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Authors: Jan Hambright

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BOOK: Around-the-Clock Protector
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The cabin rattled.

“Sorry, Marathon. My finger got happy.”

“Beats the hell out of a dud.” Carson pulled Ava
closer, mentally preparing for their escape as he counted off ten seconds.

Blast number two was close. Its percussion shook the tiny log structure like a 6.0 quake.

Six…five…four…three…two…one.

Explosion number three ignited. The ground shuddered, rattling the dishes in the cupboards.

“Go-go-go!” Carson yelled.

Nick Shelby threw open the rear door, his pistol raised.

The van ground to a halt, raising a cloud of dust.

The side door slid open.

Carson made a lunge for the opening.

A bullet zinged past, just missing his head.

Their escape had been spotted. He only hoped the opposition didn’t have reinforcements waiting down the road.

They made it to the vehicle just as all hell broke loose with detonation number four.

“Hang on,” Eli shouted from the driver’s seat.

“I’m hit!” Nick yelled as Mark and Cyrus pulled him into the van and shut the door.

“Location?” Carson asked, cradling Ava against him.

“My leg.”

“Cyrus, check for bleeding.”

“Can do.”

Carson tried to relax as Eli spun the van around and peeled out of the driveway.

“Any sign of backup for these thugs?”

“Negative. I didn’t see anyone along the road.”

He felt a breath of foreboding as the van sped down the narrow dirt road leading to the main highway and escape.

“Did you get anything from the bogeys before lights-out?”

“Yeah. The man in the suit was a doctor,” Cyrus said from the rear seat. “I didn’t get a chance to check the other two’s credentials before the sniper took them out.”

Concern laced through him. Why would there be a Russian doctor on scene, unless he’d been there to make Ava talk? He knew some Russian agents used psychological alteration and warfare. Had she become a victim of their cruel methods? And what possible information could she have that would be of any value to them? She was an attaché. Top secret wasn’t in her job description.

Carson gritted his teeth as the van lurched hard to the right, almost knocking him over.

“Take it easy, Eli. We’re in the home stretch.”

“Have a look out the rear window.”

In the distance and closing fast, a pair of headlights on high beam bored into the back of the van.

Could this mission go any more wrong? Carson
wondered as he settled Ava on the floor next to him and drew his pistol.

“Give this crate all you’ve got.”

“Can do.” Eli accelerated.

“Have you got more poppers, Nitro?”

“Are you kidding? I buy them by the truckload.”

“Let’s give our pals a display they won’t forget.”

“Coming right up.” Mark unzipped his pack and dug in.

“How’s Nick?” Carson asked.

“He’ll live,” Cyrus said. “A bullet grazed his calf. I can clean it up at the warehouse.”

“No offense, but I’m going to the hospital,” Nick said, his voice strained from the pain. “Dr. Heidi Fields is on call tonight. I checked. One look at her and a man’s pain moves to another location on his body. I might get lucky tonight.”

“A guy like you can hope.” Cyrus chuckled, a broad smile on his face, shadowed in the headlights of the car behind them.

“It’s ready. What do you say we turn this babe loose?” Mark crawled to the rear of the van, put his hand on the door handle and popped the latch.

He pushed it open a crack and dropped the explosive out. “Three…two…one.”

The C4 exploded as the car drove over it.

A fireball lit up the night sky.

The driver swerved, lost control and slammed into a tree.

Eli hit the brakes.

The van slid to a stop.

Carson stared out the rear window at the smoldering car. “Back it up. Let’s ID these guys.”

Eli put the van in Reverse and backed toward the accident, stopping twenty feet shy of the car.

“Keep your eyes open and your weapons handy,” he ordered.

Like the expertly trained assault team they were, they dispersed as they left the van, taking up their positions in precision as they approached the disabled vehicle.

“Clear,” Carson said into his mouthpiece as he stood next to the driver’s window staring at the two unconscious men inside the black sedan.

He pushed the driver back from the air bag and steering wheel. Reaching inside the man’s lapel pocket, Carson pulled out his ID and flipped it open, turning it toward the red glow coming from the van’s taillights.

A picture of the driver stared up at him from an NSA security badge.

