Nightstalker: Red Team book 1 Read online

  This was happening, and it was happening in front of the new asshole. Fuck me!

  Z set a tumbler full of amber liquid down in front of me. I knew it was Knob Creek; it was from Z’s personal stash. He kept the good shit for clients; expensive bottles of Lagavulin 21 Scotch and KORS vodka. Z always joked that he could not shed his poor “redneck” tastes and stomach drinking something that was the equivalent to a private’s monthly salary. I slowly lifted the glass to my lips and savored the burn as I emptied the glass in one gulp. With all the strength I could muster I tried to fortify myself against the onslaught of painful memories. I looked at my team; Eric, Drew, Leo, Jaxon, Colin and now Lincoln Parker, AKA Mr. DDG, and what I saw on their faces made me want to rage and throw shit. Pity! Fucking pity.

  I am God damn Jasmin Smith, I do not do pity! Pity is for the weak minded, the meek. Bitches who want to play damsel in distress and have someone swoop in and save the day. Fuck that shit!

  Chapter Four

  Lincoln

  Fuck, Jasmin was killing me. She was trying to put on a strong front but the look of fear in her beautiful hazel eyes was stirring every protective instinct I had.

  She was every bit as beautiful as I remembered. Damn, this woman was seriously sexy. I was having a hard time willing my dick to stay soft. I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and take her to my new office. We could christen my new desk. Shit, I’d be happy just slamming that tight as hell body up against the office wall as I fucked that fear right out of her beautiful eyes. Somehow I knew this female would kick me in my balls if I tried to pull any of my normal alpha male bullshit, but damn I wanted to fuck her. And, at the same time, protect her from all the memories that made her eyes look so sad.

  “So, Red Wing, why don’t you tell us what you were doing at The Black Dolphin?” Drew had obviously assigned himself Jasmin’s protector. Fuck that, Jasmin did not need protection from me.

  I shot a look at Zane silently asking him for permission, at the nod of his head I began. “I was on assignment with the CIA in the gulf following a lead on some of the women that were in transport when I was pulled off the case and sent to The Dolphin. Two CIA agents had been captured and were transported to the prison.”

  I stopped to look at Eric, he was about to get thrown under the bus and I was going to be the driver that rolled over him. He did not look happy about his past being brought before the team. “My assignment was twofold; go in deep cover as a guard to help the agent already in place weed out the DEA agent’s contact and assist in the escape of the captured agents. My handler was getting mixed intel that the other agent’s cover was about to get burned.”

  “Bullshit!” Eric was getting ready for a battle; the poor bastard still could not let it go. Not that I blamed him. He got fucked.

  “Really, Red Wolf, than why don’t you tell me what I was doing there if not to assist.” Screw this asshole, I saved his fucking life and this was the shit he wanted to shovel.

  All eyes in the room laser focused on Eric. Jasmin looked pissed. Actually, she looked more than pissed. She was exasperated, her brow pinched in angry concentration.

  “What in the mother fuck is he talking about? Z? Eric? What the hell?” Jasmin stood up again and started to pace, obviously trying to puzzle out what I was talking about and how this applied to her.

  Eric looked at Jasmin, then down at the table. “I was undercover in the prison, close to finding the contact’s name when I got word we had two Americans coming into the vault. I made the call to Mr. Blue…” Eric stopped and took a deep breath, “I fucked up, a guard heard me speaking in English.” Eric rubbed the back of his neck, struggling to get the rest out. I doubted he had ever shared this story with the team.

  I watched Jasmin pace the floor and touch the scar on her upper right arm. I wondered if she even realized she was doing it. With each pass she made I became more and more hypnotized by the sway of her hips. Her ass encased in that denim looked like it was begging for me to rip it off her. She was so fucking hot. Like Zena the warrior princess, long dark brown hair; it reminded me of a perfectly aged whiskey. Her feminine little body had curves in all the right places and that gun strapped to her hip… God damn, it does not get any sexier than Jasmin Smith.

  “FUUUCK,” Eric roared snapping my attention back to him.

  “Man, you do not have to continue, Eric,” Jaxon spoke up.

