SWNOVELS Fire and Ice: Chapter 1
Maia Pierce exited her Audi convertible in the underground parking garage of the Trident building. Located in the central business district of New Park City, Virginia, the building housed the corporate offices of McCord Defense Industries (MDI) on its eighteenth floor. MDI was the premiere advanced weapons contractor for the Department of Defense.
Protective custody detail was the most boring job in her opinion and one she barely tolerated. But after her last assignment, Viktor felt she needed a break… and a lesson.
Damn Viktor. What happened wasn’t entirely her fault. Wait, yes, it was entirely her fault—her screw-up. But she’d be damned before she left those young girls behind. The RULES were to remain detached, get the mission done and get out. Hopefully, the Russians had not uncovered her identity. This was the reason why Viktor had recalled her from AGS foreign missions, so she could fly under the radar that blanketed the planet like a spider’s web.
Artemis Guardian Services (AGS) or simply “The Guardians” as they were known by most of their clients specialized in small team surgical incursions: K and R (kidnap and ransom), DoD covert ops that were too politically high-risk, Corporate Security Enforcement (usually involving questionable and deadly force), and recently (and seemingly with increasing frequency) protective custody detail outsourced by the US Marshals Service.
Brett McCord was the assignment. Computer hacker extraordinaire, entangled with the local tri-city drug lord Raul Vergara, McCord had become the star witness for the prosecution. The evidence was hush-hush but had something to do with access to emails, bank accounts and an encrypted list of transactions such as payoffs and names. A conviction would cause a major ripple through the East Coast drug trade taking down major players—including dirty cops within the NPPD and spreading to cities outside New Park like Washington DC. District Attorney Mike Callahan had recently been keeping AGS busy with his crusade to clean up the streets of New Park.
Mike. Maia sighed. She had not seen him in almost two years.
MDI was owned by Jack McCord, Brett’s older brother. He was an ex-Navy SEAL and now his company was one of DoD’s top small weapons suppliers/innovators. Talk about a career military. The brothers couldn’t be more different. Brett was an environmental activist and preferred using computer worms and denial-of-service attacks in making a statement against companies that had rubbed him the wrong way. Heck, his FBI rap sheet included hacking into his own brother’s company just for being a contractor for the DoD.
The elevator doors slid open on the 18th floor revealing a sleek modern reception area in all white and silver. Comfortable leather chairs were arranged in an impersonal huddle around an industrial-style coffee table. A gorgeous brunette, who would look more appropriate on the cover of Vogue than as a receptionist to a defense company, leaned past her IMac to scrutinize the newcomer.
Maia’s lips curved imperceptibly. She was used to catty appraisals. Though her beautiful red hair was pulled back and hidden in a chic bun, she was 5’7” with legs that seemed to go on forever and curves in all the right places. Her tailored cream silk suit hid well-muscled arms and thighs, the skirt skimming her toned butt like a glove. She was endowed with a delicate bone structure that flattered her unusual clear blue eyes and her lush sensual lips had come in handy in situations involving lecherous dictators.
“Maia Pierce for Brett McCord.”
The receptionist inclined her head briefly and pressed the intercom button.
“Miss Pierce is here,” a husky voice relayed over the intercom.
“Send her right in,” Jack McCord responded. He glanced at Derek Lockwood, his business partner and best friend. “She better be worth our time.”
Though Jack was no sexist, he was disturbed by this development in Brett’s protective custody. A hit had been uncovered in time that involved his brother’s former security detail. Local law enforcement was so deeply wrapped up in Vergara’s web that it had become necessary to bring in outside players. This AGS team came highly vetted by Derek Lockwood and Mike Callahan, but sending a woman to head the protective custody of a witness who could take down a violent drug kingpin brought their judgment to question. Okay, maybe he was a tad sexist.
The door to the conference room swung open and the stunning vision of Maia Pierce swept through. It took all of Jack’s discipline to keep his jaw from dropping but he couldn’t help the uncomfortable stirring that shot straight to his groin. The picture of her on the advanced dossier of the Guardians had not prepared him for this.
