Show of Force

by Elle James

  A former marine must help a Russian spy...

  But can he trust her?

  Force Recon marine Mack Balkman would do anything for Declan’s Defenders and the boss who gave him a second chance. But aiding a rogue Russian spy pushes his loyalty to the limits. Beautiful, cunning Riley Lansing loves her adopted country—and her baby brother, who is being held for ransom. Can they work together to find the young boy before Riley’s handler learns that she has gone rogue?

  Declan’s Defenders

  He leaned close and whispered in her ear, “If someone is watching you, you need to convince them I’m not a threat.”

  She frowned up at him. “And how do you intend to do that?” she asked, matching his low tones.

  He nuzzled her neck and breathed into her ear, “They need to think I’m supposed to be with you.”

  She tipped her head back and closed her eyes, all the while keeping her voice down. “They know I don’t have any other siblings, and I’ve never known any cousins.”

  “What about a boyfriend?” Mack suggested, running his hand up beneath her hair. “Are you known to have a boyfriend or lover?”

  Butterflies erupted in Riley’s belly at the touch of his hand on the back of her neck. “No. I haven’t had time to cultivate a romance. I’ve been too busy living two lives to add another to the mix.”

  He leaned back and smiled down into her eyes. “Then let’s set the stage for anyone watching.”

  “What do you mean?” She stiffened, her insides trembling, her body warming with excitement.

  “Meet your new boyfriend.”

  Show of Force

  New York Times Bestselling Author

  Elle James

  Elle James, a New York Times bestselling author, started writing when her sister challenged her to write a romance novel. She has managed a full-time job and raised three wonderful children, and she and her husband even tried ranching exotic birds (ostriches, emus and rheas). Ask her, and she’ll tell you what it’s like to go toe-to-toe with an angry 350-pound bird! Elle loves to hear from fans at ellejames@earthlink.net or ellejames.com.

  Books by Elle James

  Harlequin Intrigue

  Declan’s Defenders

  Marine Force Recon

  Show of Force

  Mission: Six

  One Intrepid SEAL

  Two Dauntless Hearts

  Three Courageous Words

  Four Relentless Days

  Five Ways to Surrender

  Six Minutes to Midnight

  Ballistic Cowboys

  Hot Combat

  Hot Target

  Hot Zone

  Hot Velocity

  SEAL of My Own

  Navy SEAL Survival

  Navy SEAL Captive

  Navy SEAL to Die For

  Navy SEAL Six Pack

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.

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  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Mack Balkman—Former Force Recon marine, assistant team leader, Declan’s right-hand man. Grew up on a farm and knows hard work won’t kill you. Guns will.

  Riley Lansing—Engineer on special projects at Quest Aerospace Alliance. Born in the US to Russian parents, she was secretly trained as a Russian sleeper agent.

  Declan O’Neill—Highly trained Force Recon marine who made a decision that cost him his career in the Marine Corps. After being dishonorably discharged from the military, he’s forging his own path with the help of a wealthy benefactor.

  Charlotte “Charlie” Halverson—Rich widow of a highly prominent billionaire philanthropist. Leading the fight for right by funding Declan’s Defenders.

  Frank “Mustang” Ford—Former Force Recon marine, point man. First into dangerous situations, making him the eyes and ears of the team.

  Augustus “Gus” Walsh—Former Force Recon marine radio operator, good with weapons, electronics and technical equipment.

  Cole McCastlain—Former Force Recon marine assistant radio operator. Good with computers.

  Jack Snow—Former Force Recon marine slack man, youngest on the team, takes all the heavy stuff. Not afraid of hard, physical work.

  Margaret Weems—Riley’s old friend and her brother’s nanny.

  Bryan Young—Head of Riley’s department at Quest Aerospace Alliance.

  Steve Pruett—Project engineer on special projects. Riley’s private coworker.

  Tracy Gibson—Secretary to Riley’s former supervisor.

  Brigett Paulson—Member of the janitorial service at Quest Aerospace Alliance.

  This book is dedicated to my mother, who has always been there for me, my sister and brothers. When my father was deployed to other parts of the world, she was the one who held down the fort at home. She’s beautiful, talented and determined. She encouraged us to follow our own paths, wherever they might lead.

  I love you, Mom!

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Smokies Special Agent by Lena Diaz

  Chapter One

  Just after four o’clock in the afternoon, Riley Lansing slipped in through the back entrance of the Marriott Marquis hotel in downtown Washington, DC. She wore a stolen employee badge and one of the dresses required of the female waitstaff. With her dark hair tucked beneath a blond wig, she passed for the woman in the fuzzy image sufficiently enough to make it past the security guard.

  She carried a large purse and smacked chewing gum. When the guard asked to search her bag, she made certain her less-than-sexy panties and feminine products were on top to discourage him from digging deeper and discovering her second costume of the night.

