FIVE

JOHN STARED OUT INTO the Colorado mountains from the cabin Jordan rented for the

time the team would be in Aspen. A frown pulled at his brows as the rest of the men

began to gather in the room behind him, their images wavering in the glass of the

window.

Jordan had arrived earlier and set up a situation room of sorts. There was plenty

of hot coffee, computers along one wall displaying a multitude of images, and

several communication bases staffed by the redheaded spitfire Jordan had brought

in just after the inception of the Elite Operations Unit.

Tehya Talamosi Fitzhugh was the daughter of a white slaver whom Ian Richards,

and the SEALs he’d worked with at the time, had brought down. She’d spent her

life running from the Fitzhughs and once that was over, she had been unwilling to

step into any life other than the one she had learned how to live within. One of

danger.

“I’m going to assume last night went about as well as you expected it to,”

Jordan announced as the rest of the team gathered around the large table set up in

the room.

John turned away from the vista spread out beyond the cabin and faced a room

filled with dead men. Noah Blake had once been known as Navy SEAL Nathan

Malone. Then there was Travis Caine, a former MI-6 agent; Nik Steele, a former

Russian intelligence officer; Micah Sloane, Bailey’s cousin and former Israeli

Mossad agent; and Jordan Malone, Noah’s uncle and the commander who had

fought to keep five dead men from living again. He had a hell of a job cut out for

him, as two of them had already reclaimed parts of their lives.

“She’s uncertain and angry.” He shrugged addressing the question. “We

expected that.”

“Then find a way to work around it,” Jordan ordered him. “We received word

last night that Warbucks is getting ready to move on his next acquisition. We can’t

afford to let that sale go through.”

“We’re certain he’s here?” Nik leaned forward, staring at Jordan intently.

“There’s no sense in drawing her into this and endangering her further if we’re not

certain.”

Jordan stared back at the six-foot-five-inch Russian coolly.

“Would we be here if I weren’t certain?” he asked.

Nik shrugged. “Knowing you, Commander, one can never be certain.”

There were a few chuckles from the other men, especially Noah Blake. They all

knew Jordan. He was sharp as hell and one of the best commanders John had ever

worked with, but he was a bit prone to go with his gut rather than proof. Not that

his gut had been wrong yet, but there was always a first time.

“You’ve read the same reports I have,” Jordan finally grunted. “Code-named

Warbucks, this individual or group of individuals is acquiring top-secret

information and hardware and billions in sales on the black market. There’s rumor

that Warbucks has acquired this.” Jordan turned to the large monitor on the wall.

The black screen flickered to show an image of a soldier holding a shouldermounted missile launcher. When he fired, they watched as the missile exploded

from the barrel. Within seconds it took out a military drone flying above the

accepted limit for commercial airliners.

“Code-named CROSSFIRE, the military’s new toy has exceptional speed and

reach,” Jordan informed them. “But it has even more. It can be programmed to a

specific aircraft either using a stealth transmitter that can be attached to the hull of

the aircraft, or using the airplane’s electronics themselves. CROSSFIRE can be

programmed to the transmitter, fired in Colorado, and take out an aircraft in the air

or on the ground in Washington, DC. It can’t be tracked by conventional radar, and

its stealth capabilities are exceptional. It’s easily transported, hidden, and

completely undetectable. Last week a launcher and six missiles were stolen from a

military depot in DC. Two days later John Vincent’s handler”—Jordan glanced to

Tehya—“received a message that Mr. Vincent’s services were being considered for

a unique sale. We suspect that sale is CROSSFIRE.”

“Several other messages went out to Libya, Syria, Iran, China, and Africa that

CROSSFIRE had been acquired and bids would be taken,” John informed them.

“One of the messages was received by a suspected general with al-Qaeda and

money began shifting through several different accounts associated with the

organization.

“In three weeks the president is scheduled to arrive in Saudi Arabia to meet with

several dignitaries, princes and Middle Eastern factions in secret talks aimed at

drawing support for a new proposal for a truce in armed areas. This new plan has

drawn support from some surprising factions. It could actually begin an initiative

that could signal a turn in the tide of terrorism in the Middle East.”

