Delta revenge, p.7

Delta: Revenge, page 7

 

Delta: Revenge
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The health program was the perfect cover for Hana Ferrera. But when the hired mercenaries showed up, Sophia couldn’t do anything that an aid worker wouldn’t do. She was stuck inside until it was safe.

  The newest round of super-alpha soldier-protector men clattered through the stately front door with their dust and noise. They carried a harshness that tinged the air with a violent breeze as Sophia peeked over the edge of the second-floor railing. Guns were strapped to their bodies and in their hands. Their faces were covered in dirt despite the urban location. Wonder where they’ve been? They looked as though their day had been jam-packed with saving the world, or whatever they did on their always-classified projects.

  At least there were new faces to chat with over a couple of meals before they swooped out as loudly and brashly as they’d come in.

  Booming laugher and the baritone voices of men at the peak of an adrenaline high echoed through the embassy’s expansive foyer. It was a grand fortress of US territory in a dangerous, deadly part of the world. Honduras was a land of living pain, her home away from home until this assignment had run its course.

  Operation Whispering Willow had been Hana’s brainchild. She fought for women’s rights in Honduras, for women to exist as more than second-class citizens. Hana knew her husband was a dirty politician who likely did more than turn a blind eye to the Primeiro Comando’s activity in Tegucigalpa. She was in secret conversations with the Americans. All Sophia had to do was publicly play the role of an aid worker and privately act as a conduit of information.

  “Sophia?”

  She jumped, caught staring by Janella, the embassy’s housekeeper-cook-laundress. Or house mom. Janny made sure everything ran smoothly for those who lived there. She was also the only other woman on the premises and, therefore, Sophia’s closest friend at the moment and a giver of opinion cloaked as advice whether it was asked for or not.

  “Hey, Janny.” Sophia pushed away from the railing. “The cavalry has arrived.”

  She tossed her hand. “More mouths to feed. Maybe this bunch brings a couple funny stories to liven up the dinner conversation.” The start of wrinkles at the corners of her eyes crinkled. “I wish this place was back to the bustling building it used to be. Not this empty cavern it is now.”

  “I know, I know.” Not for the first time, Janny made it clear she was bored with the skeleton staff currently residing at the embassy. The post had been shut down previously, the risks making it not worth maintaining a full staff. Earlier that year, they’d reopened with two on-site political advisors, Ambassador Jensen and Mr. Brackster, who couldn’t survive without Janny. She came back.

  Both advisors were interesting in a reserved way—the complete and total opposite of Janny. Where they were skinny, old white men, she was a heavyset black woman who didn’t give a fuck and supplied no BS-enhanced answers. But Sophia had to give both men credit. They were tough in their own ways, and they had to be in order to work in Honduras.

  Ambassador Jensen had known Sophia since she first went overseas with her parents. He understood her, maybe because he knew both of her parents. She was tough as her father and as assertive as her mom. Jensen respected Sophia, as well as her assignment, when there were many people who wouldn’t give two thoughts to what she was risking her life for. The PC didn’t affect most Americans directly.

  But that was all relative. At any given point in time, different terrorist groups, dictators, and cartels could shift power, and the worst of the worst would be a different list of bad guys. The truth was they were all awful, but there was only so much evil and doom a person could focus on at a time.

  “Let’s meet our guests.” Janny put a heavy hand on Sophia’s shoulder. “Maybe there’s eye candy in addition to dinner conversation.”

  “Right.” Yes, let’s. There was nothing quite like men who looked as though they bench-pressed locomotives for fun. But really, Sophia was stuck in her head. She’d been uninterested in anyone since—

  “You coming?” Janny led the charge down the stairs, and they took the last step in stride, her house-mom act coming out in full force as Jensen and Brackster arrived from their downstairs offices.

  Sophia’s gaze danced from the casual dress of embassy advisors to the camouflaged and well-armed gaggle milling through their introductions. They looked like giants. Their equipment carried the edge of danger and their weapons the promise of safety.

