Edge of Reason (EDGE Security Series Book 2) (4 page)

Anger swirled in her gut at the ruthlessness. “Do we get to go do something about them?”

“Not yet,” Commander Knight said. “I’m just giving you some background. The rest of the intel is in the brief.”

“Why are we involved then, sir?”

“A U.S. senator’s son might be missing in the area. He’s with Doctors Without Borders.”

“
Might
be missing?”

“He’s missed his check-in. I know the senator and he’s asked us to be on standby. Which means your leave is cancelled, since I need you to bring on a new team member and get them up to speed.”

She glanced at Blackwell. “But we’ve got four already.”

Blackwell’s lips compressed for a moment. “Sorry, Cat. I have personal business I have to attend to. I’m signing the team over to you. We’d like to eventually have you as a team leader, so this will be a good test.”

Warmth spread through her. The fact that Blackwell and Knight thought she could lead the team better than anyone else made her stand straighter.
 

“Of course, sir. Who’s the fourth member?” Even as she finished asking the question, she knew. Her stomach dropped and all the pride drained from her. She envisioned her hard-won career exploding like C-4 on a mud-hut wall.

Commander Knight answered, “Petty Officer Lafayette.” He handed her a file folder. “Here’s his information. I’m going to speak with him first, and then he’s all yours.”

There was nothing she could do but nod. “Very good, sir.”

After speaking with Commander Knight, Rhys made his way to the sixth floor via the circular interior stairs that led down into the operator’s lounge. The team leaders’ offices sat on the other end of the building, past the workout room and a couple of conference rooms. He’d just learned of his new assignment, to Alpha team. According to his briefing, they’d just come back from the Middle East and were now on standby for a new mission in West Africa.
 

A busy life without a lot of time for training. Not like in the SEAL teams, where you deployed for six months and then trained extensively for twelve to eighteen months before deploying again. It’s not like SEALs were home a lot, though. Like most spec ops warriors, their training took them all over the world.
 

But here at E.D.G.E., the operators fit in small bursts of training or re-qualifying between missions. It’s why they only took on the elite of the elite. In Commander Knight’s words, the operators had to know their shit before they got here. There was no time to play catch-up.
 

And that was just fine with him. He loved the adrenaline rush of missions. He knew he was dangerously close to becoming addicted, but he’d hidden that from his brothers-at-arms under his easygoing ‘Lucky’ persona.
 

He found the Alpha team’s office and knocked. At the muffled “come in,” he opened the door and came to attention, saluting sharply.

“At ease, Petty Officer,” the husky female voice said.
 

He snapped his gaze toward the woman sitting behind the wooden desk and almost groaned aloud. Cat was his superior officer?
 

Fuck.

She nodded at the seat across from her, her face calm and professional, no hint of softness anywhere. Just like he’d expect from his superior. Damn. He slid into the chair.
 

“You’re Alpha team leader, ma’am?” He had to be sure. Maybe it was a mistake.

She nodded and steel entered her voice. “You gonna have a problem with that, sailor?”

He shoved all images of her writhing naked beneath him into a box in his mind and locked it. Could he take orders from a woman? He never had before. She’d seemed competent enough the two times he’d worked with her, and she’d been cool and focused in the thick of it. As long as she was capable, then he could take her orders.
 

He hoped.

She still waited for his answer, her eyebrows drawing together.

“No, ma’am,” he said. He was so fucked.
 

She kept up her stare for another minute, as if daring him to bring up either that one glorious night, or the fact that she was a woman. He just stared back, game face on. He’d see how she did. He was totally capable of handling a woman if she got stressed or scared, though he had a feeling Cat would be tougher than most.
 

She nodded once and then opened a file on her desk. “I’ll keep this brief, since I know you’re more than qualified to be here. All E.D.G.E. operators are.” She flipped through a few pages. “What’s your specialty?”

“Specialty? I’m a SEAL, ma’am. We’re trained to do it all.”
 

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, but what are you the best at? What do you like most of all?”

“I love it all, ma’am. Hand-to-hand, weapons, sniper, you name it. I’m a Jack-of-all-trades.”

