Finding the Fight: A Stealth Ops Novel

by Sahin, Brittney

  Tight in his arms, she could feel him come a moment later. She closed her eyes and waited for her breathing to calm down.

  “That was incredible,” she said once she finally stood to allow him to discard his condom.

  What she’d give to be skin-to-skin with him, though.

  At the sound of the flush from the other room, followed by the shower water turning on, she padded into the en suite.

  She froze, staring at his perfectly sculpted body—like someone from the Renaissance, and since he was half-Italian it was fitting. He managed to rob her of every last breath.

  Seeing him in all his naked glory in her bathroom every day was something she could get used to.

  “Shower?”

  “Your shower is big enough for an orgy.” He propped a hand on the glass wall, and his brown eyes greedily took in the sight of her.

  How had they held off for so long? Why hadn’t they done this sooner?

  A million different reasons popped into her head, but when she stepped into his embrace inside the shower a moment later, and he pinned her to the wall, she forgot every last one of them.

  * * *

  “Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t—” Her body was on the verge of convulsing. “Don’t . . . fucking . . . stop.” She pressed her fingertips to his head as he went down on her.

  Her legs were going to wilt like flower stems in a storm, and he’d have to carry her to the office. That’d be some shock and awe for the team.

  “Mm. I love when you talk dirty to me.” He shifted to rest alongside her. “Some of the things you said to me.”

  Yeah, she’d never been a saint. But with Asher, it’d felt right. Everything with him was utterly perfect.

  Except for the fact they worked together.

  And he was one of Luke’s best friends.

  And he was also one of her best friends.

  She caught him stroking his cock. The man was a machine. But was she surprised? Back at the base six years ago they’d gone crazy, too.

  Tonight had been different, though. There was a friendship and trust between them that hadn’t existed six years ago.

  “There’s something I didn’t tell you last night,” she said a beat later, and it had him releasing his hold of his shaft and turning on his side to better view her.

  “What is it?”

  “I, uh, saw Sarah and Angelo at the club. They left right before you and the team showed up.”

  He shifted to his back and peered skyward.

  “She told me about your dad and Valentine’s Day.”

  He gripped the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “You didn’t know?”

  “I never looked too deep into the details. I didn’t think it was my place.” She reached for the crumpled comforter at the bottom of the bed and pulled it up, feeling the need for a shield.

  “If only I’d had an upstanding military dad like you and Luke.” He sat upright and pulled one knee to his chest, and she sat up with him but kept the bedding clutched to her body.

  She didn’t know what to say, so she waited. Her heart rate climbing as she wondered if she should never have mentioned his dad.

  “Times got tough for my parents when we were kids. The family restaurant was on the brink of closing. And next thing we knew, my dad was acting like Santa Claus every day. Tripping in piles of money.”

  “What changed?” she softly asked.

  He took a sobering breath. “Angelo’s dad offered my old man some side gigs to make money.”

  “Angelo wasn’t mob, though. The crew he ran was—”

  “Angelo was an angel compared to the circles our dads ran in.” He raked a hand over the top of his head.

  “How’d a side gig turn into murder?” Maybe she should’ve read the details of the case so Asher wouldn’t have had to explain.

  He inhaled through his nose and released the breath through barely parted lips. “Feds had an inside man on some job my dad and Angelo’s father took; and the next thing we knew, they were getting pinched on Valentine’s Day. My dad murdered the undercover officer. Angelo’s dad went along for the ride by accessory. He claims it was an accident, but . . .”

  “I’m sorry.” She hooked her arm around his and rested her head against his shoulder.

  “My mom married Dad’s lawyer. Crazy, right?” He faked a laugh. “He wasn’t anything like Pops. Did a few tours in the military when he was younger.” He shifted out of her reach and maneuvered off the bed to stand. “He used his connections to help get me out of jail for that bogus assault charge, but only if I promised to serve. I owe him for getting me out of that life.” He looked her straight in the eyes. “But now Sarah’s being roped into that scene, and it’s hard for me to believe Angelo is walking some righteous path.”