Jack was rich and extremely attractive and he had no shortage of beautiful women on his arm and in his bed. But he had never, in his entire life, seen a woman this exquisite.
Derek moved quickly to hug the visitor and Jack felt an odd twinge of possessive jealousy.
“Hey, gorgeous!”
“Derek.” Maia flashed a dazzling smile up to his friend before nodding to Mike Callahan with a more reserved, “Counselor.”
Jack’s brow shot up, noticing the way Mike Callahan’s face turned instantly stony and although Miss Pierce’s face revealed nothing, he knew in his gut there was a story there. Interesting.
“I gotta ask, how do you stop the bad guys? By flashing your boobs?” Brett piped in obnoxiously.
“Jesus, Brett,” Derek muttered.
“Actually, you’d be surprise how effective that play is,” Maia drawled, not flustered in the least.
Jack swallowed a chuckle as Bret visibly stilled, then his idiotic brother gave a shit-eating grin, stood up and shook hands with Maia while his eyes drifted to her ample bosom. “I guess you know I’m Brett—your assigned pain in the ass.”
“And I’m Jack McCord, welcome Miss Pierce,” Jack rose up to his full 6’3” and grasped Maia’s hand firmly. “You’ll have to excuse my brother: he’s been under a lot of stress from the recent attempts on his life.”
“No apologies. I get that all the time, although not often quite as direct.”
Facing the four men in the room, she opened her briefcase and switched to all business. “Shall we get started?”
Jack nodded his go-ahead.
“You’ve already received the dossier of my team. Six people will be guarding Castle—codename for the safe house—two outside for perimeter surveillance and four inside. There will be position rotations between the six. It shouldn’t be too hard since we only have to keep Mr. McCord safe for 60 hours and every single member on the team can stay sharp for extended time periods. Here’s the layout of the structure and the schematics of the security installed. Alarms and cameras of the interior and exterior are connected to AGS headquarters with 24-hour monitoring. There is an onsite panic room. We have our own emergency response team. Everything we do is kept below the police radar. We also have our own paramedics for the odd gunshot wound.”
“Uh…what about life-threatening injuries?” Brett interjected. “Like getting shot through the chest?”
“Since you’ll be wearing a vest, you’ll be fine—unless they aim for your head or use armor-piercing bullets. In any case, they’ll have to get through me and my men to get to you,” Maia assured confidently. “But if it is a life-threatening injury, we’ll have to take you to the hospital and unfortunately it’ll be on everyone’s radar by then. We really don’t want that.” Maia laid both palms on the table and leaned in towards Brett. “So Brett, it is very important that you do exactly as you are told. If we tell you to stay put, you stay put. If we tell you to haul ass, you … haul … ass.”
At that point, Jack understood what it meant to underestimate the female Guardian. Her beautiful blue eyes turned frosty with cold determination, managing to hold his brother’s gaze despite offering an eyeful of cleavage when she leaned forward. Jack had no doubt Miss Pierce was skilled in the use of guns and knives, but her biggest asset was psychological misdirection. An unsuspecting enemy would certainly underestimate her. Always. And before he had realized his mistake, he would have taken a bullet through his head. Maia Pierce was a beautiful stealth weapon.
“Delivery as usual?” Mike Callahan broke in.
“Yes. Under the courthouse. I’ll personally do the handover, my men will follow through to the courtroom,” Maia confirmed.
Jack frowned. Leafing through his file-copy of the playbook, he said, “You’re not hanging around for the trial?”
“No. My assignment ends when I deliver McCord to the DA. The prosecution’s protective detail will be expanded to include him. They will take him to your designated estate after the trial to lay low until everyone involved is apprehended. No use having two leads on this.”
“Some other place you need to be?”
“No.”
Jack smiled. One word answers of the evasive kind. They stared at each other for a beat; her eyes flashed challengingly into his, almost daring him to ask another question. Then she shifted her gaze back to his brother.