“What the hell…they’re NSA.”

Carson stared back up the road leading to the cabin, his body tense.

“Search the car for weapons. Let’s see if they were doing the shooting tonight.”

A warning pounded in his brain.

What were a couple of National Security Agency spooks doing in the middle of a CIA hostage rescue operation?

Chapter Two

Carson reran the mission in his head on the ride back to the warehouse in Issaquah.

The team had done everything right, but having Ava passed out in the seat next to him added to the grind of uncertainty wearing down his clarity.

He was a CIA man. No questions, no regrets, but he couldn’t deny the fact that they’d been sent on the mission minus the players list.

Until he knew exactly what they were dealing with, he planned to take countermeasures.

“I’m ordering the team dark for twenty-four hours,” he said as the van slowed and the gate to the warehouse swept open. Once he returned Ava to McLean, they’d rendezvous back at the Lazy-B in Idaho.

“Use it for some personal downtime.”

“Reason?” Cyrus asked from the rear of the van.

“Call it overreaction, call it gut garble, but until we know what those two NSA spooks were doing in our
wagon train, we’re better off scattered. We’ll hitch the team back up after I deliver the package and debrief.”

“You won’t get an argument from me,” Cyrus said. “Something’s going on. We’ll probably be the last to know.”

“Maybe.” Wariness pinched the muscles between his shoulder blades as Eli stopped the van in front of the warehouse’s overhead door and pressed the opener.

“Watch your backs,” he said, staring into the warehouse, which was illuminated by the van’s headlights.

One by one the team pulled and readied their weapons. If the hostage rescue had been compromised, there was always a chance the warehouse was no longer secure.

“Nitro, Joker, Domino, take the flanks. Tux and I will take it straight up the middle in the van. Copy?”

“Loud and clear,” Agent Hunt said.

Mark, Nick and Cyrus exited the vehicle through the side door and slipped inside the open door, disappearing into the shadows outside the headlight beams.

Carson’s heart rate picked up as he waited, prepared to take on whatever might come at them from out of the darkness.

“All clear, Marathon,” Agent Hunt said.

“Copy that, Joker.”

Eli pulled through the door just as the overhead lights came on. He stopped the vehicle and killed the engine. “Need help getting her into the office?”

“I’ve got it. Thanks.” Carson lifted Ava and climbed out the side door. He stared down at her in the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights overhead.

Her color had returned, but still he was worried. An overdose of any sedative could be fatal, and they had no way of knowing how much had been administered.

He headed for the secure room at the back of the building. One by one his men filtered in from their search-and-secure mission.

Once inside the enclosed office, he strode into the back room they used as sleeping quarters, hit the light switch with his elbow and laid her down on his bunk.

He straightened and looked at her. A wave of longing rose inside him. What had happened between them months ago had been spontaneous, but that indiscretion had the potential to cause them both a lot of grief.

The agency frowned on personal relationships between operatives, and physical contact of a sexual nature was strictly off-limits. The temptation could end one’s career. Still, that threat hadn’t been enough to cool their desire or keep them from jumping into the fire with both feet.

Heat burned through him, warming his blood again. He gritted his teeth and left the room, closing the door behind him.

His men were busy stuffing gear into their packs.

“How is she?” Cyrus asked, looking up from his task.

“Still out, but her color’s returned and her breathing is steady.”

“Want us to hang around?”

“Negative. She’s not a threat. I’ll deliver her and make contact in twenty-four hours. Make sure you and the team recover whatever you can get from the laptop.”

“Okay.” Nick picked up his pack and slung it over his shoulder. Giving the rest of the team a nod, he left the office.

One after the other, his men walked out of the room and then the warehouse, disappearing like ghosts at dawn. Each with his own silent agenda, a protocol trained into them. A protocol that could someday save their lives.

Carson hung his head as the warehouse lights went out, leaving the cavernous building hollow and silent.

He closed the door to the office and punched the lock-down code into the keypad.

In a matter of seconds steel shutters slid down over the windows, encasing the room in a layer of protection. He didn’t know exactly who the enemy was, but they hadn’t found a single rifle in the NSA agent’s car. Whoever had done the shooting at the cabin and taken out their bogeys was still out there, and if they were lucky enough to pinpoint the warehouse, they’d play hell trying to get inside.