  “We can do this later…” Colin started, but before he could finish what he was going to say, Zane stopped him with a hand.

  “Eric, you have to know you did everything you could. Even after your cover was blown,” Zane’s voice had softened; I had never heard LT speak to anyone in that tone.

  By the looks on their faces, the rest of the team must have felt the same way. They looked just as surprised as I was.

  “Eric. Man, you have to know we all have your back, brother. We know you did all you could for Jasmin and LT,” Leo said.

  A soft whimpering sound caught my attention. Jasmin had her hand over her mouth and pure terror on her face. Drew jumped out of his seat and made his way to her side, wrapping an arm around her. Mother fucker, the sight of Drew’s arm around her made me want to break the fucker off. She shrugged his arm off and walked back to the table.

  She was back to being angry, “Someone better start explaining and fast. I am losing patience. I only have bits and pieces of memories after we were captured. What the fuck does Eric have to do with me and Zane?” Jasmin’s eyes darted around the room in censure.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Christ.” Those were all the words Zane had, apparently. His vocabulary was reduced to curse words.

  Eric started again, “Jasmin, as soon as I got word they were bringing Americans to the prison I called it in to my handler. But by the time I knew, shit, you and Zane were only three hours out. The vault was already being prepared for your arrival. I got in a hurry and spoke English in a non-secured area. I only had a few minutes. I had to get back up there fast and I fucked up. I have no excuse. It was careless. It is my fault you and Zane…” Eric was cut off by a glass shattering against the wall.

  “Not one God damned thing that happened to either Jas or I is your fucking fault!” Zane exploded. His face red and his hands balled into tight fists.

  Jasmin didn’t react to Zane’s outburst. She zeroed in on Eric. She looked stunned, “You were there?”

  “Yes working undercover with the CIA. Once my cover was blown I was taken to the vault and dealt with,” Eric answered hanging his head low, his eyes on the table.

  “Don’t do that! Don’t you hide your face from me. Tell me what you know! Tell me why I can’t remember!” Jasmin pushed Eric for more answers.

  “Fuck, Jas. By the time you and Zane arrived they had already had two or three goes at me trying to break me and find out who I worked for. I was so fucking out of it I didn’t know where I was.” Eric tried to placate her.

  Jasmin wheeled to me, “And you! What do you have to do with Zane and I being captured?”

  “Back up.” This was going downhill fast. Jasmin was asking questions I did not want to answer.

  “I see we’re back to bullshit answers. Once again you care to elaborate on what ‘back up’ means exactly?” Jasmin pushed.

  “No.” I was going to keep it short and sweet.

  “No? Un-fucking-real.” Jasmin was definitely at the end of her rope.

  “Why don’t we all just break for the night? It is damn near zero two hundred. We obviously are not going to finish the Deepweb336 case tonight. We can go over it in the morning, everyone back here at ten hundred.” Zane was trying to defuse the hostility building in the room. More specifically the rising hostility that was rolling off Jasmin, all of which was directed at me.

  “Copy that.” Jax was the first to stand. He kissed Jasmin on the forehead and was headed towards the door when he turned to me, “Linc, glad to have you on the team.”

  “Thanks, Jax.” I made my way to him to shake his hand before I could ext
end my hand, he slapped my shoulder. I tried to hide my wince as his hand made contact with a freshly stitched bullet wound. Damn that hurt like a son of a bitch.

  “Welcome home, brother, long time,” Leo said before shaking my hand. Damn I missed him.

  “Thanks man, two fuckin’ years long. We’ll catch up soon, yeah?” I asked pulling him in for a quick embrace.

  “Hell yeah!” He lowered his voice, and continued, “One thing, Linc. All due respect, you’d better tread real careful where Jasmin is concerned. You eye fucking her did not go unnoticed. It also did not escape anyone’s attention she was returning the favor. Handle that shit with care.” His suggestion pissed me right the fuck off. I was not one to be told what to do. With anything.

  “You tellin’ me how to handle my business?”

  “Never that, but every single man in this room has that woman’s six, and they will get in her business,” he warned.

  “Noted. Thanks brother. All that shit will be handled in due time.” There was no need to elaborate any further. Leo understood exactly what I meant.