  She tried for a deep breath, but when guys like this showed up, they generally sucked the oxygen out of the room. It was just their presence—the foreboding, dangerous nature of their very existence. Yes, the embassy had RSOs—regional security officers, the normal armed guards—but the off-the-books military guns for hire were different. They were on-site because of specific threats. Honduras was hostile, a black hole of death. No matter how easily the local villagers welcomed Sophia, their local leaders did not often appreciate US intrusion.

  So many people. So many opinions.

  As introductions were made, she kept a smile in place. One by one, names were given that were… familiar. “Brock Gamble. Grayson Ford. Ryder—”

  Her eyes rounded. They were not just familiar names, but their faces rang a bell, too. With only a smidge of doubt, Sophia knew they were friends of her brother. Maybe even Colin was here. Her excitement grew…

  “And Javier Almeida.”

  Oh. Shit.

  There was no Colin in sight, but it was definitely Titan’s Delta and definitely her Javier. Heat rocketed up her spine, tingling her cheeks and making the world swim sideways for the moment as she thought about her defunct wedding night and the one-night stand that she couldn’t forget.

  Oh God… what if he didn’t remember her? What if introductions of embassy staff were made, and his face didn’t show a glimmer of remembrance? How embarrassing.

  Surely, someone on Delta would remember her. They knew her family; some had come to her almost wedding. Javier should have to remember Colin’s little sister. Right? The speed at which her confusion and hope slammed together was nothing short of supersonic.

  Which would be more awkward—if Javier recognized her or if he didn’t? God, she was about to spiral into an uncertain-girl-sees-super-hot-guy mess.

  “And this is Sophia Cole and Janella Winkler.”

  Brock nodded to Janny and tilted his head at her. “Colin’s sister.”

  “Hi—”

  A low, near growl pushed from behind Brock and Ryder. Then Javier sidestepped in front of his team. His eyes swept up and down, confirming that he not only knew her but that he wasn’t happy. “What are you doing here?”

  All eyes went to her as the sting of his words hit. Sophia’s mouth dropped open as the daydreamed-about, super-hot guy stood in front of her like an imposing, angry asshole. A tingle of apprehension skirted up her neck, and stumbling thoughts killed off her nervous excitement. “Uh—”

  “Excuse me.” Ambassador Jensen stepped forward, protective of both her and his post. “Miss Cole is with the State Department.”

  “Bull.”

  Jensen’s posture tightened. He might’ve been a bureaucrat, but it took a no-BS reputation and the heart of a badass to live day in, day out in Honduras. “Speak to my aid worker like that again, and you’re gone.” He turned to Javier’s team leader. “Read me?”

  Brock nodded. “Step aside, Brazil.”

  Javier’s eyes locked onto hers, severe displeasure marring a face that she had wondered if she’d ever see again. The flutter in her stomach that happened every time she thought of him was replaced by a dark, hurting feeling as though all the butterflies that he’d made her feel had just died.

  “Hey all.” She gave a small wave to disperse the tension. It didn’t work. Janny’s stare was the strongest, a look that said Oh boy, do we have gossip to share.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” Ryder said, stepping in front of Javier and saving her from the uncomfortable gawks. “Nice seeing you again.”

  “You guys too.” Yay for Ryder trying to break the tension, but her gaze went back to Javier. His brows pinched tight, and his dirt-smeared, bearded face scowled. There wasn’t a flicker of interest or heat coloring his skin. Nothing except annoyance. Or anger.

  Alright, so Colin hadn’t lied. Javier wasn’t the playboy who went back for seconds. Duly noted. What her brother hadn’t mentioned was that the sweet guy she knew as Javier would be a jerk at their next run-in—though Colin didn’t actually know about her and Javier and would never know. She’d gleaned that intel by asking about his Delta team.

  “Okay, then.” Janny clapped, breaking the room’s focus on her and Javier. “Let’s get everyone settled. Dinner’s in an hour. Hope you boys like beef and potatoes.”

  Murmurs about hunger and the need for showers filled the hall, and Sophia used that break to dash back up the stairs. Instead of finding solitude, she heard a thump of equipment hitting the ground and heavy-booted steps chasing her.

  “Aw, shit.” Ryder’s Australian accent and laughter trailed behind her, and the boot steps were hot on her tail.

