Page 4

CHAPTER 4

D eacon woke instantly. He could see the first light of the morning sun peeking through the drapes. They’d used all his condoms before finally falling back to sleep after their quick power nap. Fuck, the woman was astonishing. Her ability to keep up with him was a first. She was powerful, fit, and funny as hell. Sparky . He smiled and looked at her on the other side of the bed. Her hair covered her face, but her steady breathing told him she was sleeping soundly. He got up and found the small pad on one of the nightstands. He gave her his cell number with a note underneath.

Call me. This is too good to ignore.

After signing his first initial, he got dressed, and though he wasn’t particularly silent, she still slept soundly. He glanced at his watch and then at the door. He needed to get back and get ready for the day. After leaving her keycard by the pad where he’d written the note, he gave the beautiful woman on the bed one last look. He was almost certain he’d never hear from her again, and that would be a shame.

He let himself out and stopped at the desk, putting in a wake-up call for her for eight. Most meetings started at nine, so hopefully, she wouldn’t be late for whatever meeting had brought her to Thailand. The walk back to his hotel was cool and quick. The city was just waking up, and the still-flowing traffic had yet to turn into a major artery of metal, motors, bikes, and motorcycles.

The hotel lobby was empty except for a janitor and the tired-looking clerk behind the desk. Deacon swiped his keycard to access the floor where he and his team stayed in the suites, then pressed his card against the card reader and silently opened the door.

Sleeping on the couch, Ranger moved in a fluid arch, his arm leveled at ground level and his forty-five pointed directly at the door and him.

“Don’t shoot me, Ranger. It would kill my good mood.”

Ranger grunted and returned to his slumber, the gun disappearing under the man’s pillow. Ranger must have drawn the short straw. Usually, one of them camped out in the living area. It was a habit born from caution.

Deacon walked into his room and straight into the shower. The hot water relieved his sore muscles. He smiled at the memory of one of the best nights of his life. Echo. What a name and what a lady. He showered and dried off before calling room service and ordering enough food to feed an army, or his team, in his case. He dressed casually—jeans and a T-shirt—and then moved quietly through the living room to the small kitchenette area to start a pot of coffee. Glancing at his watch when he heard Ranger stirring, he poured a second cup, handing it to the big guy as he shuffled into the kitchen.

Deacon chuckled at the man. Ranger didn’t wake up in a good mood. He never had. His hair was sticking up in five or six different directions, and his eyes were slits, but he found the coffee cup Deacon held out to him and took a swig. After a couple of minutes, Ranger found his voice and asked, “Where the hell were you all night, or should I not ask?”

Deacon smiled and lifted his eyebrow. “Don’t ask.”

“Damn.” Ranger rubbed his face. “Ace and Bandit found some sweeties. They aren’t back yet. Rip and I came home at about two. I got the short straw.”

“Figured when I was met with a faceful of forty-five.” Deacon put down his cup when there was a knock at the door. “I ordered room service.”

He opened the door and put his hand on his hip. “Where’s your key?” Bandit looked like someone had rolled him through an alley.

“In my wallet.”

Deacon moved aside as Bandit walked in. “And that is?”

“With the woman who stole it.” He shrugged. “Nothing in it but a few bucks, but she didn’t know that.”

“Was it worth it?” Ranger asked from the kitchen door.

Bandit yawned. “Probably not, but it was amazing.” He dragged past Deacon. “Need a shower.”

“Yeah, you do,” Deacon said, getting a middle finger salute for his effort. He chuckled and refilled his coffee. “If Ace isn’t back by eight, have Click locate him.”

Ranger yawned and nodded at the same time. “What time is the briefing?”

“Eight.” Deacon poured another cup of coffee. “Click said it was with the CIA supervisory officer for the Pacific area.”

Ranger blinked and then rubbed his eyes. “Supervisory officer for the entire region? Must be something big.”

Deacon shrugged and answered the knock at the door. This time, it was breakfast. He motioned for the trolley to be put into the kitchen area, tipped the guy, and waited while Ranger pulled out the small handheld device that told them whether a bug was hidden on the cart.

“Clear,” Ranger said as he took a plastic lid off a plate. “Fuck, thanks, Cap.” He took the plate and a roll of silverware over to the table.

“Anytime.” Deacon laughed and pulled off another plastic lid. Two eggs, over easy, two sausage links, two bacon strips, fried potatoes, and toast, same as Ranger’s plate. There were pastries and fruit somewhere on the cart, but this was what he wanted. Fuel.