Carson hesitated at the door to the sleeping quarters. He needed to do a head-to-toe medical assessment
on Ava, but the thought of touching her again spilled fire into his veins.

She was a hostage. A hostage he’d been directed to rescue and return to the fold. His mission was almost complete. He’d have her back at CIA headquarters in twelve hours.

Reaching out, he turned the knob and pushed the door open.

Carson stopped in his tracks.

Something was wrong.

He’d left the light on in the room and now it was dark. He glanced at the bed where he’d put her down.

It was empty.

“Ava? It’s Carson Nash. I’m coming in so you can tell me what happened to you, and where you’ve been for the last four months.”

Silence greeted his words and hung in the air. Caution worked through him.

Listening, he tried to pinpoint her location in the small room. There was a hidden escape hatch, but the code was locked in his head. Still, there were plenty of places to hide.

“Come on. We haven’t got much time.” He stepped forward, determined to locate her. Determined to get answers.

“Ava?”

The force of the metal door caught him full in the face, sending him backward.

He managed to stay on his feet, and recovered his balance in an instant.

Lunging forward, he rammed the door with his shoulder before she could get it closed.

She shrieked.

The note of fear in her cry sliced into his mind, taming the primal, all-or-nothing response he’d been conditioned to unleash on his opponent.

“I’m coming in!” He pushed against the door, feeling her resistance wane.

The door swung open.

He stomped into the room, anger evident in his steps.

Turning to the left, he spotted her pressed into the corner, but it was the small .32-caliber handgun she pointed at him that made him pause. She’d found his hideaway pistol, tucked into the box springs of his bed.

Staring at her, he tried to name the emotion in her moss-green eyes, but couldn’t. What the hell had happened to her?

“Put the gun down.”

He took a step toward her. Her eyes widened in panic.

Compassion filled him. “You’re safe here. We’re in a secure location. I just want to talk to you before I take you back to McLean.”

The panic in her eyes turned to terror. She took two steps back. “I won’t go! Who are you?”

Surprise rattled him. He stared into her face, intent
on discovering the Ava Ross he knew existed somewhere inside the haggard and frightened woman who pointed a lethal weapon at his chest.

“Agent Carson Nash. CIA. IAops. We met in D.C. four months ago. I’ve been directed to rescue you and return you to the fold.”

“I know you?” The raspy question sent a charge of concern through him. He stepped closer.

“We worked a diplomatic detail together.” If the information registered at all, it didn’t show. Instead, confusion glistened in her eyes.

She’d been altered—he was sure of it. Concern jolted him into action. “Come on, Ava. Give me the gun. I need to make sure you’re okay.”

“Don’t come any closer. I know how to use this.”

He didn’t doubt it for a minute. She’d been able to keep up with him at the firing range, nailing him shot for shot.

“The Russians holding you drugged you. Do you know what they gave you?”

“Drugged?” She shook her head in denial. “Bastards!”

With each passing second she became more agitated. He had to get the gun before she tapped him. Maybe he could talk her down with facts.

“My team and I rescued you from a cabin in the Cascade Mountains. We brought you here, but there were snipers on scene. If you don’t put the gun down
and let me help you, we might have to deal with them again.”

He watched her soften, but not melt.

“I want to leave. I want out of here.” She glanced around, sidestepping out of the corner. “You’re going to take me home. Do you understand?”

“And where is home?” Carson studied her, watching her struggle for an answer.

“I…” A single tear squeezed from her eye and streaked down her cheek.

Sympathy looped around his nerves. Ava Ross had been compromised. With drugs, hypnosis, he wasn’t sure, but he had to get her to a doc.

“Outside D.C. You have a nice place in Annandale with a great patio. We barbecued steaks. Don’t you remember?”

She stared at him, her beautiful eyes becoming hollow and lifeless. “I don’t believe you. You want to hurt me and my—”

“You’re wrong.” Carson stepped toward her, determined to end the situation. He wore body armor under his shirt. He could survive a gunshot if he took it straight on. It was a risk he’d have to take.

