Stealth Ops Series Box Set

by Brittney Sahin

  He’d never be able to leave her side if he looked into her brown eyes even one more time.

  Once the door was shut, he paused in the hall, pressed his fists to her door, and bowed his head, trying to gather his control before entering their makeshift TOC.

  He wasn’t used to dealing with so many emotions, and it was throwing him off. He needed to get his shit together, or he’d be of no use to his team.

  An agonizing minute later, he entered the room where everyone was assembled.

  Knox, Luke, and Jess were behind computers, and Liam and Asher were standing in front of a whiteboard at the back of the room near a conference table.

  “Did we ID where he got the shot off yet?” Owen closed the door behind him and approached Jess.

  Asher touched a set of blueprints taped to the whiteboard. “Feds are crawling all over Emily’s place now, but it looks like he was on the roof of the home behind hers.”

  “This whole situation is becoming harder to keep out of the public eye. The press is going to figure out something is up, and soon,” Knox said.

  “Well, the shooter took Blane out for a reason,” Liam noted. “He wouldn’t suddenly take the risk to possibly expose everything unless Blane knew something.”

  “The shooter was either planning on taking Blane out anyway, or he followed you to Emily’s. We’ve been scouring every bit of security footage we could access to see if we could catch him tailing you,” Knox said. “We think we got a hit outside our hotel late last night.” He approached Owen and handed him a photo. “This him?”

  Owen narrowed his eyes. “I think so.” He turned to Jess. “Can we upload this image to your program?” His heart began to race, hopeful for a lead.

  “Already done. If he’s connected, we should know within an hour or so,” she said before returning her focus to her screen.

  “Thank God.” Owen handed Knox the photo.

  “How’s Samantha holding up?” Asher faced him, squaring his stance and folding his arms.

  “Crazy morning for her, but I think she’s solid.” Somehow, the woman was a damn rock. Of course, he had to remember she’d learned to be that way; and she didn’t necessarily want to constantly be tough. When she’d cried against his chest Saturday night, he was pretty sure her slip of emotions had taken even her by surprise.

  Owen’s hands settled on his hips as a sudden idea breezed through his mind. “We need Sam’s help. We need to bring her in.”

  “You do know the definition of covert, right?” Asher whirled his finger in the air, simulating helo blades. “The thing we’re supposed to be?”

  Jess looked over at them, then to Luke. “Owen might be right.”

  “She and her father are the masterminds behind the Ukrainian–Russian deal. They know the timeline, and now that we know her blackmail threat is related to the mission ten years ago, we might be able to put all the pieces together with her help.”

  “We’d be breaking protocol.” Asher peered at Luke as if expecting him to reject the idea.

  Luke stood from his desk, and the way he was looking at Owen told him one thing: Luke knew the truth. He knew Owen had already divulged classified intel to Sam because Luke himself had broken the rules not too long ago for Eva, the woman who now carried his child.

  “Can we have a minute?” Luke pointed to the door.

  Once they were in the hall, Owen waited for the door to close before making eye contact with his boss. Of course, Luke and Jess never made him feel like they were anything less than equals.

  Luke wrapped a hand around the nape of his neck and eyed him. Words weren’t needed; the grimace on his face revealed his discomfort.

  Yeah, him, too.

  Luke glanced down the hall in the direction of Sam’s room. “Are you sure you want to stay on and work this op?”

  Owen’s eyes widened. “Where the hell is that coming from?”

  “We haven’t had two seconds to talk since all this shit has gone down, and I’m worried about you.”

  Owen’s booted feet inched back a step. “I didn’t see you backing down when Eva was in danger.”

  “That was different,” he grumbled, “and I’m not asking you to back down. I’m thinking of having you stick by Sam’s side while we take care of the situation.”

  He folded his arms. “Yeah? And if POTUS makes her go to Russia?”

  “We won’t be sending her overseas, not when someone got a shot off so close to her head this morning.”