  She allowed his admission to stretch between them.

  Asher was opening up, doing something she wasn’t capable of doing. And she felt a touch of jealousy at his ability to do it.

  Why couldn’t she do the same? Share her feelings.

  He lifted his hand and eyed the sleeve of tattoos, then pointed to the Spartan figures holding swords and weapons on his forearm. The ink spiraled up and merged with his SEAL tattoo: a trident crossing over a lightning bolt with the head of a horse above them—representing his time on Black Squadron, the elite group he’d once been part of before joining their team.

  A battle between the past and present raged on his arm.

  “We got the ink after our dads were sentenced. Kind of like a promise we’d always be brothers—warriors—and not fuck up our lives like they had.” He half-smiled. “Well, not as badly, I should say.”

  She stood. “But Angelo didn’t stick to that.”

  He slowly nodded. “Fighting started as our way to deal with the upside-down world we were living in. But he took it to another level and started getting involved in other shit.”

  She took tentative steps his way. “Does fighting still help you feel in control?”

  “Maybe, but I’ve been a good boy until—”

  “Berlin,” she interrupted, her stomach dropping.

  “Don’t blame what happened to you for my need to hit someone.” He half-grinned. “But, what we did tonight is a much better alternative to release tension.”

  “Oh, is it?”

  He reached for her and braced her hips and held her eyes. “Absolutely.”

  And as much as she wanted to switch the conversation back to sex—or actually have it, again—she needed to tell him one more thing. “You should know I looked into Angelo while you were in Mexico.”

  “What?”

  A puff of air left her lips. “I made some calls.”

  “Why?” His brow creased as he crossed his arms.

  “Because I’m worried about you and—”

  “The fighting?”

  “Not just that.” Her body tensed, worried he was angry at her for possibly crossing the line. “I don’t want anything happening to you. But from what I can tell, Angelo told you the truth. He’s trying to get his life back on track.”

  He blinked a few times and smoothed a hand down his jaw. “Even if that’s true—”

  “You still don’t want him with your sister.” She forced a small smile. “Brothers.” Speaking of brothers . . .

  His arms fell to his sides. “What are we telling Luke?” he asked, reading her thoughts.

  “I need time to think about it.”

  “Yeah, sure.” A touch of frustration blew through his tone, though.

  “Asher.” She reached for his chest. “There are still reasons why you and I—”

  “Yeah, I know them.” He tapped at the side of his skull. “And that’s why I’ve been a choir boy for three years.” His hands landed on his hips now. “But guess what, I don’t give a fuck about the reasons anymore.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Asher’s jaw tensed as he chanced a look at Jessica. She hadn’t said a word to him in hours, ever since he’d basically announ
ced he wanted to be with her.

  He had known it’d be difficult to work together after that, but he hadn’t realized it’d be this fucking hard to be in the same room with her.

  “How long do you think this will take?” Luke clutched the back of her desk chair and observed her computer screen as she typed.

  “It’ll be quicker without you breathing down my neck.” She glanced at him from over her shoulder, and he surrendered his palms and stepped back.

  Asher’s gaze shifted to the team scattered throughout the room working, and then he returned his focus to his own screen, trying to force his thoughts off of last night and to the mission.

  “I wish you had access to the decryption program you wrote for the CIA. It’d make this a lot easier,” Luke grumbled.

  “You want to call and ask them for it?” she asked, sarcasm drenching her words. “The code I wrote was specific for Yasser Hadeed, but I remember it.”

  Asher glanced at her again to catch a slight smile gathering on her lips as she redirected her focus to her screen.

  “This call has to be from Samir. Burner phone traced to Madagascar three weeks before Berlin,” Knox said. “No way was Samir actually there, but he damned sure made it look like that. Decent tech skills.”