Micah Sloane, the former Mossad agent, got to his feet at that point. “This new

peace plan has Jordanian, Israeli, and Iranian consideration so far. The talks are

remaining highly secret until the meeting in Saudi, where all the area’s leaders will

gather. Several terrorist organizations have already learned of the meeting and have

been planning ways to potentially sabotage it. This weapon is all they need.”

“The planes will be checked for transmitters before lift-off,” Travis Caine

interjected. “How much success could they have?”

“The missiles can be programmed to individual aircraft signatures,” Jordan

answered him. “It can also be armed with a nuclear warhead large enough to take

out the meeting area and anyone in it.” He stared around the room as tension began

to thicken. “We have three weeks to identify Warbucks and find the location of the

missiles and launcher,” he warned them. “John Vincent is being tapped to broker

the sale.” He looked to John. “Our hard work in all your covers and our previous

operations is finally paying off. Vincent as the broker, Caine his bodyguard. Nik

our Russian terrorist will be in place at the ski resort for bidding. Micah is our

Palestinian terrorist Jerric Abbas. Noah will be here at the cabin with me to provide

backup and logistical support.”

John lifted his gaze back to the file footage playing on the wide screen and

watched once again as the missile struck the drone plane. The warhead that could

be attached to the missile wouldn’t be large, but it was big enough. Big enough

that it could take out the heads of more than half the Middle Eastern countries

without a problem, and they had only three weeks to stop it.

“Bailey is an important part of this operation why?” Caine asked. “A

disenchanted CIA agent?”

“Much more than that actually,” Jordan answered. “Warbucks will choose his

broker based on Bailey Serborne’s approval of him. She’s in whether we like it or

not.”

“How do we know this?” John could feel the almost violent sense of

protectiveness rising within him. This was new information, and it was information

he didn’t like.

“This is via Warbucks’s contact,” Teyha informed him. “The call I received was

quite specific. Miss Serbourne will choose the broker. Every broker contacted

received the same message. This is now our best chance of identifying him.”

Warbucks’s connections and the information and hardware he was getting his

hands on was beginning to concern not just the United States but also allied

nations. The power behind Warbucks had already shown itself in previous sales.

The theft of the items, their movements, and their subsequent sales over the years

had led back to connections to six families. Families with enough power around

the world to bring down any law enforcement agency that came after them. But

even more, there was enough power that each investigation into Warbucks’s

activities had been betrayed and/or stopped in its tracks.

High-ranking political officials had died searching for answers, as had agents,

investigators, and bureau directors of more than one law enforcement agency across

the globe.

That kind of power could eventually result in complete global warfare or

financial meltdown if it wasn’t stopped.

“Bailey has connections into each of the six families,” John continued. “And we

know for a fact that she’s running her own op into Warbucks. Her years at the CIA

were peppered with various searches into each sale Warbucks made. We also have a

file taken from Orion the night he was killed. That file included her picture and

copies of e-mails sent to the assassin each time it was suspected he would cross her

path. He was paid well to make certain he skirted around her rather than killing her.

She had a no-kill order attached to her name that went out to not just Orion, but

also several terrorist organizations. Warbucks is drawing her in. She knows it, and

now we know it.”

“She could be involved,” Nik injected.

Jordan shook his head. “The families she’s tied to are the connection. The

Serborne fortune goes to charity, billions and billions of dollars if Bailey Serborne

dies without an heir. That’s the key to her good health and welfare to this point.

She has no heir. That fortune is still up in the air, as well as the power that backs it.

Until there’s a way to claim it, Warbucks will not allow her to die. Instead, its been

determined that he’s going to partner with her, or develop a relationship with her

instead.”

The monitor changed from the missile firing to a dozen pictures of the reigning

patriarchs of each family Bailey was connected to.

“You’ll receive files on each family,” Jordan informed them. “But of the twelve,

we’ve narrowed down what’s considered the four most likely, and we believe

Bailey has narrowed that number down even farther. Read over your files, acquaint

yourself with each family and their ties and connections into the Mideast deal

coming up as well as their oppositions to it.”

