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Three days later…

“Without further ado, it is my great honor to introduce you to Chicago’s esteemed leader, Mayor Jonathon Finnegan.”

Cade Ellis scanned the applauding crowd for any possible threats as the recently elected mayor of Chicago approached the microphoned podium. The Aragon Ballroom was as impressive as it was iconic.

The enormous rectangular space was decorated with a multitude of round, linen covered tables. Low lying floral arrangements adorned each one, along with a slew of dishes and crystal, which were as fancy as the people who’d used them.

A multi-arched, second-story balcony hovered above, but lucky for Cade and his team, however, that area had been closed off for tonight’s event. It was bad enough, they’d been called in for this gig at the eleventh hour. Having even more blind spots to watch over as possible risks would be a giant pain in the ass.

“Stay sharp, boys.” Christian Hunt’s deep, familiar voice sounded from the mic hidden in Cade’s left ear. “Once Finnegan’s done with his speech, his personal security team will escort him from the stage, and then?—”

“We fall into place behind them,” he finished the other man’s sentence. “From there, we’ll ensure his safe exit from the building and get the mayor into his awaiting car without incident. Don’t worry, Boss. We got this.”

“He’s right, brother.” Brody King’s voice came through the mic next. “As far as ops go, this doesn’t seem like one worth sweating.”

Brody was a former Navy SEAL and the team’s SIC, or second-in-command. And he wasn’t wrong. The worst parts of this last-minute protection gig were the stiff-ass tuxedos and uncomfortable shoes.

Cade wiggled his scrunched toes, counting the minutes until he could get home and take the damn things off. “Once the mayor is in his car, we’re done…right?”

He gave his toes another wiggle and waited.

“The minute Finnegan is secured inside his vehicle, his unit is back in charge,” Christian confirmed.

Unit 544, a special security unit assigned to the city’s top official, typically worked alongside members of Chicago PD to keep Finnegan and those around him safe from harm. Tonight, however, was a different story.

“Any word on the investigation into what made his entire unit too sick to work this gig themselves?” John “Rocky” Rockland joined in on the conversation. “Was it actually food poisoning, or was something more at play?”

“You all know as much as I do,” Christian answered the other man. “Last communication I had with Superintendent Crowley was the text confirming tainted mayonnaise as the source of the issue.”

“The ‘issue’.” Cade snorted. “Meaning it made them all puke up their guts for hours on end.”

“And shit their pants,” Jagger Brooks added with a slight drawl. “Can’t forget that part.”

Leave it to Jagger to tell it like it is.

From where he’d been posted back at the ballroom’s entrance, Liam Cutler added an empathetic, “Laugh all you want, Brooks, but I feel bad for those guys. Getting sick like that here? I mean, there are like what …sixty-plus men in the mayor’s security unit? Pretty sure that’s more than the number of toilets in this place.”

Cade winced, refusing to picture the unpleasant image. “Yeah, you know that had to suck balls.”

“Ride home probably wasn’t much fun for any of them, either,” Jagger mused.

“At least the doc confirmed that’s all it was, and not some sort of nefarious plot to poison the mayor’s men,” Brody pointed out. “Although, that would be a pretty smart play to force a change-up so last-minute.”

Every member of their elite private security team knew all too well that changes in security personnel—especially so close to the planned event—could be enough to throw them all off their game. Not that Cade or the others would let that happen.

In their line of work, even the slightest mistake could cost someone their life.

“Fair point,” Christian agreed with Brody. “But my best guess is the food poisoning was done by someone who thinks it’s the mayor’s fault that serial killer still hasn’t been caught.”

The Omega Killer. That’s what the media had dubbed the man who’d already killed at least four women in and around Chicago.

The sick bastard would kidnap his victims and spend days slicing them up with his knife. When he was ready to move on, he’d carve the Greek symbol for Omega into their skin. Then he’d kill them and dump their bodies somewhere they’d be sure to be found.

So far, the Chicago PD had little to no leads. And as it so often happened, the city’s mayor was taking the brunt of the blame.

