Page 1 of Trapped (Snowbound with a Stranger #2)

The Ex-Assassin

Eli

Before Erin

Heart racing, I crawled across the grassy canopy under the shroud of night. My target was close, hidden in the confines of the metal bunker, yet almost within my reach. All I needed to do was take out the pitiful line of security surrounding him and put a bullet in his brain.

So far, so normal.

Eliminating so-called enemies of the state was what I did, what I’d been trained to do, and my target was only the latest operation in a long line of nebulous objectives I’d been taught not to care about or consider.

Just another mission.

Nothing special.

But closing the distance on my belly, it was different.

Everything was different.

How? My brow furrowed at the intervening query, reminding me that the bunker was no longer in front of me, the memory playing out only in my mind. How was it different?

The air that night had been heavier somehow, as though the nature around me could sense the alteration and was tacit in its complicity, the oppressive atmosphere pushing me down into the dirt, but I never noticed it in real time. Only hindsight and months of overthinking had revealed those changes. Only standing there in front of my superiors had compelled the clarity.

At the time, I’d been on autopilot. I’d been trained not to think. The state didn’t want critical thinkers amongst their ranks. It wanted obedience. Closing my eyes, I returned to that darkness, capturing its lucidity with ease until the scent of the dank air caught in the back of my throat.

I’d been crawling toward the bunker as planned, but then something happened, something that sent me into a panicked spiral and propelled my face into the mud.

What was it? I struggled to recall. A sound, maybe?

Straining my mind to recollect, I vaguely remembered an unexpected noise that had left me reeling. Anxiety tightened in my stomach at the memory. I’d heard something—someone—interfering in the mission and drawing my target’s attention to my presence, but despite my senior officers blaming that sound on me, I hadn’t been the cause.

Things had unraveled fast after that, and in the haze of recriminations, I hadn’t identified the culprit—or culprits—who’d intervened to the top brass. My boss, Hawkins, had told me it was my error, dismissing my blurry recollections as shock and guilt, and, well-trained little pet that I’d become, I’d been ready to believe it was my failure.

I must have made the noise. It was an incredible error for someone so experienced, yet the fault must have been mine.

“Commander Rosen.”

My head lifted at the sound of my name, and all at once, the freezing dirt was gone, replaced by the dull, pale interior of the civil service boardroom.

“Yes, sir.”

Chin rising, I stood straighter to attention, my gaze drilling past the tedious man who was technically my superior.

The memory of that night had been so real I’d almost believed I was there, but the monotonous suspense of the gray room brought me crashing back to reality.

“The panel has met to consider your conduct during Operation White Out.”

White Out.

I fought the urge to snigger at the preposterous name. As I recalled, there had been nothing white about that night at all. They should have called it Operation Mud Everywhere.

“The committee found that, on the evening of March 2nd, 2016, Commander Rosen was culpable for the outcome of the failed mission.”

Culpable.

The word burned into my psyche, muting the ashen man’s moaning monologue until I couldn’t focus on anything else.

I was accountable. It was my fault.

“… prior infringements on his record forbade a return to active service…”

Tuning in just long enough to get the gist, my stomach sank. If I wasn’t authorized to return to active service, then why was I even there? They could have sent me an email to tell me it was over. That would have been kinder, but then, the security services had never been known for kindness.

“There!”

The holler came from the other side of the bunker, my eyes squeezing closed as the enormous searchlight held me in its sights.

“I see him!”

Running on adrenaline, I was on my feet in seconds, weapon locked and loaded, aiming at the unknown adversary.

The next few moments were murky in my memory, but I remembered the screech of gunfire, though whether it came from my gun or his, I couldn’t say for sure. The volley lit the black like trails of fireflies, fleeting and ferocious. In those protracted seconds, my dread nearly overcame all those years of drills I’d been forced to endure, but somehow, I kept it together, taking out at least three foes before the searing pain of the gunshot wound scorched my skin.

The guttural screech that left my lips filled my ears, but I stumbled on in spite of the hurt. All I knew as I ran toward my fate was that I’d made a huge mistake and we were all going to pay for it.