“And if you can’t seduce Miss Serborne into helping you?” Travis Caine arched

a blond brow as he stared back at John. “Just because she was enamored of Trent

Daylen five years ago doesn’t mean she’s going to fall into John Vincent’s arms

now.”

John scowled back at him. “She’ll do her part. She wants this as bad as we do.

One of the men on your list is Ford Grace, the man she suspects played a part in not

just her parents’ deaths but also a childhood friend’s some years before. Bailey

wants vengeance. She missed out on Orion, so she’s now returning to the source.”

She had let them have Orion, hoping that when she returned to her former life

and her place in society, no one would give it a second look. That she could find

her own justice, in her own way. She had been drawing Warbucks in, waiting for

this chance.

The satisfaction for her would have been much more profound. However, there

was no way Bailey could have possibly been aware of the extent of Warbucks’s

crimes or power. She was after the man who hired a killer, not an international

terrorist.

“How much information are we giving her?” Noah asked, his blue eyes

concerned as he watched John.

“Everything.” John glared back at Jordan, very well aware that his commander

was opposed to that. “She won’t be aware of anyone involved but myself and

Travis, but she’ll be aware of the operation as well as the implications of failure.”

The others nodded, though Jordan continued to stare back at him coldly. John

wasn’t always in agreement with his commander’s tactics. Jordan liked to keep his

secrets, and he liked to keep knowledge of the unit completely hidden.

He was still pissed that Noah’s and Micah’s wives were aware of not just the unit

but also its operatives. He considered each one of them weaknesses. Which, in all

likelihood, they were. But John often wondered if that wasn’t what made both

Noah and Micah as efficient as they were. They had a reason to return from a

mission, a reason the rest of them didn’t have or had lost.

“We have Ian and Kira as backup as well as Kell Krieger and Macey March,”

Jordan informed them. “Ian and Kira are playing within the upper crust of the rich

and famous while Kell and Macey are working within the security details of two of

the families. I’ll make certain you get reports as information comes in.”

“Travis and I have checked in to one of the hotels in Aspen,” John told them.

“We’ll be moving into Bailey’s mansion within the week.”

“Confident bastard, isn’t he?” Nik grunted, bringing a round of chuckles from

the other men.

“Convinced,” John informed them all coolly.

He knew Bailey, he knew the desire was still there, just as strong and just as hot

as it had ever been. It hadn’t gone away any more than his need for her had gone

away.

It had begun five years before, only months before his “death.” When he had

met Bailey on a joint US–Australian operation. He’d commanded the small team

searching for pirates, and Bailey had been the CIA’s agent in charge. They’d struck

sparks from the first second, and within days those sparks had grown to full-blown

lust.

They’d had one night. One night that he had never forgotten, never gotten out

of his mind. A night that haunted him until he wondered if it would eventually

steal his sanity.

Seeing her in Atlanta had nearly destroyed him; letting her go had torn his heart

out. He hadn’t told her in Australia what she meant to him—that he’d seen the end

of his bachelor days in her eyes. And then fate had taken the choice from him. Trent

Daylen had died and John Vincent had been created from the ashes. And John

Vincent had no right to Bailey Serborne.

Fuck.

He clenched his fists and moved from the table once more as the other men read

over their files and discussed various aspects of the operation as it stood.

Everything hinged on Bailey and her decision to accept him as her lover. She

wasn’t an agent who would sleep with any man for a mission. She might pretend to,

and she could be a damned good actress. But John didn’t want an act, he wanted

the woman. Just one more time. Just a few nights to store inside his soul and hold

him over in the bleak, lonely days to come.

She was like a ray of sunshine that he hadn’t known he’d missed until Atlanta.

Until he had looked up and seen her haunted green eyes, her hollow expression as

she watched Micah and Risa leave their apartment building.

He’d known why she was there. The assassin Orion had been hired to kill Risa,

an assassin suspected to have been involved in her parents’ deaths, and proven to

have been involved in her cousin’s death in Israel. She’d lost everyone in her life,

and she had hungered for vengeance, for absolution. It had been a hunger he’d had

to deny her.