  Her trick worked. The guard waved her past the checkpoint.

  Riley sailed through and entered the employee locker room. Instead of ditching her bag, she carried it through to the door on the far side that led deeper into the hotel’s service area.

  Riley’s heart pounded against her ears, and her pulse thundered through her veins. She’d trained most of her young life for this. Her mother and father had drilled her daily on her responsibilities and loyalties. But Riley had hoped and prayed she would be forgotten, shuffled into the far regions of some paper file that had never been converted to digital data.

  All the years she’d immersed herself in the American life her parents had created for her, with their own false identities and her legitimate birth certificate, were about to be blown wide open. No one she’d come into contact with over her lifetime knew her as anyone but Riley Lansing, daughter of Linda and Robert Lansing. Her parents spoke perfect American English and appeared to be the finest of upstanding citizens of the good old US of A.

  Only they weren’t. She wasn’t. Her life had been one big lie, leading up to what she’d been tasked to do that evening.

  Why now? Why, after the deaths of her father and mother in an auto accident five years earlier, had they come back to call her to service? Riley had hoped her parents’ handler h
ad forgotten their daughter and her little brother even existed.

  She’d pushed her secret life to the back of her consciousness for so long, she almost believed it was all a weird dream made up from a child’s wild imagination.

  Until that morning, when she’d received the electronically distorted message from an anonymous voice initiating her call to action. “Baryshnikov has risen.”

  At first, she hadn’t recognized the code words. When they sank in from the years her father had repeated them, a chill raised the hairs on the back of her neck and rippled down the length of her spine.

  “You will find instructions at the luggage storage area at the Metro in downtown DC.” The voice left an address and locker number. “And to guarantee your compliance, we have a little insurance policy.”

  A moment later, little Toby’s voice came through the receiver. “Riley?” he said, the one word catching on a sob. “I’m scared.”

  “Oh, Toby. Sweetheart,” she said. “It’s okay. I’m coming for you. I’ll find you and bring you home.”

  Her little brother sobbed once more, jerking at Riley’s heartstrings.

  “Toby?” Riley cried out.

  “Do the job tonight and the boy will be returned to his home,” the voice said. “Fail and you will never see him again.”

  Clutching the large bag close to her side, she hurried through the maze of corridors she’d traversed the day before, familiarizing herself with the layout of the kitchen, the staff elevators and the ballroom where the evening’s event would take place. She’d even identified an electronics closet where she could hide until the event began, ensuring she’d be past the security guards who would be posted at every entrance and exit checking identification against invitation lists.

  The second worst part of her plan was the two hours she’d have to wait until she could initiate the operation.

  The absolute worst part of her plan was the crux of the operation and what she had to accomplish to satisfy her handler and get her little brother back alive.

  To succeed at her mission, she had to kill someone she not only knew but admired.

  Her hand shook as she slipped a file into the keyhole and jimmied the lock on the door to the electronics closet. It clicked, and she pulled the door open. She’d played with locks from an early age and could open just about anything requiring a key. This skill had come in handy during college when she entered her dorm past curfew and the doors were locked.

  Once inside the electronics room, she closed the door and locked it from the inside to keep anyone from randomly walking in looking for something or someone.

  For the next two and a half hours, she waited. The security detail would have swept the ballroom and surrounding cubbies, restrooms, hallways and anterooms. Guards would have been positioned at all corners, equipped with radio communications devices and handguns.

  Her target would have no fewer than four bodyguards in attendance. Having had an attempt made on her life recently, she wouldn’t take any chances. Not even at a gala with the prime purpose of raising money for sick children.

  During the two hours Riley waited, she went through her proposed actions in her mind, the steps she would take and how she would maneuver her victim out of the ballroom and into one of the anterooms or the ladies’ restroom. Once there, Riley would aim her small handgun at the woman and force her to take a small pill. She slipped her hand into the voluminous purse and curled her fingers around the HK .40 caliber handgun that fit snugly in her grip. She knew how to fire it. Knew where to hit her target to ensure a quick and painless death. But she wouldn’t fire the handgun unless absolutely necessary. The poison would do the trick much more quietly. All she had to do was make her take it, and Toby would be set free.

  She couldn’t think about the woman she’d been sent to eliminate. Toby was only six years old. He deserved a chance to live. If it meant taking the life of an older woman who’d had her chance at living, so be it. Riley couldn’t let anything happen to her only living relative remaining on earth. As far as she knew, Toby didn’t know what her parents and she herself had been recruited to do.

  No one knew, except Riley and her handler. And Riley had no clue who her handler was. When her parents died, she’d taken on guardianship of her little brother. She should have known hiding him in the Virginia countryside with a paid nanny wouldn’t be enough to keep him safe. When her parents had passed away, she should have moved as far away from DC as she could get. At least then the Russians wouldn’t have been able to find Toby and use him as collateral to collect on their investment.