He tucked into his meal, and Ranger asked, “Was she a local?”

Deacon shook his head. “American. From Virginia. She’s here for a meeting. Does something with IT.”

“Must’ve been special. You don’t usually do one-night stands.” It wasn’t an accusation, and it was the truth.

“She was beautiful, fit, and had a great laugh.” He shrugged. “I could like her.”

Ranger’s eyebrows hit his hairline. He paused with a speared sausage halfway to his mouth. “Really?”

Deacon nodded. She was one in a million. Sexy, fun, and smart. Just his luck he’d be gone by afternoon. Which sucked. If he had another day, he’d still be with her. But wishes weren’t his realm of responsibility; missions were. “I’d bet a thousand bucks I’ll never see her again, though. You know this job.”

“Probably. Not taking that bet.” Ranger dipped his chin and popped the sausage into his mouth before asking, “You got her number?”

It took Deacon a moment to decipher what the man had said, but it finally registered, and he answered, “Nah, but I left mine for her.” He piled some eggs on his toast and took a bite. “Figured the ball was in her court.” Even though they’d both been raised with proper manners, living so long with the same men and being in the field, manners, when other people weren’t around, slid to the side and stayed there.

The door opened, and Ace walked in. He glanced at them, lifted his hand, and went straight to his bedroom. Ranger shoveled more food in his mouth before mumbling, “All the chicks are in the coop, Mother Hen.”

“Thanks for the headline.” Deacon rolled his eyes and moved his chair closer to the wall when Bandit entered the small kitchen area. The table could hold three men. If anyone else showed up before one of them was done, they’d have to eat standing up or in the suite's living area.

After Deacon finished his meal, Ranger got a second plate, which Deacon had accounted for. Ace, fresh from the shower, came in with a towel over his shoulders. He pulled off a plastic cover from the stack of plates and sat down when Deacon stood up and put his plate back on the trolley. “What time is the meeting?” Ace asked.

“Eight.”

“We’ll be ready,” Ranger said, and the other two nodded.

Deacon refilled his coffee and leaned against the small counter. “I have no idea what the mission is or where we’ll be heading. The only thing I know is it involves the CIA.”

“Well, that sucks.” Ace snorted.

“The CIA?” Bandit asked.

“No, not knowing anything else,” Ace replied. “I’ve worked with good and bad officers. Like anywhere else, people are who they are. All the security checks in the world won’t change human nature.”

Ranger stopped eating and looked at Ace. “Well, hell, that was deep. Who are you, and what have you done with Ace?”

Ace spoke through his food. “Fuck you, man. I’m deep.”

Bandit laughed. “Yep. Bullshit piles up.”

They laughed, and Ace held up a double-finger salute at all of them.

“Careful, that degree in philosophy is showing,” Ranger said.

“Psychology, asshole,” Ace reminded him.

“Right,” Bandit said. “Doesn’t help your sour demeanor.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m a fucking ray of sunshine.” Ace couldn’t keep a straight face, and they all laughed again. Rip wandered in and made a direct line for the coffee pot. “Did Ranger make this?”

“No,” everyone said at the same time.

“Thank God,” Rip whispered, pouring some of it into a cup. “My head is killing me.”

“Too much of a good thing?” Deacon asked. It wasn’t like his guys to drink too much, especially in a foreign country.

“No. I only had three drinks all night.” He turned to look at Ranger. “Right?”

Ranger nodded. “Yeah. Three, and we didn’t leave them unattended.”

“I’ve got some stuff.” Bandit got up. “Don’t throw that away.” He pointed at his half-eaten plate. “Eat something, Rip. Taking this shit on an empty stomach isn’t advised.”

Rip nodded and found the pastries. He had an infamous sweet tooth, but he didn’t devour the pastry like he usually would. Deacon fixed another pot of coffee and waited until Rip had taken the meds. “You go back to bed. The others will clear up and get ready to move out.”

“Okay.” Rip walked out of the kitchen without any argument.

“Damn,” Bandit said what they were all thinking. Rip had to be hurting if he didn’t argue about helping out.

“Keep an eye on him.”

“You know it,” Ranger said, speaking for everyone. He nodded to Deacon. “You better get going, or you’ll be late.”

He glanced at his watch. “Yeah.” He lifted his coffee and took a drink. “My comms are in my room. We'll hook up with Click and management as soon as I have the mission brief.”