“That’s ridiculous.” Cade frowned with a slight shake of his head. “It’s not like the mayor can just magically identify the Omega Killer.”

“Sure would be nice if he could.”

The rumbled sentiment came from Jagger, though Cade knew every man on their team felt the same way. Hurting a woman in any way went against everything Cade and his friends stood for.

From their time in the military to working the private sector, they’d dedicated their lives to helping and protecting others. Knowing some sick fuck was still out there somewhere, hunting down innocent women made them all sick to their very core.

Another round of applause filled the low-lit ballroom as Chicago’s mayor concluded his speech. Pushing all thoughts of serial killers aside, Cade followed the plan and began making his way toward the stage.

He politely weaved himself through the formally dressed crowd who were in the process of giving the man a standing ovation. His sights bounced steadily between the man of the hour and what he could see of the venue.

The scent of power and money mixed with designer perfumes, and suddenly Cade couldn’t wait for the evening to come to an end. Just a few more minutes, and he’d officially be off duty. Free to go home to his empty apartment where his only plans for the night were to shower and chill.

Mayor Finnegan reached the top of the stairs leading down from the left side of the stage. One of his personal bodyguards was there to escort the politician toward the back entrance. A man who—along with the mayor—had been in a separate meeting when the contaminated food had been distributed to his crew.

“Finnegan’s heading down the stairs,” Christian informed the group as a whole. “Cutler, King, and I are approaching from the north. Ellis, you, Rocky, and Brooks still good covering from the south?”

“Affirmative for me,” Cade answered quickly. “I have Finnegan in my sights, and I’m only a few yards away.”

After Rocky and Jagger each gave their own confirmations from their spots across the room, Christian told the team, “Let’s get this guy through the rear exit and to his car so I can get back home to my gorgeous wife. Especially since, before I left the house, Meg was pretty vocal about how much she liked seeing me in a tux.”

“Easy, Hunt,” King warned from the other side of the ballroom. “That’s my sister you’re talking about, remember?”

Always quick on the draw, Liam dove in with an incredulous, “Seriously, Brody? The guy’s been married to Meg for like what…two years?” The former Marine Raider chuckled. “Might be time to cut the cord, bro.”

“The cord was never mine to cut, asshole,” King shot back gruffly. “And just because my sister married my best friend, that doesn’t mean I want to think about the two of them like… that .”

Fair enough. Cade didn’t have a sister, but if he did, he was pretty sure the last thing he’d want to think about would be her having sex with his best friend.

He grinned as he made his way closer to the mayor and his bodyguard. The brotherly ribbing between Christian and Brody was so commonplace, the night would seem off-kilter without it. That’s how their entire team rolled, really. And he wouldn’t have it any other?—

What the hell?

Movement in the shadows caught Cade’s attention. His steps faltered slightly as his focus slid up and to his left. He zeroed in on a shadowed section of the ornate balcony overlooking the space below.

“Hey, Hunt?” He spoke directly to his team leader. “Didn’t Finnegan’s men say they’d blocked off the entire second floor for the night?”

“Affirmative. Said CPD was covering the stairs and elevators to make sure no one tried going up there. Why?”

Cade looked toward the same spot again but saw nothing more in that section of the multi-arched balcony. “Never mind. I thought I saw…”

His voice trailed as he moved his focus in a constant back-and-forth slide. Splitting his attention between that area of the balcony and the man he was on his way to escort out of the building, he continued moving through the oblivious crowd.

The lights shifted overhead. After slowly skimming over those who had been invited, the bright beams returned to the city’s top political figure. When it did, Cade caught a glint of something in the same area of the balcony he’d been watching before.

He was about five feet from the mayor when he realized what it was.

“Gun!”

Cade leaped forward, his entire body flying through the air toward the shooter’s likely target. Fire erupted inside his left bicep as his entire body slammed into the mayor. Both men hit the floor with a thud as the cheers and applause turned to screams of terror.

Several curses filled his ear from the mic before Christian’s voice came booming through.

“Ellis, talk to me!” the other man shouted. “You hit?”