  As the time neared, her breathing became more erratic and her pulse raced. In less than an hour, she’d have to put her skills as an assassin to use on an innocent woman who had gone out of her way, spent her money and engaged her employees to help Riley. She’d betray the woman’s trust and the trust of her new assistant, Riley’s best friend and roommate, Grace Lawrence.

  Riley swallowed hard on the bile rising up her throat. She’d never asked for this assignment. She’d spent her life training with the misguided belief she’d never have to use that training. If asked to do something she didn’t like, she’d always imagined herself refusing.

  Until they’d kidnapped Toby. Toby was her Achilles’ heel. She’d do anything for her little brother.

  Even kill?

  The alarm on her watch vibrated, letting her know the time had come. She had to get ready and make an appearance at the gala. Her target would recognize her and welcome her with open arms. She might even wonder how Riley could have afforded the plate price to get in. Riley had a lame excuse to cover long enough to get her quarry alone. She’d take her someplace where she could be assured they wouldn’t be followed by the woman’s bodyguards. There, she would do what she’d come to do.

  Riley removed the blond wig, slipped the maid’s dress over her head, released the clasps on her bra and slid the straps down her arms. Naked but for a pair of silky black panties, she wrapped a small amount of C-4 explosive to her inner calf with an Ace bandage and tucked the detonator affixed to a hair clip into her long dark hair, pulling it back behind her right ear and letting the rest of her hair fall over her left shoulder. The C-4 and detonator were courtesy of her handler, from among the items she’d found in the locker he’d sent her to in the train station.

  Once she had her diversion devices secured, she dug a long black dress out of the bottom lining of her purse and shook out the wrinkles. She’d purchased the dress while shopping with her friend, intending to wear it to a less expensive charity event later that summer.

  She almost laughed at the thought. That was when she was still an innocent American female who had nothing more to worry about than riding the Metro to and from her work as an aerospace engineer. The irony of it all was that she’d been recruited by the FBI to help them capture someone stealing government secrets from the corporation where she worked.

  They’d come close but hadn’t nailed the bastard. What was so ironic was that thief might have been working for the Russians. Just like she was.

  She pulled the dress over her head, settling the halter strap around her neck and letting the silky gown slide down her torso and over her hips. Riley and her roommate had both loved the dress. Though it had been a little pricey for her budget, she’d purchased the garment, excited to wear it to a ritzy DC function.

  She no longer was the child easily molded and trained by her parents. That little girl had grown into a woman with a mind of her own. All the propaganda her parents had used to shape her beliefs had been replaced by the readings and research of an inquisitive mind. She had no desire to work as a spy or an assassin for a country for which she felt no affiliation. She was an American, despite her parents’ home of birth. She wanted the American dream, the American lifestyle, and the right to pursue happiness and love. And she’d hoped to accomplish some of that pursuit in the dress she’d purchased
with her roommate.

  Riley tucked the murder weapon into the bra of her dress. A tiny plastic bag containing one small pill that only had to touch the victim’s tongue to do the job. The pill would dissolve before anyone could do anything to help her, and the damage would be done. She’d die within just two minutes, her body hemorrhaging internally.

  Pulling a small mirror from her purse, she examined her makeup and the dress in an entirely different light from that of the happy young professional engineer she’d been when she purchased the item. In that dress, her life would change forever.

  To Riley, the dress would always be what she’d worn when she committed murder.

  * * *

  “ARE WE HERE?” Charlotte Halverson asked as the limousine pulled up to the curb outside the Marriott Marquis hotel in downtown Washington, DC.

  Mack Balkman had the lead on the bodyguard detail for his new boss. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And don’t call me ma’am,” the woman said. “It’s Charlie.”

  “Yes, ma’am—Charlie.” Mack choked on calling his new boss by her first name. His years on active duty made him want to address his boss with the utmost respect. And if that wasn’t bad enough, his parents had insisted he address women older than him by their surnames. Calling Mrs. Halverson by her first name didn’t sit right in his books. But she was the boss, and if she wanted him to call her Pookie while standing on his head, he’d do it. She’d given him a job when most others wouldn’t have given him the time of day.

  “Are my men in place?” Charlie asked.

  “They are. We’ve got you covered.” He touched his headset. “All clear?”

  Mustang, their point man who’d arrived on a motorcycle ahead of them, replied, “Ready as we can be. This place is crawling with people here to see the red-carpet show.”

  Augustus “Gus” Walsh climbed out of the passenger seat of the limousine and opened the back door.

  When Charlie started to slide across the seat, Mack touched her arm. “Normally, I’d say ladies first, but not tonight.”

 
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