  “Tell that to the president,” Owen seethed, his anger toward authority projecting onto Luke right now. He released a pent-up breath, trying to calm down. “Listen, I know I haven’t been at the top of my game, but I have to be part of this op.”

  Luke’s Adam’s apple moved in his throat. “I know I promised you if the time ever came to find who was responsible for Jason’s death, I’d fight for you to be on the team, and I did.” His hand patted his own chest. “But now, well, I’m just wondering if that’s the best idea.”

  “Asher told you about Blane, didn’t he?” Luke had to be concerned that Owen might snap again.

  His brows furrowed. “What about Blane?”

  So, Asher didn’t talk. He owed him a case of beer when this was over. “I want to get our men back,” he said instead.

  “Are you sure that’s all?” He shot him a pointed look. “Because I know if I were you, I’d be thinking about going after Teteruk. And I know this because I still think about what I’ll do when I find the men who killed Marcus.” A dark stain slowly rose up his neck and into his face. “I won’t hesitate to take them out.”

  “What are you saying?” Owen’s brows pinched tight.

  “I’m saying if something were to happen to Teteruk during this op,” he found his eyes, “Command won’t know it was you.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I thought we don’t murder people. I thought we were supposed to let the law decide justice.”

  “In this case, fuck the law.” Luke clenched his jaw. “That asshole killed our men. Killed your brother.” He released a heavy breath.

  Owen nodded, not sure what else to say. He didn’t want to verbally admit that he had every intention of committing murder.

  “What I’m trying to say is that, whether you’re on this op or not, I’ll make sure you get justice. So, if you’d feel better hanging back with Sam when we’re commissioned to go wherever the hell POTUS needs us, I’d understand.” He shrugged. “If anyone could understand, it’d be me. You saw how crazy I got when Eva was in trouble.”

  “But you were also falling in love with her.”

  “What do you think is happening to you?”

  He sounded like Asher now. What was with his team? “We just met, and she’s Brad’s . . .” He couldn’t say it out loud. He didn’t want to hear the truth right now. “The timing is shit, and she’s off-limits, anyway.”

  Luke shook his head. “The timing is always shit, and no one is ever off-limits.”

  “Even your sister?” Somehow, a near-smile almost snuck up on him.

  “Except her.” Luke lifted his hands and wrapped one over Owen’s shoulder. “Brad would want her to be happy. You know you’d feel the same if you were in his position.” He patted his shoulder once.

  He shook his head. “I’m in. I have to be.”

  He nodded. “Fine. Figured. Go get her, then. I’ll deal with the consequences of that decision later.”

  Luke returned to the room without another word, and Owen dragged his palms down his face, thinking about Sam. From the dimple in her cheek when she smiled, to the sexy huskiness in her voice, to her gorgeous brown eyes that darkened whenever she gathered her lower lip between her teeth and stared at him . . . she was all he wanted to think about.

  He didn’t want to think about the three Americans possibly being tortured; he didn’t want to think about war with fucking Russia.

  Or even vengeance for Jason and Brad.

  He shook his head.

  No, all he wanted to
do was think about her. Samantha Rose McCarthy.

  And what the hell did that mean?

  Chapter Sixteen

  “You startled me.” Sam clenched the towel tight in front of her chest as she eyed Owen standing before her in his black tee, jeans, and boots—with laces loose—looking every bit as intimidating as he probably should’ve been.

  “Sorry. I knocked, but you didn’t answer. I forgot there was a bathroom in here.” He tilted his head, his eyes skating down her still wet body.

  She hadn’t even had time to dry off; she’d just stepped out of the shower and whipped the towel around her at the sound of his voice. “It’s fine. Better you than someone else, I suppose.” Her fingers darted through her wet locks, and she bit into her lip when his eyes connected with hers.

  He visibly swallowed and lightly shook his head. “Yeah, I’d prefer the guys not see you like this.”

  “Um, so, how’s everything going?” she softly asked a moment later. “You weren’t gone long.”

