La Coraggio was packed, Max and Johnny sandwiched Abby on the bench. Max pulled a dollar bill out of his wallet and folded it into a sword shape as Lizzy chattered away on the other side of him. Abby had initially sensed his impatience with her bubbly friend when they’d first met, but Max now saw the girl beneath. Intelligent, kind and courageous.
His mouth turned up as Lizzy made a silly joke, but Abby was thoroughly absorbed in his sexy hands folding with confident precision. His long fingers so capable. Capable enough to take away life or to protect it. Well-trained hands decorated with a few rough calluses and light scars. Feeling them run down her back or stroke her arm always resulted in goose bumps.
Max stroked her calf with his foot; who knew that the game of footsy could be so damn sexy? The small paper dagger was waved in front of Lizzy, who snatched it up. He needed to smile more often. He had the sexiest smile, and combined with those piercing eyes, the r
Max let the blowhard get to him. He paced the small unisex bathroom as the door swung open.“Is Slater watching the girls?” he asked Johnny.“Yep. He’s at table seven. What the fuck, bro? Muller is wasted, you know better than to engage.”“Not a word. Not a goddam word,” Max said.Johnny looked at him like he was a stranger and not a brother on his team. Max knew why—he was always as cool as a cucumber yet some snotty game ranger tipped his lid off. Usually he psychologically controlled every room, but sadly not today. He pulled apart the last fifteen minutes, trying to find the trigger point.He was comfortable with who he was, the origami was a quirk and he didn’t give a fuck about the ranger trying to poke fun. Max could easily kick his ass. Muller couldn’t dream up the shit that Max had seen and done. There was no need for a pissing contest. This was about Abby. Muller wanted her. It w
Back at base with Abby locked in for the night, Max gazed at the monitoring station, recalling the girls’ conversation. It maddened him that there were fucking monsters out there who inflicted such lasting damage on women. At the same time, seeing his tough woman comforting her friend filled him with pride. Despite Abby’s last words to him, she felt like his woman. What an effing screwup the night had been. First dealing with Kris “the dick” Muller and then discovering that Johnny was also emotionally invested in an asset. His team was falling apart, and Max was the rebellious leader doing the damage along the way. The sooner they wrapped up the assignment, the better, then hopefully they could screw the brains out of their chosen women without having to deal with the guilt. Abby wandered out to sit on her patio in the dark, and there was too much physical space between them. He was always watching. Max was so tired of the watching. He wanted to be touching, always t
Max gazed at her delicate profile as she played with the corner of the pillow. He could watch her for days. Hell. He had been watching her for days. He would never get tired of it. Her fine skin was slightly flushed from the shower. Damp tendrils fell from a messy bun, clinging to her lovely neck. Hunger surged as he imagined running his lips over her warm skin. Nibbling that perfect earlobe as he buried himself inside her.“Not to mention his ridiculous T-shirt,” Abby said.What were they talking about? Right, Muller the douche.
A flushing toilet jarred him awake. The faucet ran and then Abby made her way back to bed in the dawning light. Max pulled her close, warming her chilled limbs.“It’s cold out there,” Abby said, burrowing under the covers. “If you need to pee, I suggest you hold it until the sun comes up.”“I’m perfect just where I am, spooning your pretty ass.”Abby snuggled in deeper, doing naughty things to his dick but he sobered quickly when his thumb ran over the scarred ridges branding her back.“You can talk about it and I won’t splinter into a million pieces. I’ve lived with that scar for the past three years. It’s been part of my therapy and it’s now part of my soul.”“Knowing what he did fucks with my head, I can’t imagine how you feel,” Max said.“It doesn’t matter how I feel. It’s not going anywhere; the damage is permanent. I&
The following afternoon, Abby stepped back from the painting, pleased with her progress. So what if she’d been moping for the past twenty-four hours. At least she had an outlet for the heartache. The canvas was the best cure for despondency. Slapping paint onto a white surface was uniquely satisfying, giving her time to think. Shame pecked at her conscience when she thought back to the harsh words spoken in her epic moment of panic. An apology was needed. Could you buy a man flowers? That might not go down so well in the alpha dojo across the street. Doubtful that they even owned a vase. Pride kept her anchored to the easel. Maybe sh
Two large suitcases and a carry-on bag. Abby stared at the packed luggage sitting in the corner of her room. That was all she could carry into their new life. Going back to the place she’d started out in this world felt terrifying; the last time she had been in the States was at the brash age of seventeen. She’d loved her time in South Africa. It was time to move on and new adventures started with a first step…and Djibouti.Abby asked Lizzy to come over that evening. It was time to tell her friend the truth and to say their goodbyes. Lizzy wouldn’t like the revelation, it could be the death of their friendship. A grim byproduct of the circumstances, but Lizzy needed to be warned she was a link to Josephine Abigail Evans that Khalid may u
Clear as day, Abby walked out of the café with Levi Bakal. Max’s earpiece came alive with Donnie’s voice. “They’re walking to Bakal’s car to see his new wallpaper. The red car, forward and to the left.” Max spotted it one aisle over. Abby’s design company was closed for business so what the hell was she doing? “Donnie, I want you out there. Do a loop to our vehicle, pretend to get something and then pull her back in.”“Copy.”