  “You really think five guys who used to report to his uncle would up and commit to Samir, a twenty-year-old?” Liam chimed in, his brows raised.

  Asher thought back to Samir. To the kid who’d had his life torn apart by war. “It’s possible he killed Ara to prove he has what it takes to lead.”

  “Well, it looks like the men bought in. It can’t be a coincidence these Detroit guys started viewing the help wanted section of the New York Times a few times a day after Berlin,” Liam said.

  “I hate being an outsider on an op. Not knowing all the details makes my skin itch.” Knox leaned back in his chair at the table and stretched his arms out in front of him.

  “Same,” Asher said under his breath. Especially when it all related to Jessica.

  At least Wyatt had managed to clone a phone belonging to one of the guys in Detroit, so they could hopefully stay on top of this case since they couldn’t get any more intel from the Feds without raising red flags.

  “Let’s just hope Samir’s using the same code his uncle did.” Luke circled the desk and edged closer to the rest of the team. “Now that we’ve identified which help wanted ads he wrote, we just—”

  “Need to decrypt them.” Jessica’s words buzzed through the room, but she kept her eyes locked on her screen.

  Luke pivoted to Owen. “Where are you on tracking the name associated with the help wanted ads?”

  “Samir obviously set up a bogus name and account for the ad, and the IP address he used has been rerouted a million times,” Owen answered. “Where the hell did Samir learn to do all of this?”

  Asher stood from the table and brushed his hands down his face, wishing he could do more. Cyber wasn’t his area of expertise.

  “He had to learn this shit from somewhere,” Owen said. “And he’d need to have picked it up fast, given that we’re looking at a narrow window of time between when his brother died and when he turned into a terrorist.”

  “Unless he’s always been like this,” Knox pointed out.

  “No.” Jessica wet her lips and took a breath. “If only he would’ve left Syria with Ara.”

  “He knew you took her and the others out of there, right?” Knox asked.

  “Yeah, because I made him the same offer.” She blinked a few times. “But Samir’s older brother and mom didn’t want to leave, and he wouldn’t go without them.”

  “Too bad,” Knox said glibly.

  Asher couldn’t take his eyes off Jessica. She was too close to this case. Her lips were downturned, her breathing slow and controlled, but he could tell she was working harder than normal to keep it together. And sex last night probably hadn’t helped her mood or focus.

  “I think I’m done,” she whispered a few seconds later. “It’s not too complex. A polyalphabetic substitution cipher.”

  She zeroed in on her screen, tapped at a few keys, and then rolled back from her desk and eyed her computer, her gaze narrowed and focused.

  Luke went behind her to monitor the progress as her algorithm worked to identify the pattern of letters that would decrypt Samir’s messages in the New York Times.

  When she lifted her eyes to Asher a moment later, he’d swear the air in the room shifted between them. So much so, he wondered if everyone could feel it.

  “There.” Luke leaned in and pressed his finger to the screen. “Good work, sis.” He braced a hand over her shoulder.

  “You think the Feds already know about these ciphertexts?” Asher asked.

  “If they’re working with the CIA, they’d have access to Jessica’s decryption program, but I’ll reach out to someone I trust and make sure they’re clued in,” Luke said.

  “Looks like these are just meeting spots and times. Nothing that would help us,” Jessica sputtered, a tinge of annoyance in her tone.

  “Which means someone has to be providing the men in Detroit with information when they convene,” Luke said. “Must be a burner phone because Echo hasn’t seen anyone else come and go.”

  “We’ll try and access the mic in their phones the next time they meet,” Luke said. “But if they’re smart, they’ll turn their phones off.”

  Jessica was quiet for a few moments, and Asher knew what she was thinking. “If Samir’s smart enough to pull all of this off, isn’t he smart enough to know the first thing the FBI would do is track his uncle’s former associates?” She pressed her hands on her desk alongside the computer and glanced around at her teammates, her attention landing last on Asher.