“Brett, we’ll need to scan your laptop for bugs and tracking devices. I’m sure Derek had already done that but I’d like to do it again. No offense, Derek.”
“None taken,” Derek replied.
“I also hope you have no cell phone on you. We have a secure SAT phone at the safe house. After the scan is done, we’re all set to go. I’ll have my men bring the transport over to the underground garage, load you up and we’ll rendezvous at Castle.”
Shifting her attention to address everyone in the room, she said, “Any questions or concerns, voice them now. After we leave here, I prefer to limit communications.”
Maia frowned at the recent report from the AGS data center. They had been at Castle for 48 hours without incident. Striding with her tablet to the kitchen where Brett and three of her men—Manning, Danner and Edmunds—were having dinner, she clicked on the communications device to the rest of her team patrolling outside. “Chavez, Lucas, you guys on?”
“Affirmative, boss.”
“Update from base. It’s confirmed that Vergara has brought in some PMCs from Eastern Europe.”
A flurry of expletives erupted around the room and on comms.
Brett quirked an eyebrow. “PMCs?”
“Private military contractor. Mercenaries.”
“How come we’re hearing of this only now? We’re screwed aren’t we?” Brett’s agitation started spiraling out of control.
Maia shook her head. How could two brothers be more different? Jack McCord exuded badass calm, contained in that delicious lean compacted-muscular physique of his, while Brett—though equally handsome—was lanky and rife with nervous energy.
“Oh ye of little faith,” Maia muttered. “Brett, calm down. We deal with their kind on a regular basis.”
Brett pushed back from the table and started pacing. Maia sighed and continued the briefing. “Guys, it seems we won’t be dealing with amateur gun slingers plucked from the streets of Mexico after all. There was enough chatter to warrant a cross-check with Immigration arrivals compared to what we have in our database. Our intel suggests the PMCs got in 36 hours ago via Dulles airport. Two guys have been identified, but we think there are eight. Viktor has alerted the emergency response team (ERT) just in case we get hit.“
“The road leading to Castle is mostly deserted, it shouldn’t be too hard to identify hostile transport,” Danner added.
“Manning, do we have satellite uplink?” Maia asked.
“Yes. Cycles every 3 minutes covering the exit to Castle.”
“Castle is about 30 klicks from the main highway, that should give us roughly 20 minutes heads up.”
“That’s not a lot of time,” Brett, ever the devil’s advocate, spoke up.
“How long would it take you to get into your vest and dive into the panic room?” Maia shot back.
“I’m not going in there—claustrophobic,” Brett declared.
Before Brett knew what was happening, his ass hit the chair, Maia’s palm squarely on his chest.
“Is this some kind of damn joke? You’re telling me this now?” Maia snapped furiously. “Listen McCord, it doesn’t matter. I’m bundling you into that room whether you like it or not.”
“Your manhandling is kinda hot.” Brett grinned, wiping the tension momentarily from his face before his shoulders slumped in resignation. “I’m not too claustrophobic.”
Maia looked up to the ceiling as if praying for divine intervention.
The SAT phone rang. Viktor.
“Pierce.”
“Maia, there are eight hostiles. We’ve connected three of them to Reznikov.”
“What? Reznikov is linked to Vergara?”
“It would appear so. Reznikov may be using Vergara to move the new recreational drug they have developed and isn’t too happy with Vergara’s impending incarceration.” He paused before adding. “Maia, I need to pull you out. It’s too dangerous for you.”
“No.We’re in the home stretch.”
“If Reznikov identifies you as the one who burned him in Russia, he’ll come for you with all he’s got.”
Small world.
“I’ll … be … fine.”
“I never should’ve …”
“Viktor, damn it, I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll monitor chatter. Keep you posted.”
Viktor disconnected.
Well, this bodyguard detail wasn’t turning out to be too boring after all.
Four hours later.
“They’re 20 klicks out,” Lucas crackled through the radio. Ten minutes earlier, two black SUVs had taken the exit to Castle from the main highway.