The rear door opened onto an alley. Johnny pulled Lizzy behind him as he cleared the area, leading her away from the café. The chatter of fire dropped off. The now infrequent pops meant that the threat was under control. She lagged behind.“Move, Lizzy, we’re getting out of here.” Johnny adjusted his earpiece. “Slater, do you read?” “Copy. Terminated eight tangos. No new unknowns located in the area. What’s your location and status?”“Both unharmed. Moving aro
Make sure to pick up “Stain on the Earth,” the next installment of the Mobile Intelligence Series. Find out what happens in Johnny and Lizzy’s story! Peshawar, Pakistan Lizette Steyn disengaged the slide, pulled up the door handle and swung the aircraft door outward. Frigid air swept in and she barely repressed a shiver. “Freezing fudge buckets,” she muttered before greeting the ground agent at the top of the stairs. The miserable structure that was Bacha Khan International Airport looked archaic—with all the developing nations Lizzy had visited in the past five months—that was saying a lot. Peshawar, the wild west town of Pakistan, felt as cold as a dead man’s nose. “Well isn’t that just grand,” Brianna muttered, stepping out of the wind. “All I bloody packed was a vest and a T-shirt.” Lizzy refrained from rolling her eyes. The other two Cabin Attendants had as much sense as two rolling hamsters. Brianna, a hardy Irish g
Utah.Four months later.Max pulled into the drive. It was good to be home. He’d sold a generous acreage of his land in Colorado and decided to purchase the luxury log cabin in the mountains near the Snowbasin Ski Resort in Salt Lake City. Utah was a safe place to raise kids where they could comfortably live off the grid. Close enough to the city yet tucked away in their own slice of paradise. Abby loved the snow, trying out snowboarding and then skiing. As spring weather set in, she’d taken Gabriel on a couple of hikes in the Wasatch Mountains. Max couldn’t wait to join in.The recent three-month deployment he’d just flown in from, meant that he’d spent little time with them since settling down to family life. Max thought back on their journey after leaving the clinic in Namibia all those months ago. After arriving in Djibouti, a bunch of suits met them on the tarmac. Max refused to be separated, s
Johannesburg. Four weeks later. That damn dog wouldn’t be able to fight its way out of a paper packet, never mind protect his Lizzy. Johnny watched her mom’s little rat dog take a shit on the sidewalk, before his blonde beauty bent over with a poop bag to sweep up the steaming parcel. Johnny paused to take in the spectacular view that was Lizzy’s incredible ass. Perky butt cheeks shaped beautifully by faded skinny jeans. Her retro outfit included a Michael Jackson “Thriller” T-shirt, silver sneakers, fire-engine lipstick and a bandana holding back curls. Where was she taking the ankle biter? There were no parks nearby plus she carried a bright red handbag. Not the wisest choice on the streets of Jo’burg, yet she wandered down the street like she was strolling through Central Park. Granted, it was a suburban area, but it wasn’t safe. Lizzy dropped the bag of rat droppings into a neighbor’s garbage can, then wiped her hands with a wet wipe. Her p
Abby woke to two very different male snores. One loud and raspy and the other sounding like a squeaky puppy. Max lay stretched out on the chair, balancing a snoring Gabe like a football in his lap. The comical pair had her giggling, a sound she promptly regretted as a pain lanced through her chest.Max was by her side in a flash, tucking Gabe under his arm and stroking her hair. “Easy now, baby. Shallow breaths, you’ll be okay.”Abby breathed through the pain before grasping his strong hand in hers. Max laid a sleeping Gabe by her side.
Windhoek, Namibia.By American standards, the German-run health facility was up to code. By African standards it was the Ritz Carlton. The floors were clean, walls freshly painted, it was well stocked and seemed organized. None of that alleviated the tension running through Max. They were still situated in fucking Africa, where he was relying on foreign medical staff he knew jack shit about to perform surgery on Abigail. Two hours had gone by and still no word. The nursing staff were giving Max a wide berth after he’d hounded them for the past hour.
The only makeshift weapon in the austere room was a clay bowl situated on the bedside table. Abby lunged for it, as Roman pounced onto the mattress. Grabbing the lip of the bowl, Abby smashed it into the side of his head, causing him to collapse as the ornament exploded.Roman moaned as Abby scrambled off the bed. Due to her injuries, she moved far slower than she’d have liked, as though she were wading through quicksand. She crawled to the door, the swaying room and the hammering music added to the disorientation. She had to get to Gabe.“You fucking bitch.”
The landing was rough. Fourteen miles per hour winds rocked the aircraft. A Cape windstorm descended on the city, and fifty mph gusts were predicted within the hour. Thanks to Mandla’s contacts, they’d secured a private landing strip on a wine farm near Sir Lowry’s Pass—thirteen clicks out. With lights and speed on their side, they were looking at a nine-minute drive. Khalid’s jet had landed at Stellenbosch Airfield twenty-eight minutes before them but had a longer commute of twenty-one kilometers. Praying that Khalid hit traffic, Max’s team raced for Somerset West.Mandla gave Max the stink eye. “N
The helicopter landed just north of Johannesburg at Lanseria Airport. Max leapt onto the runway, followed by Donnie, Slater, and Anton. Go-bags were provided as they raced to a private aircraft, fueled and ready for takeoff. Mandla Nkosi and Johnny greeted Max at the bottom of the stairs. Johnny dude-hugged him before breaking the news. “Khalid hired additional help. We didn’t get there in time. Our drone saw five men entering Noleen’s safe house. They’re holding them hostage until Khalid arrives.”Mandla grabbed Max’s bag. “My six-man team got there as quickly as they could but we were too late.”
Fifteen minutes after takeoff, Abby had to delay Khalid and his four guerrillas. There were too many of them to take on herself, especially with a limited knowledge of self-defense. If she guessed correctly, the flight was only eighty to a hundred minutes of flying time. You can do this, girl. Take what you know about aircrafts and formulate a plan. A history of extensive flight safety training might just give her an edge. Two of the four guards were buckled in their seats. One man in the lavatory while Roman stood near the cockpit. Khalid tapped away on his laptop, seated towards the front of the aircraft on the plush seats facing the cabin. The cold bastard behaved like an ordinary businessman on a work trip. The guard seated opposite Khalid was buck