  The rest of the team said their goodbyes and hugged Jasmin as they made their way out of the conference room. It took every bit of my control not to beat the shit out of my new team for touching her. I heard her sweet voice down the hall yelling for someone to wait up. I strained to hear who she was talking to but she was too far away.

  Zane flipped the switch on the wall, opening the blinds. Once again, the city lights shone into the room, reminding me I was back on American soil after two years in hell. Two fucking years in filth and waste, just praying I’d make it out to breathe clean again. Two years lost, two years to make up for.

  “Let’s go to my office. You need a drink.” Zane pulled me from my thoughts.

  “Abso-fuckin-lutely.” I picked up my pack and threw it over my good shoulder, following him down the hall to his office.

  As we walked down the main corridor I scanned the large office space, and, not for the first time, I thought how proud I was of my older brother. We walked up a flight of stairs to the loft area where Zane’s office, sat high above the main floor. I walked over to the glass wall that allowed Zane to oversee the battalion of commandos he employed. Down below there were several doors open to private offices and a large command room enclosed in smart glass. This room housed all the surveillance monitors and was supervised 24/7. In the middle was a maze of cubicles with high tech work stations. Zane had spared no expense. All clean lines with grey walls and chrome accents. Not bad for a boy who grew up in a trailer park in the back woods of West Virginia.

  Zane walked directly to the liquor cabinet, pulled out a bottle of whiskey and held it out for me to inspect.

  “This ok?” he asked.

  I couldn’t help but laugh. He was a multi-millionaire who owned his own jet, for shit sakes, but he pulled out another bottle of cheap ass Knob Creek.

  “You know me brother. I am just a simple country boy. Cheap whiskey, fast women, and American made pick-up trucks,” I replied in a thick West Virginia accent.

  Zane pour two glasses and walked to the sitting area of his office. He motioned me to follow and sat down. I carefully slid my pack off and joined him.

  “How’s your shoulder? Blue called and said it was a through and through. Just a little patch job,” Zane inquired.

  He didn’t need too, I knew he already had all the information. Hell he probably already had my medical records. My brother is such a control freak I sometimes wondered if the CIA actually let him plan my missions.

  “I’ll live. How’s business?” I tried to deflect, moving the conversation around to him.

  “Fuck, man, I have more cases then I know what to do with. I am thinking about bringing in another team, but it is damn hard pulling in six new men.” Zane answered thoughtfully.

  “Or women…” I shot back with a wink.

  “Jasmin Smith is an anomaly. She is the only woman I have ever met that can handle herself in combat and outperform most men in the company. Hell, you know she saved my ass in Russia. Jasmin has earned her place on this team. Never underestimate that woman. She is smart as shit and as tough as any man I ever served with in the teams. She will slice your dick off with a sweet sexy smile still on her face. You need to handle her with care.” Well, that sounded like a warning if I ever heard one.

  “Speaking of which, how do you want to handle the Black Dolphin issue?” I asked. It was his team and ultimately his call.

  “We hold off as long as we can. I will not flat out lie to her, but I will put her on ice as long as I can. I told you, she is smart as hell. She will not be put off for long. I would not be surprised if she is already pestering the hell out of Eric. I am already worried about him. He puts on this joker of the team front, but he is still hurting. He bears scars for me and for Jasmin. Something he does not want to her to know, by the way,” Zane responded. He looked as tired as I felt.

  “I hear that. We all have memories that are better left buried.” I set my empty glass on the glass table in front of me.

  “Some more than others.” I heard Zane mutter under his breath. I knew my brother had a thick layer of scar tissue built up around him like a fortress. No one walks away from what he has done unscathed.

  “I’m gonna bounce, big brother. I haven’t slept much in the last seventy two hours. Thanks for… well, everything.” I stood and grabbed my pack. Zane did the same to walk me to the door.

  “One more thing before I go. I was thinking about Deepweb336. The Russians are too obvious. I have a bad feeling we are being led around by our dicks with this one. It is too much of a coincidence that the Russians were freed from the Black Dolphin and two weeks later they are in on a CIA hack. Something smells like shit with that.” I had been thinking over this case on my long ten hour flight home from Russia.