“Copy that,” Maia returned and handed a Kevlar vest to Brett. “Put this on.”
Danner skidded into the room, assault rifle cocked nonchalantly on his arm. “Panic room checked. Response team is on its the way.”
Maia nodded. “Take McCord into the panic room.”
Gunfire erupted and illuminated the courtyard. Lucas and Chavez were in elevated positions on external tower structures, camouflaged by trees, giving them sniper advantage. Manning and Edmunds were providing distracting fire behind the front windows and Danner was guarding the back.
Castle was a ranch-style house sparsely built on five acres of heavily wooded land. It had minimal furnishings and architecture because it kept getting blown up and rebuilt. All the windows were retrofitted with bars so that, even if the glass was broken, people couldn’t get in. Unfortunately, unless you had a key, you couldn’t get out either. The bars were configured like a gate and were on titanium hinges with a depressed locking mechanism located discreetly at the bottom right. There were two exits, front reinforced double doors and a steel back door located in the kitchen.
“Talk to me guys,” Maia spoke over the radio. She was crouched behind a sofa crafted with a bulletproof frame near the entrance leading to the panic room. “How many?”
“Two are down—I think Vergara’s foot soldiers. There are eight mercs plus two more foot soldiers. They’re hiding behind the SUVs, bulletproof.”
“Copy that,” Maia replied. Figures. So it was going to be a waiting game. “Danner, ETA on response team?”
“Ten minutes.”
“Fuck! RPG!” Lucas yelled through comms.
Suddenly an explosion rocked the outside wall. They were taking out their snipers.
“Breach!” Manning yelled.
“Lucas! Chavez! Report!”
Nothing.
Shit.
“Manning, Edmunds, fall back from the windows!”
Maia had barely gotten the words out when another explosion shattered the front door and blew out the windows and bars. Plaster rained down and a few deadly iron bars pierced the hardwood floors. Manning and Danner were unfazed and took up defensive positions further into the house. Maia scrambled towards the panic room and punched in the code. Opening the vault-like portal and without saying a word, she yanked Brett out and dragged him behind the sofa.
“Stay down!” she ordered.
“They’re moving in. Brace!” Chavez yelled through comms.
“Are you okay?” Maia asked.
“Lucas is unconscious. I’m okay but I think my leg is broken.”
Two canisters were thrown into the room amidst a hail of gunfire. Tear gas. Well, we’re ready for that, Maia smiled grimly.
“What do we do now? Why did you take me from the panic room?” Brett whispered.
Maia spun Brett around and fitted him with a respirator before putting one on herself.
Another explosion shook the house taking out the panic room.
“That’s why,” Maia said, matter-of-factly, as if panic rooms blown up by RPGs were an everyday occurrence.
Brett curled up, hugging his knees with his elbows and burying his head in his hands. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he repeated over and over.
A dark shadow fell across them as a merc dressed in all-black commando fatigues came running through the hole torn open by the blast in the panic room. Maia fired her weapon, the figure staggered back but did not go down. Damn robots! Maia launched herself and wrapped her legs around the merc’s neck and twisted, immediately hearing the killing snap before landing in a lunge position. Another hostile appeared, this time it was one of Vergara’s foot soldiers. Maia spun a roundhouse sweep to the back of the man’s legs and took him down. Immediately kneeling on her left leg, right leg cocked in front, she plugged him a double-tap with her automatic pistol.
Maia spied Brett darting towards the kitchen.
Damn it, Brett.
She tore after him at the same time noticing movement coming from the panic room again. She instinctively ducked and dodged right, but was stopped short by a burning sensation in her leg. She’d been shot.
Spinning and landing on her back, Maia saw her shooter and took steady aim at the area between her enemy’s neckline and squeezed the trigger. He went down on his knees before tilting forward, dead.
Meanwhile, Brett was backing out of the kitchen, arms raised, a red laser dot of an assault rifle trained on his chest. Maia quickly assessed the situation. Danner was engaged in hand-to-hand combat with another merc, and Manning and Edmunds were still shooting it out in front.