She studied him some more. “You realize that we are even more secretive than most special ops units. That only the highest branches of governments and the militaries we work for even know about us. And it has to stay that way.”

What was she getting at? “Like I told you before: I don’t tell my secrets.”

She raised one slender brow at that. “This is more than not telling anyone about the latest mission. This is about not telling anyone about your life. You will have a cover here that includes leaving the military.”

He nodded. “The commander said as much.”

She pressed her lips together, something he was beginning to recognize as the first pricking of her temper. “Let me say this a different way,
Lucky
. You won’t be able to pick up women by telling them you’re in the military.”

He scowled. Was she seriously going there? “Excuse me, ma’am. But my personal life is none of your concern.” He leaned back in his chair and put on a cocky smile. “I really won’t have a problem, though. I’ve never had to rely on it before. Most women jump me without me even having to say a word. In fact, one time, in an elevator right here at E.D.G.E.—”

“You’ve made your point, Lafayette.”

“Roger that, ma’am. Anything else?”

Her lips stayed pressed tightly together. “What about your friends and family? Can you live with them thinking you’re no longer a vaunted SEAL?”

“Wow,” he drawled sarcastically. “You really have a low estimation of my character.”

“These are standard questions.”

“Are they now?” Before she could say anything more, he answered her first question. “My friends know not to ask questions of my work.”

“Meaning they’re all SEALs.”

He gave a sharp nod, feeling somehow not up to par because he didn’t have friends in the civilian world. But who had time for that in their lifestyle?

“And your family?”

He grit his teeth. “If you’d bothered to read that file in front of you, you would have seen that I have no family.”

She had the grace to look embarrassed. She closed the file. “I’m sorry,” she said. “There’s no excuse.”

The softly spoken apology made up for whatever criticism she had directed at him. “It’s fine.”

“Good. We’re on call for a mission in West Africa. Introduce yourself to the rest of Alpha team and get settled in today. IT will need to see you as well. Briefing at 0500 tomorrow.”
 

“Yes, ma’am.” He stood.
 

She leaned back in the chair and sighed. “We’re not so formal here, Lucky. Lose the ma’am.”

“Yes, ma-” He raised his eyebrows, waiting.

“The team calls me Valkyrie.”
 

He couldn’t help his grin widening. “I remember. It suits you.”

“A senator’s son has gone missing,” Blackwell told Cat and her team the next morning. “His father has asked us to find him and bring him home.”

Blackwell tapped some buttons and the virtual monitor appeared on the plexi-wall behind him, made for that purpose. He stood and pulled on a special glove with nano-circuitry that allowed him to flick through the files of the computer as if he touched the virtual screen. Soon a map appeared. He made an expanding motion with his hand and the map zoomed in.

Nigeria.

“Senator Warren Hutchins’s son is a doctor who went to Nigeria with Doctors Without Borders. He’s been there for three months. Last week, he traveled to a small village south of Hadejia with another man, Dr. Samuel Botman.” With a flick of his fingers, Blackwell brought up two photos—one of a smiling man in his mid-twenties with long hair pulled back in a ponytail, and the other of an older gentleman with a graying close-clipped beard.
 

“Neither of them returned,” he continued. “I don’t need to remind any of you that Northeastern Nigeria is Boko Haram’s territory. I’ve had IT scour the Black Net for any new uploaded videos, but they’ve come up empty. If the Boko Haram have them then they’re not saying.”

Doc leaned his large frame back in the chair. “Could these guys just be lost?”

Blackwell sighed. “It’s a possibility, and the best one we’ve got at the moment. Either way, you’ll insert with a HAHO night jump from a C-130 Hercules at thirty thousand feet. You’ll have forty kilometers to navigate to get to the village. An intelligence asset will make contact south of the village. This is a fact-finding mission, but if you get an actual lead on the young doctor then grab him if you can.”

“Roger that, sir,” Cat said.

“Further details are in the brief.”

She frowned. “What do we know of the asset? Are they one of ours?”

Blackwell shook his head. “CIA’s.”

“So that means they’re only trustworthy until the money runs out,” Marc said cynically.