“Copy, we’ll do another sweep of the apartment,” Ranger added. They all knew the needs of operational security.

“Roger that.” Deacon downed the last of his coffee. “I’ll be back.”

Returning to his room, he brushed his teeth and grabbed his wallet and keycard. It took three minutes to make it to the main floor and another two to find the conference room they’d use. It wasn’t difficult. Two black-suited men stood outside.

“Deacon Alexander,” he said by way of introduction when he arrived at the door and showed his Guardian credentials in his wallet.

“I need to search you, sir,” one of the suits said.

“I have no doubt.” He knew how the CIA worked. He handed the man his wallet and lifted his arms. An electronic sweep followed the pat down. His wallet was searched and swept before it was given back to him. His watch and cell phone stayed outside the room with the guards.

Deacon opened the door and walked in. “Deacon?” The older gentleman at the head of the table stood.

“Yes, sir.” He moved to the head of the table and offered his hand.

“I’m Supervisory Officer Tim Flanagan. We’re waiting for the asset you’ll take on this mission.”

That wasn’t unusual. For the most part, the CIA used Guardian as a protective detail for their assets so they could slip into an area or slip out. Guardian Security was the only federally recognized, privately-owned security company in the world. They performed missions and duties federal organizations couldn’t touch due to red tape and tied hands. Guardian protected those who couldn’t protect themselves and had numerous arms to do so, with domestic teams like Deacon’s and black ops assassins who went after the worst of the monsters the world needed eliminated. No, they didn’t have the same constraints, and they weren’t federally funded. They had the best of everything because the owner of the company mandated it. Of course, the owner was his father, but no one knew that. It was information that was tightly safe guarded at the highest level, and that was for everyone’s safety.

Deacon lifted an eyebrow and asked, “Where are we going?”

“We can get into that when our specialist arrives.” Officer Flanagan pointed to the coffee carafe. “Would you like a cup?”

“Thank you.” After accepting a cup, he sat down beside Flanagan.

“I know Jason King well. He’s a font of integrity.”

“I agree.” Deacon nodded. Jason was the true leader of Guardian Security now that his father had officially retired for the last time.

“I remember when Gabriel was running the organization back in the day. He was an intense man. Did you ever meet him?” The officer took a sip of his coffee.

Deacon smiled. Yeah, he’d met his dad a time or two. “I have.”

“Then you’ve met one in a million. His drive and determination laid the foundation for that company. I had a friend who joined him back when the organization was young. Frank Marshall. I lost track of him, but that man was another intense guy. He was a country hick but had a great future with Guardian. I’ve never seen such loyalty to an organization.”

Uncle Frank was country through and through. Deacon smiled and shrugged. “It isn’t loyalty to an organization, exactly. It’s loyalty to the people in the organization. I’ve never met anyone in Guardian I wouldn’t lay my life down for or the other way around if needed. Integrity.”

“See, that’s what people don’t understand. Integrity is a concept that’s hard to teach,” Flanagan said before glancing at his watch. “Not like our specialist to be late.”

“Traffic sucks in the city, and it’s rush hour.” Deacon wasn’t too impressed with the asset if they couldn’t be on time.

The officer made some noise of agreement, but his words were interrupted by a knock on the door. “Enter,” he barked.

Deacon blinked and did a double-take when the specialist entered. Then he stood and smiled.

Echo walked through the door. Her hair was wound in a tight bun at the back of her head. Her black slacks and crisp white shirt under a black blazer didn’t hug her figure today. She looked positively matronly, but he’d seen what was under the oversized clothes.

Echo stopped and blinked, looking at him. Her surprise was clearly displayed. The officer looked between them. “Do you two know each other?”

“We do,” Deacon said. “We met at a restaurant last night. She had an issue with the bartender not understanding her. Good to see you again.”

Echo took his hand, and the spark between them hadn’t lessened. She smiled. “And you. Small city, isn’t it?”

“It would seem.”

“This seems rather redundant, but Echo Lashay, this is Deacon Alexander, the lead for the team that will escort you in and out of Laos.”

Deacon narrowed his eyes at the officer. “When?”

“Immediately,” Echo replied.

He lifted an eyebrow and looked at her. “Why?”

She glanced at the officer, and he spoke. “Four days ago, a piece of hardware was stolen from our facilities in Virginia. An officer provided assistance, access, and intelligence to the Triad of the Serpent.”