Maia tackled Brett sideways and felt a jarring jolt to her shoulder caused by the impact of a bullet.
Before landing on Brett, she was able to draw her throwing knife. The laser was trained on her head and she sprang to her haunches and threw the knife aiming for the merc’s jugular.
The rifle fired again.
“Castle was hit.”
Jack tensed at Derek’s words. Phone calls at 1 a.m. were always bad news. Holding his breath, Jack asked, “Brett?”
“Brett is fine, not a scratch on him.”
He frowned. Derek sounded pissed-off.
“Any casualties from the Guardians?” Was Maia okay? was what Jack really wanted to know.
“Nothing major: broken leg, concussion, GSW. We better get there soon before Maia throttles that brother of yours.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t have all the details. Brett bolted, got himself in trouble. Maia took two bullets trying to shield him.”
Christ! I’d strangle that brother of mine, myself, Jack thought angrily.
“I should be on your building’s helipad in ten,” Derek said and disconnected.
There wasn’t much left of Castle. The front was blown out and so was the side and back of the house. No cops were present. The place was crawling with AGS agents. Under the radar! Twelve bodies were lined up in front of the house.
“Jesus Christ,” Jack muttered. “Brett’s lucky.”
Derek grunted in agreement.
A woman with glorious wild red hair was railing at Brett whose head was hung, face red with embarrassment.
“Seriously, I would shoot you myself, you pull a stunt like that again! I told you to stay down, not go tearing into the kitchen. You could have distracted Danner and gotten him killed!” Maia yelled.
“Maia we need to look at your leg and any injuries under the vest,” an AGS paramedic said.
“I’m okay!”
She whirled around her, blue eyes blazing, her hair a flaming mass gleaming against the residual fires around the house. She looked magnificent, Jack thought. She caught his eye and stalked towards him and Derek.
“Agent Pierce, you’ve had quite a night,” Jack said lightly.
“You need to knock some sense into that brother of yours,” Maia told him, still pissed before giving a chin lift to Derek. “Derek.”
“Sweetie, go get yourself checked out,” Derek said quietly.
Maia huffed and followed the paramedic to the medical van.
Brett walked up to them. Before Jack could lay in to him, his brother said. “I think I’m in love. Man, you should have seen her move. She took down four hostiles in a span of minutes … seconds even. She’s got quite a temper though. All that red hair.”
“Maia is all that,” Derek said knowingly.
“I dunno what to say, Brett, except … What. The. Fuck?” Jack growled furiously.
“Hey, not everyone can be like you. I panicked. Gunfire and explosions everywhere … couldn’t see a damn thing. At all. The clearest path was to the kitchen, so I took it.”
Jack counted to ten. The desire to drop his brother off in the middle of the Amazon so he would learn a few survival skills was proving a powerful temptation. And to have a woman, who was probably half his weight, repeatedly saving his ass was an affront to the McCord pride.
“I’m surprised none of the Guardians went down, outnumbered as they are. Not to mention facing a hellfire of RPGs,” Jack told Derek. “AGS sure knows their shit.”
“The emergency response team arrived before it got bad,” Brett added. “When Maia took that second shot to the chest, I thought it was game over, but she threw a knife at the shooter and took him down.”
“How did she get shot at the leg?” Derek asked
“Uh, she went after me and got distracted.”
Jack and Derek looked murderous. Brett ignored them, looking past their shoulders. “Looks like I’m not the only one in love with Agent Pierce.”
Jack turned and saw Mike Callahan walking briskly towards the medical van Maia was being treated. Her vest and shirt had been removed and she was wearing only a tank top. A bandage was wrapped around her right thigh.
Mike curled his hand around Maia’s head to draw her against his chest and then he buried his face in her hair. His other hand went to her back gently pulling her closer to him.
Jack bristled. “What the hell is the story there?”
“They were together for a few months two years ago. Obviously our DA hasn’t gotten over her,” Derek said.