“I’m good!” He pushed himself off the shooter’s most likely target enough to pull his Glock 19 from its hidden holster. He’d been shot in the arm, and he was pretty sure the bullet was still in there, so “good” may be a bit of a stretch. But his shooting arm was uninjured, and he was still alive, so… “Mayor Finnegan, are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine.” The middle-aged man tried pushing Cade’s body off of his.

“Stay down.” Cade used his free hand to keep the mayor from making himself a greater target.

His gaze flew back up to where he’d seen the threat. There was a flash of movement as the man who’d just taken a shot at the mayor began running toward the balcony’s nearest exit.

To Finnegan’s bodyguard, he shouted, “Cover him until the rest of my team gets here!”

The bulky man nodded in agreement as he held his own pistol at the ready. “Where are you going?” he asked, keeping his muscular form over the mayor’s.

“To stop the son of a bitch before he gets away.”

A spared glance to his right showed Christian, Brody, and Liam sprinting his way. Knowing they’d keep the mayor safe, Cade jumped up and took off in the direction of the shooter. As he did, he gave his team every detail he could.

“Make sure the mayor gets the hell out of here in one piece,” he shouted loudly. “I’m going after the shooter!”

His team leader’s equally elevated voice came through the tiny mic a fraction of a second later.

“We’ve got Finnegan,” Christian yelled back. “Anyone see any other threats?”

“This is the only one I’ve seen, but there could be more!”

As the rest of the team responded, Cade sprinted toward the bottom of the nearest staircase. He took the steps three at a time on his way up to the balcony, catching sight of the shooter—rifle and all—running past before Cade could reach the top.

“He’s headed north along the west side of the balcony,” he shared with the others. “White man, mid-forties. Black tux, white shirt, and red bow tie.”

The way he was dressed said the asshole was either part of the catering staff or he’d somehow managed to sneak inside by dressing just like them. Either way, Cade’s newest mission in life was to stop the murderous bastard before anyone else got hurt.

In a surprising move, the man he was chasing suddenly tossed the rifle over the balcony’s edge. Without missing a beat, he reached his right hand behind his back, pulling a pistol that had been hidden beneath the man’s jacket.

A bullet whizzed past, barely missing Cade’s head and slamming into the wooden banister behind him. Fuck me! He dropped down into a low squat to avoid being struck again.

Waiting a beat, he rose back up, aiming his weapon in the would-be assassin’s direction. He pulled his trigger with well-trained ease, but the guy avoided being struck by Cade’s deadly bullet by shifting behind a giant pillar at the last second.

Son of a…

He pushed himself back to his feet, skipping two of the last three steps. His shiny shoes pounded against the floor, his leg muscles burning with their efforts to get him closer and closer to the man he was chasing.

A rectangle of light appeared at the end of the balcony’s walkway, Cade realized the shooter had just opened a door.

“Target just went through the northwest balcony exit. He’s heading to the back alley. I’m going after him!”

“Careful,” Christian warned. “This guy could be trying to lead you into a trap. Brooks, you and Rocky cover our boy’s six. I’ll have Finnegan’s driver use an alternate exit, just in case. King and I will get the mayor to safety and then come to you.”

“Rock and I are on your way now, Ellis,” Jagger let him know without pause. “Just make sure you keep your ass alive until we get there.”

Easy enough, since I have no plans of dying today.

As if on cue, the painful throbbing in Cade’s bicep made its presence known. He could feel his blood as it escaped from the wound which caused the starched sleeve of his dress shirt to become stuck to his skin.

Panicked screams from below lifted up into the air around him as his veins became filled with a constant flow of adrenaline. Sweat dripped down his forehead, but Cade ignored it all and pressed on.

He burst through the door where he’d last seen the suspect. Almost immediately, he heard the sound of the shooter’s hurried footfalls as the man used the stairwell below as his means of escape.

Gunfire cut through the air, bullets pinging off the nearby railing and slamming into the wall behind him. After ducking back to avoid being hit, Cade aimed the barrel of his Glock toward the suited figure at the bottom of the stairs and fired.