  Dang it. Eyes locked straight ahead, she was 100 percent certain Javier was making a scene—and she had no clue why he’d do that after their uncomfortable hello.

  At the top of the stairs, Javier’s strong fingers hooked her shoulder, slowing her down, pulling her to his flak-jacket-covered chest. The smell of outdoors and exertion made her painfully aware of the warrior behind her, and with one smooth move, as only Javier could pull off, he had her spun around and backed to the wall.

  “Sophia.” It was her name—not a question. Not even a confirmation. His hard voice was upset and protective. Actually, it had a million qualities, but none were nice.

  Her heart slammed, and her cheeks burned. Only inches separated their faces, and the last time they’d been that close, he’d been doing things to her body that could only be classified as wicked. Delightfully, dangerously devious. She’d dreamed about them so many times that having him this close, even as upset as he was for whatever inane reason, made her feel weightless.

  “What are you doing here?” The sexy musk of dirt, gunpowder, and outdoors came closer as his deep voice hinted a growl. Near-black eyes—matching his almost-black hair—and deep-tan skin covered with flecks of mud invaded her space. But for that flash of a moment, all she could think about was the past, when she had bitten into his shoulder as he made her come the first of many, many times.

  “Answer me,” he snapped, inching close enough that his breath was hot on her skin.

  The uneven cadence of her breathing was embarrassingly evident. “I’m working.”

  “You’re in Honduras.”

  She blinked, incredulous. “You are too.”

  “This is my job.”

  “What do you think I just said?”

  “You don’t get to play crusader—”

  Crusader! “You don’t get to embarrass me at work.”

  Javier licked his bottom lip, taking a step back as though he realized that he had her pinned in the US embassy and they were both at work. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  She’d had that thought on occasion in every job she’d had in a dangerous area. But Javier didn’t know the first thing about her, her background, or what her goal was. She saved lives. He might do it his way, but she most certainly had her own style, and she made a difference. Instead of letting Javier in on that secret, she turned away from him and forced her feet to retreat to her bedroom. “Nice seeing you again. Good night.”

  “Fine. Whatever.” The cold sound of his steps turning and heading down the stairs stabbed her heart.

  What did she think he was going to do—sweep her off her feet and tell her that night had stayed with him for months as well? Not a guy like Javier. He was a legend. Apparently. Well, apparently because all it had taken was for him to look at her sweetly, and they’d fallen into bed. Best sex of her life on one of her most embarrassing days. Her only defense against him now was sarcasm and separate rooms.

  Reaching her utilitarian bedroom suite, she slipped inside and collapsed on the bed. Tears burned into her eyes, slipping down. God, she wished Javier would just… have held her instead of yelling at her. Instead of ruining her favorite memory.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Running his hands over his grit-covered face, Javier needed to expend energy. Something—anything—to get Sophia Cole out of his mind. But they were trapped inside with strict orders not to engage. He couldn’t start shit with hostiles just to blow off steam, couldn’t seek comfort from the bite of a new tattoo, and couldn’t find a brawl where he’d let the punches land just to feel the pain. Those were the distractions he knew, his drug of choice: adrenaline. Endorphins would clear his mind of the beauty he’d just snarled at. But none of his regular options were available. Nor sex. He couldn’t fuck her again until they both came, screaming in exhaustion.

  Fucking hell. If he’d had any idea she was here, he could’ve prepared. Why wasn’t Colin on this job?

  Or maybe thank God Colin wasn’t on this job. Javier’s actions had been glaringly obvious. Concern like he’d not felt in years crushed his throat. He wondered how he hadn’t known that she would be here—where Delta was brought in because shit was too dangerous even for Honduras.

  Damn it. He pushed down a hall with no idea where he was going. The faint rumble of his teammates’ voices acted as his compass, and after one wrong try, Javier found the room they were bedding down in. The conversation died. Shit. He rubbed his forehead and then, taking his hands away from his face, met Grayson and Ryder’s curious looks and the pointed stare from their team leader.

  Crap.

  “Brazil.” Brock crossed his arms, face stern and eyes narrow. He stepped forward, the sound echoing in the basic room. “What was that shit?”