Deacon sat back and stared at the officer. “So, we’re retrieving hardware?”

“No, not exactly.” Echo sat down. “Sir, do I have permission?”

“He has the clearance.” The man nodded.

“The device is a storage unit for our most sensitive material. In this case, the device contains the locations, cover aliases, and contact information for our undercover officers currently embedded in foreign countries. The host countries don’t know they’re there. These officers have been in a communications blackout, relying on periodic encrypted updates to indicate their safety and operational progress. The data on the device includes the last-known coordinates of these officers along with critical operational details needed to extract them. These coordinates are encoded in a way that requires decryption within a specific timeframe, or the information will delete itself, leaving the officers stranded in dangerous situations.”

Officer Flanagan interjected, “Echo’s expertise is needed to access the coordinates and extract actionable data immediately to avoid a fatal delay. Your team is there to protect her because these coordinates could mean life or death for our officers. If the data isn’t accessed immediately, these officers are effectively cut off, with a high chance of capture or death.”

Deacon frowned. “There isn’t any redundancy for this equipment?”

Officer Flanagan sighed and shook his head. “No, it was a single point of failure that Echo had warned us about, but …”

“I was ignored.” She lifted an eyebrow and stared at Officer Flanagan.

“She was,” he admitted.

“Why does she need to go? We can go in, recover it, and bring it out.”

Echo placed her hands on her hips. “We don’t have time for you to bring it out, and I have to be the one to open it. I created it, and it works on bio-locks. I’m one of three people who can unlock the device. If I don’t open it, the information will be wiped, and we won’t be able to reach the officers. That means the information will be lost if anyone tries to open it before we arrive.” She shook her head. The burden of what had happened was clearly on her shoulders. “It should never have been accessible.”

Flanagan agreed. “We’re making internal changes to ensure no more single points of failure. The rogue officer was cornered, and he shot himself rather than be taken. Before he died, he told the officers surrounding him the device was being taken to Laos, and we’ve connected money the officer received to the Triad.”

Deacon lifted an eyebrow. The Triad was the largest cartel in the area and responsible for a long line of money, death, destruction, and political turmoil. They’d fought the fuckers numerous times.

Deacon crossed his arms. “It’s a big country.”

Flanagan reached for a map lying beside him and unrolled it. “We’ve corroborated information on three camps that the Triad occupy.”

Echo leaned over with him and pointed to the locations on the map. “Here, here, and here.”

Deacon studied the map. He knew the country, and the problems of reaching any camps without detection were stacked against them. “Which one first?”

“This one.” Echo tapped the map and extended her hand. Flanagan gave her a manila envelope, and she withdrew several satellite images showing the camp and its setup.

After committing the photos to memory, he dropped them. Then he stood up and studied the map, asking, “And if this isn’t the camp?”

“We move on to the other camps.” She sighed. “My gut tells me this will be the camp. If our intelligence is accurate, it has the most infrastructure and a communications node. Selling and disseminating the information would be a priority for them. They don’t know they can’t hack the system. If they go past the fail safes and attempt to open it, the information is gone.”

“So, a calculated risk.” He could deal with that.

“Based on the best information we could obtain, yes.” Echo nodded.

He cocked his head and asked, “Why weren't we briefed yesterday if we’re working against the clock? We were all in country.”

Flanagan drew a deep breath. “We needed clearance to share this information with you, and coordinating the release took a while. As a matter of fact, I only received the final approval five minutes before you walked in the door. We’ve been attempting to place our own resources for the extraction, but we don’t have a team available.” Flanagan rubbed his head. “No organization likes to admit they’ve fucked up, but I agree, we’ve wasted valuable time.”

Deacon hated the fact that saving face took priority over saving lives, but honestly, it didn’t surprise him that any government agency would focus on reputation before repairing the fucking issue. He looked at Flanagan. “Logistics?”

“I’ve been in contact with Guardian without my organization’s knowledge. In my position, I knew what we needed, and Jason King and I have been coordinating the response. I’ll deal with any reprimand that may come my way over that. We have a transport aircraft on the tarmac waiting. My men will transport you and Echo to the plane.”

Deacon stared at the map on the table. “All right, I’ll contact Guardian as soon as I get back to my team. Do you have a go-bag ready?”