  “Shit, I don’t believe in coincidences, and I don’t trust those spooks. They’ll screw you to save their own asses. I am pleased as fuck you are out.” The look of relief was obvious on Zane’s face.

  “Copy that! I am outta here; get some rest big brother. You look like hell.” I joked as I made my way out the door. Zane flipped me the finger for my efforts.

  “Welcome home.” Zane always had to get in the last word.

  I chuckled, and with a hand over my shoulder I waved and made my way to the double doors in the main office.

  I stopped at the biometric scanner, placing four fingers on the screen. When the high tech lock beeped, telling me it had accepted my finger print scan, I entered in my eight digit code. The door’s lock opened with a click and I exited into the hallway. Once again I stopped to engage another security effort and placed my face inches away from the retinal scanner to gain access to the elevator. Damn, Zane is an overzealous security freak. I knew I would have to engage one more biometric finger print scanner once I exited off the elevator down stairs to enter the back room of Z Corp’s public reception area. No one gained access to the inner sanctum of headquarters without an escort through the secured areas.

  Damn I just want to get home, have a cold beer, and get some rest. If I was lucky I might get a few hours of sleep before I had to come back for Deepweb336 briefing. Something was not sitting right with me about the Russian’s involvement, it was just too convenient. My gut was screaming “Set up!”

  ***

  After driving around the city trying to clear my head, exhaustion won out over the excitement of being back stateside. I pulled into the driveway of my new home and found a kick ass Honda CBR1000 Superbike, matte black with a kick ass red pin stripe graphics kit, parked in front of the house. Damn I forgot to ask Zane who lived on the other side of the old Victorian duplex he owns. I pulled my bike up next to my new neighbor’s and parked. Hopefully he’d be a cool cat and we could go riding together sometime. Rolling my sore shoulder, I fixed my pack and headed towards the house. I fumbled with the old lock of my front door when I heard a faint footstep. I stopped, standing stock still, and listened.
I silently slid my right hand to my holster, palming my sidearm. I heard the noise again, only closer this time, in one smooth fluid movement I slide my HK45 out of its holster. With practiced ease my thumb pressed the safety off and I turned, leveling my HK ready to take out whatever crazy fuck was trying to sneak up behind me. At the exact moment my HK pressed into the fucker’s face I had a Sig shoved in mine.

  “Make one more move mother fucker and I will shoot your ass and burn your body! What the fuck are you doing on my porch?” I heard the sexiest voice I have ever heard growl. Fuck me, she was turning me on while she had a gun to my head. This might not have been the best time to get a hard on, but damn, the woman was fine as hell.

  “God damn, woman you are sexy as shit when you are handling that piece.” That evidently was not the right answer. The gun was lowered, and the round kick to the back of my knee made me stumble forward in an effort to regain my balance. Not a particularly imaginative maneuver and something that would not have been successful had all my blood not been rushing to my dick.

  “You must be shit dumb! What in the ever loving fuck are you doing lurking around my house in the middle of the night? You lookin’ to get a bullet in your other shoulder? You want a matching set? I’d be happy to oblige.” Jasmin was spitting mad. Damn.

  “Anyone ever tell you that you cuss a lot? Shit, woman you say “fuck” more than most the men I was in combat with.” I knew I should just stop now and explain why I was on the porch, but for some perverse reason I could not stop pissing her off. I liked the fire she got in her eyes when she was ready to do battle.

  I looked Jasmin over from her crazy ass messy bun that held her silky whiskey colored hair haphazardly on her head, down to a white cotton wife beater tank top. Down further to the pair of men’s boxers she had rolled over at the waist making them sit low on her tiny hips. Hot damn!

  “Eyes up here, fucker! As for my vocabulary, if you don’t fucking like it, eat shit. Now I know you have a hard time answering direct questions in English, perhaps a different language would suit you better. Unfortunately for you I am too tired to fuck around trying to find one. What are you doing on my porch?” She said through gritted teeth. The girl was going to need a dentist by the time we were done the way she was grinding her teeth.