“Do you have anything you’d like to say for the record, Commander?”

The tiny man peered over his spectacles at me, his stare reminding me again of where I was.

Still on parade in the nicotine-stained room—all eyes drilled on me.

“No, sir.”

I hadn’t even been listening, so saying anything at that juncture was out of the question. Besides, at that moment, I believed the narrative Hawkins had forced me to swallow.

It was my dereliction of duty.

I deserved to be punished.

“I accept full responsibility.”

There was no point blowing smoke up his ass. Everyone in the room knew what I’d done and why we were there.

Rosen had messed up, and he’d have to pay.

“Understood.”

The gray man glanced down at his paperwork, though I wasn’t sure why. The decision had already been made.

“Your country appreciates your service, Commander, but we won’t be renewing your license.”

“Yes, sir.”

All those years of responding to futile orders had conditioned me so well that, even in the face of the rebuke that curtailed my entire career, all I could do was parrot the required response back to my superior.

“Thank you, Commander.”

He nodded in my direction, his grimaced expression slightly more relaxed than before.

“These proceedings are over.”

Standing there as the court-martial dissolved around me, I was struck by how the insignificant man had continued to use my title.

Commander.

Was I still one of those after being summarily dismissed from duty?

“You’re done, Rosen.”

My boss’s boss, Baron, moved in beside me, whispering into my ear.

“This is over.”

No words had ever been truer.

“Where do I go?”

Disorientated, I glanced around as though I didn’t know the place when, in truth, I’d been based at the London site for nearly a decade.

“Come with me.”

Baron tugged at my jacket, persuading me to turn and face the virtually empty room.

“You look like you need a drink.”

“Right.”

I’d managed to terminate my career as a state-employed assassin—the only thing I was qualified to do—while I was still in my prime. It was going to take more than a drink to remedy the void opening up in my so-called existence.

“Sounds good.”

He led me from the room, out into the stony silence of the beige corridor, and eventually, to his office.

“You’ll need to pack up your stuff.”

His gaze was steely as he opened a cabinet and retrieved a bottle of an expensive-looking liquor.

“They’ll want you off-site by the end of the day.”

The end of the day?

My focus flitted to the small, black clock ticking on the wall behind him. How dare it tick so happily when my entire world was imploding?

“And then what?”

My wistful question was more rhetorical than real, but pouring the amber liquid into two crystal tumblers, Baron seemed hellbent on answering.

“It’s up to you.”

He thrust a glass at me.

“I’ll provide you with a stellar personal reference if it helps.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Accepting the tumbler, my fingers wrapped around its girth as my nostrils inhaled the potent aroma.

He didn’t have to help me, and doing so wouldn’t win him much favor with the hierarchy. Vaguely, I knew I should have been more grateful, yet it was as though I couldn’t muster the emotion.

Numbness had spread over me, starting as shock in my chest and reverberating out to all four limbs. I’d got so good at building up walls that I couldn’t feel—it was essential in my profession—but the unsettling sensation was something new. Dimly, I was cognizant of the burning liquid as I tipped it past my dry lips, but I couldn’t say I felt it. It was as if someone else was tasting the alcohol, and I was merely watching his experience through the lens of a camera.

“I didn’t think it would come to this.”

Though, as my gaze settled on the window behind his desk, I knew that was a lie. The odds of the proceedings ending that way had been clear to me from the get-go. All the gray men had done was verify my suspicions with grunts and paperwork.

“You’ll be okay.”

Baron’s well-practiced consolation swept over me.

“You’re a smart guy, Rosen. The world is your oyster.”

“I’m an ex-sniper with a God complex.”

I shook my head at his sunny analysis.

“Who would possibly want to employ me?”

“Well…”

Baron chuckled.

“Maybe leave that out of your biography when you apply for something new.”

“Yeah.”

Something new.

My head fogged at the mere idea. It seemed that expecting the outcome hadn’t prepared me to manage it.

“Chin up. You’ll think of something.”

Moving closer, Baron patted me on the shoulder.

“You always do.”

“Yeah.”

I forced my lips into a feigned smile.

I always do.