  He scratched at his cheek. “We’re sort of stuck.”

  His words pelted her skin and put her even further on edge. “Oh,” she whispered. “Something I can do?”

  “Actually, yes. We’re thinking it’s time we bring you in.”

  “You want my help?” She blinked, trying to corral her thoughts.

  “We’re short on time, and you might be able to better assist since you’re—”

  “At the center of it all?” Her gaze shifted to the towel. “I, uh, should get dressed, then.”

  “Need me to wait in the hall?”

  She kept the towel around her as she went to the bed and grabbed some clean clothes. “No, I’ll be out in a second.”

  Once inside the bathroom, her palms went to the counter, and the towel fell to her feet. She had to mentally prepare herself before going back into the room.

  A man had died that morning. An asshole, at best, but still—he was dead because of her.

  More people could die. Good people.

  What if she couldn’t do anything to save them?

  A few deep breaths did nothing to calm her nerves, but she slipped on her skinny jeans and a white V-neck anyway before heading out to face Owen.

  He was on the bed with his elbows resting on his thighs. When he spotted her, he shifted upright and pressed his palms to his legs.

  Her eyes remained steadily on the veins of his forearms. Those same veins had been so pronounced that morning when his hands had been wrapped around Blane’s throat.

  She took a tentative step his way, her bare feet cold against the concrete floor.

  “Can you sit?” He shifted her overnight bag to the floor and scooted over to give her room. And when she sat, he pivoted to face her and rested his hand atop her thigh.

  Her breath hitched when he looked up to meet her eyes.

  “There’s something I have to tell you before we meet up with the team.”

  Yeah, that’s never good to hear. Based on the grim look on his face, he was about to level her with something.

  “Your dad knows about what’s going on,” he said quickly. “He knows because he helped form the deal between the U.S. and Teteruk ten years ago.”

  She couldn’t possibly have heard him right. Then, the hard blow of a memory blanketed her mind.

  Your dad said yes, Brad had told her. I asked him for your hand, and he said yes. So, what do you think? You want to marry a Navy man? That’d been Brad’s proposal, and then, after he’d died, her father had seemed to distance himself from her. She often wondered if he somehow had felt guilty for giving his permission, only for Brad to die three weeks later. But now . . . could there have been another reason for his guilt?

  “Sam?” Owen squeezed her hand, pulling her back to the present.

  She blinked a few times, bringing him into focus. “You’re telling me my dad knew the truth about the operation ten years ago? He knew how Brad died?”

  Memories continued to whirl around her mind like a dust storm, making it hard to see.

  Every time her father had warned her to stop looking into the mission, he’d already known the truth.

  But no. It couldn’t be possible. Could it?

  She retracted her hand from his and slowly rose, needing space to think, to get her thoughts together.

  “Aside from Brad, Jason, and the other three members of the team, no one outside of a select group of people knew about the deal presented to Teteruk.” He grimaced. “Hell, even Brad and Jason’s commanding officer wasn’t made aware of the deal. Shaw, Robins, and the CIA officer, Canton, had to swear an oath that they’d never share the details of the op. And that paperwork they signed—your father typed it up.”

  Unwelcome tears welled in her eyes.

  Betrayal sliced through her, and it hurt too damn much.

  “How long have you known?” she asked with a broken voice. She cupped her mouth, trying to stop the quiver in her lip.

  He stood, and a deep breath left his lungs. “The president told me yesterday. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I didn’t know how to do it. It was part of why I was so angry yesterday.”

  Our angry sex. Her lids dropped closed. “You had sex with me knowing this?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She could hear the apology, even in his tone. But could she be mad at him after what she’d done in Mexico?

  A tear managed to break through her defenses; she swiped it away. “Is that why they chose me to send the photo to? Not because Brad was my fiancé, but because of my father?”

  “I think so.”

  A heaviness filled her chest like lead pouring inside of her, filling her lungs. The realization suddenly hit her. “This isn’t just about my proposal, is it?”