“Have you ever…”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Derek sighed. “Maia doesn’t do relationships well. I mean, look at her job. You think any man will let her disappear for weeks on end with no assurances that when she returns, if she ever does, she wouldn’t be riddled with bullets? Do I love her? Yes. As a friend. And I’d rather not rock that boat.”
“Good.”
“What do you mean? Where are you going?” Derek called as Jack walked away.
“Staking a claim.”
Maia tried to pull away from Mike. This was awkward.
“Mike …”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just a flesh wound.”
“God, Maia you need to stop this…”
“Seriously, we’re having this conversation now?” Maia lashed out. She was coming down from an adrenaline rush and couldn’t deal with emotional bullshit.
“Counselor, I’m surprised to see you here,” a sardonic voice interrupted from behind them. Mike reluctantly released Maia to face an unhappy-looking Jack McCord.
Why did McCord look so furious?
“Mr. McCord,” Mike said tightly. Their gazes leveled, clearly sizing up one another. Realization finally dawned on Maia: Jack was interested in her! When had this happened?
Hell, she didn’t need alpha-male posturing at that moment and started to move away.
Before she could take two steps, Jack gripped her elbow halting her escape and told Mike, “You might want to check on your star witness. Make sure Vergara has not spooked him with this … spectacular … ah … assault.”
The DA paled, glared at Jack and strode towards Brett.
“That wasn’t nice,” Maia said reprovingly and before Jack could reply, added, “What’s your game, McCord?”
Jack smirked. Maia wanted to punch him.
“I like that. You’re perceptive and direct,” he drawled, his eyes turning heated as he took in the rise and fall of her breasts beneath her flimsy, ribbed tank top. The chilly night air had enhanced the outline of her nipples straining against the top. “Fuck. I shouldn’t be lusting after a woman who nearly got her leg blown off.”
“Uh….”
“I want you.”
“I’m your brother’s bodyguard.”
“So, after …”
“I can’t believe this!” Maia hissed. “Really, Mr. McCord this is highly inappropriate conversation. Besides, I don’t date or do relationships.”
“Did I say anything about a relationship?”
“So you just wanna fuck?”
Jack smirked again. Really this guy is impossible, Maia thought, her temper rising just as she felt a pulse between her legs. Oh God, hell no, she was not attracted to Jack McCord.
“You want me too.”
“You. Are. So full of yourself.”
Jack cupped her other elbow, drew her closer, and lowered his head to the side of her ear and whispered, “Don’t you want to be full of me?”
Maia’s eyes widened. Men didn’t usually talk dirty to her. Most would be too intimidated. She looked up into Jack’s slate-blue eyes, which were almost black in the flickering light. She could either dig her hands into his hair, drag his head down and shove her tongue into his mouth or she could pull away. Two can play this game, she thought. Summoning years of practice, Maia’s eyes fluttered to half-mast, she licked her lips and stared at Jack’s firm lips dreamily. She was pleased to hear his breath hitch before she smiled sweetly and said, “No.”
Maia tugged her arms free and strode off to where Brett, Mike and Derek stood in a huddle. They all had their eyes on her and Jack. Derek looked disapproving, Mike was thunderous and Brett was well, Brett. She needed to brief them on the new safe house, a bunker type structure not too far from Castle. Thank God there were less than seven hours before the whole mess was over. She was going to take up Viktor’s offer of a break and head to Bora Bora.
“You can run, Miss Pierce,” Jack called after her, and she could swear he murmured, “but you can’t hide.”
Raul Vergara was convicted on all counts of money laundering, narcotics trafficking and police bribery. He was sentenced to 30 years in prison. The list of transactions and names was released to respective agencies such as the DEA, FBI, Internal Affairs and the Department of Justice. The NPPD had taken a direct hit and sadly it would take time for the local police force to regain the trust of the public. The US Marshal’s East Coast division was also getting an overhaul. A few politicians in DC had resigned their posts as investigations uncovered their involvement in the drug trade.