Blackwell looked at Cat. “You up for this?”

“Of course, sir.” As if she would say anything else. “But like Marc, I’ve always got reservations about an unknown asset.”

“Don’t we all. Keep your eyes sharp over there,” Blackwell said. “The rest of the info is in the brief. Wheels up in four hours.”

They filed out and headed for the locker room where they began kitting up-double checking their weapons, ammo, rucksacks, and parachutes.

Everything needed to be meticulously packed and the weight evenly distributed. With a high-altitude, high-opening jump, each member of the team needed to weigh the same. This meant Cat had to carry more weight than Zach, who outweighed her by at least fifty pounds. She considered HAHO jumps to be the most exhilarating, but they were also damned uncomfortable.

Three hours and forty-five minutes later, Cat waited on the roof for her team to arrive. The high walls hid the two CH-146 Griffon helicopters from the sight of other buildings. Their pilot already waited in the bird with most of their gear, and would take them to the jet that would fly them the rest of the way.
 

Marc and Zach nodded at her as they came up onto the roof. They both wore their BDUs like she did and had their FN SCAR rifles packed in special carry cases slung over their shoulders. The sight of them would make any civilian in downtown Montreal pause, which was why all of their equipment was kept onsite and out of view.
 

Now, Rhys followed Zach and Marc. He grinned as he passed her. “Valkyrie.”

Why when he said her call sign did it sound like a term of endearment from one lover to another? The last thing she needed was for him to see her that way. Today she would begin to prove to him that she was more than capable of leading this team. It was also time to see whether he had what it took to work with Alpha team.
 

 
She climbed aboard the Griffon and gave the pilot the all-clear. Within moments they lifted off, having already gained clearance from Montreal air traffic control.
 

“Did you read the brief on the asset?” she asked Marc once they’d all donned their ear protection and mics.

“Yes,” Marc said. “He seems legit, but there’re too many variables.”

“Where’s the fun in knowing everything, eh, Spooky?” she said, and couldn’t stop her grin.

“Fuck, you know I hate that name.”

“We know it,” she and Zach said together.

“CIA?” Rhys asked him.

If anything, Koven’s scowl deepened. “CSIS,” he said, naming the Canadian spy agency.
 

Rhys nodded and looked to Zach. “Doc. So you’re a medic?”

“Well, he’s not a dwarf,” Cat said.
 

Zach laughed and stretched his six-foot frame. “18-Delta.” It was all Zach needed to say. 18-Delta was the forty-six-week Special Operations Combat Medic course that said he was the best of the best.
 

“But that’s not the real reason we call him that,” Cat said.

Rhys looked at her. She shrugged. “Zach takes care of everyone.”

“Whether they want him to or not,” Marc muttered.

“So says our resident cynic,” Cat said.

“Better cynic than a fucking optimist.”

“Children, please,” Zach said. “Not in front of the FNG.”
 

Rhys snorted. “I haven’t been called the fucking new guy in years.”

“Then tell me,” Zach said, “why do they call you Lucky?”

Rhys shrugged and leaned back. “I had a close call at BUD/S. The petty officer in charge said I was the luckiest sonuvabitch he’d met.”
 

“Huh,” Marc said. “I would have thought it was for other reasons.”

Cat tried to pretend she wasn’t listening to every word, but Rhys caught her gaze when he answered, his Louisiana drawl deepening. “Well, others have thought the same for some reason. And I confess, I do have other skills…like I’m a badass poker player.”

Zach laughed while Cat busied herself checking her gear. No matter what he said, Rhys ‘Lucky’ Lafayette had player written all over him.
 

The guys began chatting and getting to know each other, but Cat withdrew from the conversation. Time to focus on the mission. She pulled out her maps to study while they flew.

Cat and the rest of her team slept as much as they could on the way to the staging area at a Niger airbase friendly to the West. Once they were downrange, sleep and food were luxuries that weren’t always possible.
 

Many hours later, after a jet and a stop in Germany to switch to a C-160 Transall transport plane, the team finally landed at the Niger airbase where they switched to a C-130 Hercules.