  Six desks occupied the room, three facing three with a walkway between them. A laptop inside a heavy-duty case was positioned on each desk among a bunch of other unfamiliar devices and cables. This was the closest she’d ever come to an operation, and it had a rush of unease settling in the pit of her stomach.

  Everyone in the room had been busy working when they’d entered as if they were preparing for war—and maybe they were. But once their gazes landed on Sam, fingers lifted from keyboards and bodies tensed.

  She was an outsider, and they were a team of elite operatives used to working in secret, she reminded herself. She couldn’t let the sudden scrutiny of their watchful eyes upset her.

  Owen was bringing her in for a reason, and if she could help, she’d do her best.

  “You guys can relax.” Owen stepped forward, looking to the left side of the room before shifting his gaze to the right. “She doesn’t bite.”

  His words almost induced a slight twitch of her lips. She came up alongside him and attempted to stand her ground—a formidable task with all eyes pinned on her.

  “Does she know who we are?” Asher slowly rose and pressed his fists on the desk in front of him.

  “Yes, but you have my word I won’t tell anyone anything, not even my father.” Especially not him.

  Owen and his teammates were still SEALs, and they put their lives on the line, but, if something ever happened to them, no one would know what they’d done or what sacrifices they had made.

  Sam continued to survey the room, hoping to find acceptance in their eyes. She hadn’t realized her heart was racing until it stilled at Owen’s touch. His fingers laced with hers. Hands united.

  He was making a statement to his team.

  She tried to ignore the tight band of pressure gathering in her chest at the pull of emotion from such a simple touch.

  “Well, do you think you can help?” Knox leaned back in his swivel chair and pressed his clasped hands atop his chest.

  “I’m going to try,” she said as steadily as possible. “I get threats all of the time. And honestly, the texts to my phone—that kind of stuff isn’t that abnormal for anyone in my position.” She eyed Knox specifically, recognizing him as the son of a major political player. She assumed Knox w
as a nickname since she remembered him as Charlie. “You know what I’m talking about, right?”

  He nodded. “What’s the protocol for such threats?”

  “Usually security handles it, or we pass information over to the Feds.” The warmth of Owen’s touch continued to ground her, enabling her to block out the betrayal from her father and to focus on the issue at hand.

  “If I were going to blackmail you to get you off your proposal, I’d do something a hell of a lot more extreme,” Asher remarked.

  Liam nodded. “Hell, they could’ve sent Teteruk’s images straight to POTUS to try and get the president to force Samantha off her proposal or cancel the event in Russia.”

  Knox wagged an index finger in the air, one eye narrowed. “Or tell Samantha’s father he’d kill her if he didn’t call the whole thing off. My dad has dealt with shit like that in the past.”

  Luke glanced at his sister next to him. “The threat, the texts, the bug in her apartment—hell, Blane . . . everything was purposefully planned.”

  Jessica removed her black-rimmed glasses, and her gaze cut straight to Sam. “It was a distraction.”

  “A distraction?” Sam echoed, her brows slanting inward as she processed the thought. “Distracting us from what?”

  “What they’re really after.” Owen released his hold and pressed a hand against his forehead. “Justice.” He nearly hissed the word. “You got the photo the same day our men were taken.” He faced her. “Whoever took them wanted us looking one way instead of where it mattered.”

  “But how would they know I’d come to you?” A dull, achy throb had her rubbing her chest as Owen held her eyes.

  “Someone knew about your past. They knew the picture you got would be personal, and you’d react differently this time than you had in the past to other threats,” Owen explained. “They probably wanted you to go to the Feds, so they’d tie up their time looking into the photo and the blackmailer.”

  “Chasing false leads, like with Blane,” Asher gritted out.

  “If they didn’t really want the event canceled, why take the risk and let Sam know anything?” Liam rolled back from his computer. “How’d they know POTUS wouldn’t call everything off once he discovered the op had been compromised with Teteruk’s images out there?”