Mike Callahan, New Park City DA had become the city’s local hero. AGS was working its butt off to make sure he stayed alive. He sure had made a lot of enemies.
Brett McCord had been whisked off to a family estate, parts unknown.
Numerous arrest warrants had been issued. Vergara’s men had scattered and started moving into smaller towns to hide the merchandise waiting until the heat cooled down. Millions of dollars in drugs had been confiscated, but there was still a sizable amount floating around.
And there was the matter of the Russians.
Jack and Derek emerged from a meeting with the DoD representatives. Needless to say their clients were pleased with the next stage of weapons testing.
Colonel Hugo Dalton was head of Advanced Weapons Acquisition and their main liaison at the DoD. His group worked closely with specialized units within the military to assess the changing landscape of covert operations.
A new lightweight carbine and an untraceable tracking device were on the fast-track to testing and production.
“New toys for the big boys,” Colonel Dalton declared jovially before stepping into the elevator with his colleagues to report back to the Pentagon.
Jack smiled wryly at Derek. “Now that was an easy sell.”
“Yeah.”
“Drinks back at my office? We can head out to dinner later to celebrate.”
“Man, we need to stop dating each other. No hope of getting back with Isabella?”
Isabella had been Jack’s girlfriend for eight months. Lasting longer than most of his other arrangements, she was gorgeous, sophisticated, good in bed and most of importantly, had not demanded much attention until two months ago, that is. Jack hated getting played. Apparently, Isabella had made it her life’s mission to become Mrs. Jack McCord and studied Jack’s past relationships to this end. Jack liked his independence so she had played it cool in the beginning. But when she realized Jack was not getting any nearer to committing to any future with her, she had started delivering ultimatums. Jack had not wasted any time in dispatching her ass three weeks before.
“I never go back, you know that. When I’m done, I’m done.”
“Jack, you can’t go on like this. You need to move on from Claire.”
A flash of pain jagged through Jack’s indigo eyes. Claire had been Jack’s fiancée, and had been killed twelve years before in an accident that also took the life of his sister, Anna. It was a hellish time for everyone. The accident was in fact a revenge hit ordered by enemies Jack acquired during his time as a Navy SEAL. His missions were top-secret, but there were rumored to be leaks in the CIA and names involved in some covert ops were released. There was an inquiry initiated by the McCord family, but it was dropped due to lack of evidence.
Jack couldn’t find it in himself to go through the heartbreak of losing someone he loved again. He did care for his girlfriends and was a generous lover both financially and physically, but his emotional involvement was minimal. “I’m over that.”
“No, you’re not.”
“What about you Derek? You’re older than I am. Why don’t you have a wife and three kids?” Jack shot back, getting irritated.
Derek was 41 years old, two years older than Jack. Dark blonde with brown eyes, he was physically built exactly like Jack – lean muscle and ruggedly handsome and was not lacking female company either.
“Point taken. But it’s not because I can’t commit. I just love women, different women.”
“I can’t keep track of your women. At least I’m monogamous.”
Derek sighed. “We’re hopeless. Maybe that’s why we’re such good friends.”
Jack grinned and thumped Derek on the back as they entered his office.
“Let’s stop commiserating like a couple of old women. Scotch?”
Derek’s cell phone started buzzing.
“Lockwood.”
Jack watched his friend listening intently to whoever was on the other end, and tensed when Derek’s face lost all color.
“Fuck! What’s her location?” Derek exploded. “No… no… I don’t remember the fourth encryption protocol. My cell is secure. Damn it, Viktor, just give me the damn coordinates!”
Jack was already handing Derek a pen and paper.
“Gotcha.” Derek ended the call, scribbling some numbers quickly.
“I need to go. I’m taking one of our fully equipped SUVs”
“Need backup?” Jack offered quietly.
The two friends frequently “helped” each other out in situations outside the office.
Derek looked at Jack carefully as if contemplating what he was about to reveal.
“What’s going on?” Jack pressed, an odd nagging fear crawling over his skin.
“Come on. I’ll tell you on the way. Can’t waste any more time.”