“I threw one together. It’s been years since I’ve been in the field.” Echo grimaced. “I’m in shape, physically. I have an old uniform that will work, but I don’t have any weapons or climate gear.”

“We can outfit you for the most part.” Deacon rubbed his chin. “Each transport has essential equipment for the areas they cover.” He glanced at her, assessing her size. “Boot size?”

“I have jungle boots,” she replied.

“Yeah, but it’s monsoon season. You’ll need water-repellant boots, rain gear, and such.”

“Oh.” She blinked. “Male size six. Female eights.”

“We’ll do the best we can,” he said before asking, “You realize we’re going to have to parachute in?”

Echo nodded. “It’s been a long time, but I’ve been through jump school at Fort Benning, and I have my wings.”

“So, you’ve jumped before? That will help.” Deacon was slightly impressed. Check that. He was impressed. For some reason, he’d figured she was at a desk or behind the line most of her time in the military. He turned to Flanagan. “Is there anything else?”

Flanagan stood up. “Echo has all the additional information needed for this mission. It’s essential we get that device and the information is delivered to us. Guardian assures me they can communicate the information to us without it being intercepted. You must have some high-tech comm devices.”

Deacon smiled at Flanagan. “Guardian has communication technology that most of the world doesn’t.”

Echo’s eyebrows shot up toward her hairline. “The rest of the world doesn’t have it? I can’t wait to see how it works.”

Deacon looked at her. “That will have to be approved.”

Flanagan shoved his hands in his pockets. “Good luck. Echo, I know this doesn’t mean squat right now, but I’ll do whatever I need to do to ensure your section is listened to.”

Echo huffed out a harsh breath and tried to smile. “Thank you for your assistance.”

Deacon was ready to get to work. “If there’s nothing else we need to be briefed on, let’s go.”

They exited the room, retrieved their belongings, and Deacon shouldered Echo’s go-bag, which she’d left with the guards. She grabbed a small suitcase, and they walked down the hall. Once they were out of the earshot of the officers at the door, she looked at Deacon and elbowed him. “So, how are you doing this morning, Sparky?” Her laughter was contagious. Deacon shook his head. This woman had so much sass.

He glanced over at her. “You realize you’ll pay for that, right?”

She laughed again. “Oh, I was counting on it. I saw your note and put your number in my phone. I wanted to text this morning, but frankly, I wasn’t sure when I would be back in the States.” She sighed. “I’ve been anxious about being in the field again, but I’m the only one who can complete it.”

“Why’s that? You said there were three who could open it.”

“Yeah, and the other two are ancient. One has a heart condition, and the other is a diabetic on insulin.” She looked over at him. “The CIA may employ me, but I’m not a field officer, nor is anyone in my section. All my field experience was in the military, which they discount out of hand. That’s why all our communication and concerns have been pigeon-holed. We’re typical employees with layers and layers of management over us.”

Deacon could clearly see the stress of the situation weighing on her. He called the elevator with his keycard. “It won’t be easy. I’m not going to blow smoke up your skirt and tell you it will be, but I’ve never lost an asset on a mission, and I certainly don’t plan to start with you.”

She smiled briefly. “That is really good to know. I’m glad we met last night, that what happened … well, happened, and that you’re the man in charge of getting me in and out of the country. On the way over here this morning, I worried that whoever was in charge of the team was an asshole or a royal jerk.”

“Oh, I can be an asshole.” Deacon chuckled as they entered the elevator, and he tapped his card again to take them to the suite level.

She nudged him with her shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. I’ll ask you how you want to play this, though.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

He turned to face her. “We know each other. How well we let my team know we know each other is up to you to decide.” He wasn’t taking that power away from her. He’d play it the way she wanted it to run.

“Oh.” She blinked and looked at the elevator door as it opened. “Will they think less of me?”

“For what?”

“Being a one-night stand?”

“You’re not a one-night stand in my mind.” He took her arm and walked her out of the elevator before the door shut on them. “You’re a friend of mine. A close friend. They don’t need to know anything more than that.”

She nodded. “That works, and thank you for not saying anything more to Flanagan about last night.”

He stopped her in front of the suite he shared with his team. “I told you last night I would never treat anyone that way. You can trust me.”

She stared up at him. Her chocolate-colored eyes were something he could get lost in so easily. “I’m trusting you with my life and the life of officers around the world.”

Deacon blinked. “Well, damn, no pressure there.”

She laughed, and then he opened the door and yelled, “Lady on deck!”