  “I have a headache.” He went back to massaging his temples. She was a headache—a perpetual one, seeing as he’d never quite forgotten their night. And she was a responsibility. He’d already done her wrong. Colin said not to touch her, and what did Javier do? Screw her then sleep next to her on her wedding night. What an asshole move. “It’s personal.”

  “I got that. Don’t create problems on this team. You read me?”

  “Loud and clear, boss man,” he mumbled. “But it’s nothing like that.”

  Grayson coughed a laugh, shaking his head, and Ryder didn’t try to hold back.

  Javier’s muscles bunched. “Thanks, assholes.”

  Ryder only laughed harder, and now Grayson didn’t try to hide it.

  “Shut it, pretty boy.” Javier glared at Grayson, which made Gray go back to shaking his head.

  “If she’s feeling lonely, I’ll…” Ryder smiled his megawatt grin, drawing out that Aussie accent of his.

  A jolt of protective possessiveness blasted through Javier. The only accent that was going to help that woman would be his. Or not. “She’s Colin’s sister. Back off.”

  “Know who she is, mate.”

  Javier kneaded his fists in the hollows of his eyes, cursing away thoughts of anything soft and sweet like the woman who’d told him good night with all the warmth of a fuck you. “Stay away from her.”

  “Easy, man.” Grayson chuckled. “If you like the girl, you like the girl. No commentary from me. Marlena, maybe. Ryder, yeah. But I’m just gonna watch the show.”

  Javier kicked off his boots, undressed to just his pants, and ignored the trailing comments as he headed for the showers with a change of clothes in hand. The bathroom was set up like a locker room. This location was used for teams coming in and bedding down. There was a row of sinks and mirrors and, around the L-bend, a row of partitioned showerheads. Stacks of towels, cloths, and soap sat on a ledge. He needed to get under a stream of hot water, to wash away the hours they’d spent trudging through the elements and forget about the last thirty minutes.

  Grabbing a towel from a shelf, Javier twisted a knob, and hot water poured down. He finished stripping down and stepped into the cascade of hot water, breathing in and trying to focus.

  Delta was on the trail of the Primeiro Comando traffickers. His driving force in life was revenge. Take out the PC, avenge his sister, then one day he might have time for other… thoughts. But until then, distractions like Sophia Cole were just that: distractions. They had to be filed away as a good time. He had no room in his heart for another person to be concerned about.

  Adélia. The idea that his sister could’ve been sold by the PC from one side of the globe to another, passed through Brazil to Honduras, was sickening. She would’ve been scared. Terrified. Brutalized. And every time he thought of that, his heart hardened because there was nothing he could do except dismantle the buying-and-selling network.

  The Delta gig was perfect. Sex trafficking funded terrorists. Titan Group did the right thing no matter the cost, focusing their talent on the bad guys who helped other bad guys. Delta had a contract to dry up terrorist money sources. If there were no girls to sell on the human market, there’d be no money for jihadists on a misguided path to kill innocent civilians.

  “Fucking cartels. Fucking terrorists,” he murmured into the stream of hot water then unwrapped the soap and lathered. He scrubbed his skin until it was nearly raw, but still, he worried about why Sophia was in Honduras.

  He needed to stop thinking about her. Distractions could make him off guard when he needed to only concentrate on the global networks and partnerships that these organizations weaved like spiderwebs. The drug cartels partnering with the human traffickers who were making deals with the oil-and-petroleum billionaires—it would astound even the most jaded person.

  Hell, he had been the most jaded. And even he was surprised at the labyrinth of criminal networks these monsters had. He tossed the washcloth over the shower knob, used the dispenser labeled “shampoo,” and ran his hands through his hair.

  Sophia Cole. He couldn’t keep his mind away, and that twinge of awareness traveled all the way to his dick.

  She was beautiful. Sexy. Honey-brown hair and matching eyes that mapped a passage to her soul. His muscles relaxed under the water even as blood pumped to his cock. Javier breathed in a steamy breath, letting his head drop back. Those truthful eyes of hers were in his mind.

 

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