“No closer! Do you hear me—don’t come any closer. I’ll shoot, I swear to God I will.”

Carson braced for live fire and charged her, catching her around the waist.

The gun went off.

A bullet sang past his ear and pinged into the ceiling, but he held on to her, pushing her back with his momentum until they collided with the wall.

She grunted, the impact driving the air out of her lungs.

He grabbed her right wrist, pulled her arm up over her head and pinned her with his body.

The contact seared him. “Look at me, Ava,” he demanded, intent on searching out a glimmer of recognition in her hollow stare. But her gaze was blank, her thoughts unreadable.

With his right hand he took the pistol away from her and let her go, taking a step back.

“I don’t want to hurt you, but it’s obvious you’ve been altered.”

She turned and stumbled to one of the beds, where she sat down. “Do you have credentials?”

Carson snagged his agency ID from the desk next to the bed and flipped it open.

She stared at it for a moment before gazing up at him to confirm that the picture and the man were one and the same.

She swallowed. “You called me Ava. What’s my last name?”

“Ross. Agent Ava Ross.” A knot coiled in his gut. “We worked together in D.C., but that’s not important right now. I need to know what happened to you. You were supposed to have died four months ago
aboard a Russia-bound aircraft, along with Ambassador Yuri Borisov. I read the dossier.”

Ava rocked forward, putting her head in her hands. “I wish I could help you, Agent Nash, but the last thing I remember is getting in a limo for the ride to the airport on March first at eight in the morning. Nothing days before, and sketchy details after.”

“Were you in the car alone?” Carson tensed. From her bedroom window he’d watched her get into the limo that morning after a night of mind-bending sex.

“There was someone else in the car, but I can’t remember who it was. I’ve tried.”

“So the last four months of your life are missing?”

“More or less.” She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears.

Carson popped the clip out of the gun and put it on the desk. “I know someone in Seattle who might be able to help you recover your memory before I transport you to McLean.”

She stood up, her body stiff with tension.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” In four steps he was next to her.

“I can’t go there. I don’t know why, but I can’t go there. Please.” She stared at him. Her face contorted into a grimace, her eyes pleading.

“The directive has come down. I’m bound to honor it.”

Reaching out, she locked her hand on his forearm. “You don’t understand. I can’t go there. They’ll hurt me. They’ll hurt—”

“Shh.” Carson stared up at the signal light in the corner of the room. It flashed in rapid succession, warning him trouble was on the way.

“Someone’s trying to penetrate the outer security curtain. We don’t have much time.” He grabbed the gun from the desk and reinserted the clip.

Taking her hand, he led her into the outer room, where he grabbed his pack, shoved the gun inside and killed the lights.

“There’s an escape hatch.”

She followed him back into the sleeping quarters.

Carson paused in front of the closet and pulled open the door. Reaching around the jamb, he found the control panel and turned the release, disguised as a coat hook.

Ava jumped as the rear of the closet slid open, revealing a steep stairwell.

“We’ve got ten seconds.” He pulled her into the closet, closed the door and stepped through the opening, taking her with him.

Pausing on the landing, he turned and pressed the control panel. The portal closed, and the emergency lighting system came on overhead.

“I don’t know how they found this place, but there’s a chance they know about this escape hatch.”

“Who are they?” Ava asked as they made their way down the narrow stairs and into a long hallway.

“I’m not sure. Could be Russian, could be NSA. This whole damn mission is stacked up like rush-hour traffic on the pike.”

He picked up the pace, breaking into a jog, still holding Ava’s hand. “They could be waiting at the other end of the corridor.”

Ava’s heart rate skyrocketed as Carson rushed her along the escape route. Her breath came in deep gasps that seared her lungs and made her feel light-headed.

“Stop…please, I can’t…” Her legs refused to move. Only the force of Carson pulling her along kept her forward momentum going, until her knees buckled and she hit the floor in a rush of black.

“Ava! Ava!”

The feel of his hand against her cheek snapped her back into the light. She stared up at him, feeling a brief moment of familiarity circulate through her mind.

BOOK: Around-the-Clock Protector
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