  “He didn’t anticipate us showing up in Berlin. Or that you’d survive to tell anyone about him,” Luke reminded her.

  When she stood and crossed her arms, Luke inched a few steps away from her. Her eyes remained connected with Asher’s as if she were drawing energy, or maybe comfort, from his stare.

  His arms hung heavy at his sides, his mind completely absorbed by her blue irises. “Jessica’s right.” He released a hard breath. “Samir reached out to the Detroit cell before Berlin, but he started sending the encoded messages after. He may have planned on working with them, but now he’s using them as a diversion instead.”

  “We can’t be certain of that.” Luke eyed Asher. “We’re making a lot of assumptions about some twenty-year-old’s capabilities and thought processes.”

  “I’d rather overestimate him than underestimate him,” Asher said, a firm grit to his tone. “It’s possible he changed his plans after what happened in Berlin. Both the Feds and our men could waste time looking into Detroit if Samir decided to switch gears.”

  “But that would mean we have no idea where to look now,” Luke said.

  Jessica glanced over at her brother. “We’re not saying to pull Echo back; let’s just keep an open mind.”

  “We really need this lead with the assassin,” Liam said grimly.

  “We’re running out of time, too,” Knox commented. “My dad will be in Austria in two days.”

  “Maybe Egon’s waiting until the last minute?” Liam asked. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  “It’s possible.” Luke surveyed Bravo Team.

  Mixing emotions with operations never ended well.

  It was reason number one he knew Jessica was worried about being with him. But she worked with Luke, and since he’d decided that morning he wouldn’t give up on her without a fight, he’d play that card if he had to.

  “Let’s regroup in a few hours. I need time to think and reassess all of the intel.” Luke knocked on the desk two times. “I want something new when we get back together.”

  The guy’s nodded and fanned out of the room.

  Liam glimpsed Asher from over the shoulder as they walked down the hall. “You good?”

  Asher caught sight of Jessica disappearing into her o
ffice, and then he tipped his chin toward Liam’s room, motioning to talk in private.

  “I’m fine,” he said once they were behind closed doors, and he fought the curl of tension wrapping tight around his spine.

  “What happened with you and Jessica after the club? You took her home, and then what?” Liam dropped into a swivel chair.

  “Why is it any of your damn business?” Asher drew an uncomfortable breath and let it out. “We have more pressing shit to worry about right now, don’t we?”

  Liam leaned back in the chair and cocked his head to the side. “It matters if there’s something going on that’s getting in the way of your focus.”

  Hadn’t he given the same lecture to Owen last fall? And now, here his buddy was, doing the same damn thing for him.

  “What happened with you and Emily last night?” Asher hoped to deflect.

  Liam laughed. “Nothing.” He shook his head. “You think I want Jessica, Eva, and Samantha killing me?” He scratched at his trimmed blond beard. “Back to you, though. There’s still tension between you and Jessica. Hell, you can cut it with a knife. But it’s shifted. Something changed, and I’m worried—”

  “You don’t know anything about Jessica or me.” Asher tensed. “You don’t do real.”

  “Not anymore, but . . .” He pinched the bridge of his nose, a possible brush of truth nearly escaping his normally sealed lips. “Both you and Jessica are like family to me, and damn it, I’m worried that woman will break your heart.” He stabbed at the air. “And don’t give me shit about you not having one.”

  Asher almost laughed. “You’re worried about me?” Maybe he was right to, though.

  “I—” Liam tipped his chin toward the door, and Asher turned to see Jessica through the window about to enter. “We’ll talk about this later.”

  Jessica opened the door, and her eyes darted between Liam and Asher. “We got a hit on the message board.”

  Liam jumped to his feet. “Egon?”

  “Yeah, we’re pretty sure it’s him,” she said as her eyes connected with Asher’s, and a red streak crawled up the column of her throat. “It looks like we’re going to Vienna.”