He missed, allowing the asshole to make his way out of the building’s back exit and into the alley unscathed.

Goddammit!

“Target’s in the alley out back,” he informed the members of his team. A heartbeat later, he spotted the bastard sprinting toward the only car parked along that side of the building.

Cade shouted for the man to stop, despite knowing the directive would almost certainly go unanswered. As expected, the man continued to run.

He turned and fired his weapon in Cade’s direction, the latest bullet to fly his way coming too damn close for comfort.

Screw this shit.

It was time to put this shit to bed, and Cade was pissed off enough to be the one to do it. He stopped running, aimed his weapon, and gave the dumbass one last chance to do the right thing.

“Move another fucking muscle, and I swear to Christ, I’ll shoot!” he shouted clearly.

The man stopped just shy of opening his car door.

For moment, Cade thought the suspect was actually going to do the right thing and turn himself in. Instead, the bastard made the absolute wrong decision.

Moving lightning fast, the guy swung his upper body around so that he was almost fully facing Cade. At the same time, he raised his gun, the barrel pointing straight in Cade’s direction. And then?—

Cade pulled his trigger, taking three consecutive shots. Two in the chest, and one in the head, exactly as he’d been trained.

A second later, the would-be killer’s pistol fell from his lifeless hand as it and the dead guy dropped to the ground below. It was over. The man who’d tried killing the mayor was dead.

And Cade was suddenly feeling a bit?—

“Damn, brother.” Jagger appeared to his left as he and Rocky came to a stop next to where Cade still stood. “Nice shot.”

“Thanks.” Cade fumbled a bit to re-holster his weapon. He felt a little dizzy, but a few quick blinks seemed to momentarily fix the issue.

“SITREP,” Christian called for an update through the comms in their ears.

“Suspect is down,” Rocky let their leader know. “Dumbass tried shooting Cade, but our boy was quick on the draw. No need for an ambulance, but a call to the coroner is definitely in order.”

“I’ll let the authorities know.”

“The mayor?” Cade asked, needing to know if the man they’d been hired to protect was okay.

“He’s good,” the other man told him. “Already on the road home.”

Relief left his shoulders falling. “Good deal.”

They’d done their jobs and kept the city’s mayor safe. Another win in the books for R.I.S.C.’s Delta Team.

R.I.S.C., which stood for Rescue, Intel, Security, and Capture, was the most well-known private security conglomerate in the country. There were four active teams with rumors of a fifth one being in the works.

Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta, and the soon-to-be Echo Team.

Started by a former Delta Force Operator by the name of Jake McQueen, each team consisted of former military badasses who now used their skills and training to continue protecting American citizens who found themselves in need of serious help.

Some situations were best left to the cops, but others…

“Shit, brother.” Jagger took a step back, concern dropping the man’s dark brows as his dark gaze fell on the place where Cade had been shot. “You’re bleeding like a stuck pig.”

Rocky shifted to the side a bit so he was standing directly in front of Cade. “What the hell, man?” His blue eyes filled with worry. “You were hit? How bad?”

“Not…bad.”

A wave of lightheadedness sent him wobbling a bit on his feet. Jagger’s arm shot out to give him some support. At the same time, Rocky cursed beneath his breath as he put a finger to his ear.

“Hunt, this is Rock. We’re gonna need that ambo after all.”

“The shooter’s alive?”

“Not him. Ellis.”

“Just a s-scratch,” he tried telling his worried friends.

Did I just slur my words? I sounded like a drunken fool.

He opened his mouth to let his friends know he may not be okay after all. But before he could utter a sound, Cade felt his legs start to give out beneath him.

“Scratch my ass,” Jagger muttered as he and Rocky guided him toward the building.

Cade felt himself being lowered into a seated position. With slow, gentle movements, they leaned him back against the wall behind him.

A dark shroud narrowed his unfocused vision. He thought he may have heard Jagger shouting his name.

Rocky shouted an angry, “Where the fuck is that ambulance?”

Seconds later, the pain he’d been feeling vanished…along with everything else.