Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Aaron's Honor (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Men of Mercy Book 8) by Lindsay Cross Page B
Authors: Lindsay Cross
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officer. He'd tapped right into the hard drive Aaron had been running on for over a year. Revenge.
Mr. J had been the reason for his teammate, Shane Carter's, death. He'd tried to have the Team ambushed and murdered, twice. He'd even gone after their families.
He needed to die.
Aaron balled his hand into a fist and stared at the wall, suppressing the urge to throw a punch right through it, anything to disseminate some of the rage rolling around inside him. He'd never been so physically tied to his emotions, not even before the Teams and training had hammered it out of him. But talking about J, knowing he'd been within miles of the bastard and had let him slip through his fingers, left him with acid in his gut.
Maybe O'Keefe was right, maybe he should get a hop back overseas. If Celine was taken care of...Aaron shook his head. He couldn't abandon her now, especially to a sneaky fucker like O'Keefe. The guy had snake eyes, slithering around the room, constricting their actions and reactions. He'd controlled the conversation by using Aaron's emotions against him. And just like a hungry fish, Aaron had taken the bait.
Something was wrong here. Aaron dropped his head in his hand and rubbed his temples, reaching back into the early days of his training, CIA protocol involved two officers for questioning a witness. One to observe, the other to ask questions and probe.
“Speirs? What the fuck are you doing in the catacombs?”
Aaron jerked up to see Agent K, TF-S's liaison stalking down the hall, the bags under his eyes evidence he’d just woken from sleep.
“K? What the hell is going on?”
“Just got some new intel on Mr. J. Possibly a break – I don’t know. One of my guys found a connection between Mr. J and Senator Cotter dating back over twenty years ago. Could help us find him.” K scrubbed a hand over his head and leaned against the wall.
“What kind of connection?” Aaron asked.
“I don’t know yet, but believe me, I’ll find out. If Cotter was secretly involved with J somehow this whole time…I’ll take him down myself.”
With J kidnapping Cotter’s daughter, it wasn’t likely the two had any kind of working relationship and with J’s history of treason, Caroline’s kidnapping seemed more like some kind of power play. “The two guys you sent to the airport for transport, Eli and Daniel, they new or something?”
“Don’t know any agents by those names.” Agent K pushed off from the wall.
“The CIA sent them,” Aaron ground out.
“What the hell are you talking about?” K countered.
“Celine Latimer. Me. Your agents were there waiting,” Aaron said.
Mr. K shook his head. “We didn't send any agents. This floor was ordered to be cleared out over two hours ago.”
Aaron's gaze narrowed on K as his body went rigid as fuck with dread. “You have an Agent O'Keefe here? Bright red hair?”
“No,” Mr. K said.
“Bastard. J's gonna finish what he started in Afghanistan.” Aaron ripped his pistol from his back and kicked the door. Pain shot straight up his leg. The door rocked on its frame but didn't budge.
“Reinforced steel. Here.” K swiped his badge, keyed the code and stepped back.
Aaron threw the unlocked door open, raising his weapon in one fluid movement, embracing the cold comfort of training that settled over his shoulders.
This is what he did best. Killing.
O'Keefe had his arm around Celine's neck, a needle held at the ready. “Don't move.”
Celine clawed at O'Keefe's arm, her face bright red. She coughed, a harsh sound cut short when O’Keefe tightened his grip.
The anger at Mr. J gave way to a cold murderous menace. “Let her go.”
O'Keefe smiled and his eyes narrowed. “No way. Clear out or I'll kill her, and I promise, the poison works fast.”
Aaron watched as the man's eyes lit with pleasure. Fucking bastard.
“I'll put a bullet in you. Drop the needle.”
“I'd do it if I were you; Speirs can drop you like this.” Mr. K moved beside him and
Mr. J had been the reason for his teammate, Shane Carter's, death. He'd tried to have the Team ambushed and murdered, twice. He'd even gone after their families.
He needed to die.
Aaron balled his hand into a fist and stared at the wall, suppressing the urge to throw a punch right through it, anything to disseminate some of the rage rolling around inside him. He'd never been so physically tied to his emotions, not even before the Teams and training had hammered it out of him. But talking about J, knowing he'd been within miles of the bastard and had let him slip through his fingers, left him with acid in his gut.
Maybe O'Keefe was right, maybe he should get a hop back overseas. If Celine was taken care of...Aaron shook his head. He couldn't abandon her now, especially to a sneaky fucker like O'Keefe. The guy had snake eyes, slithering around the room, constricting their actions and reactions. He'd controlled the conversation by using Aaron's emotions against him. And just like a hungry fish, Aaron had taken the bait.
Something was wrong here. Aaron dropped his head in his hand and rubbed his temples, reaching back into the early days of his training, CIA protocol involved two officers for questioning a witness. One to observe, the other to ask questions and probe.
“Speirs? What the fuck are you doing in the catacombs?”
Aaron jerked up to see Agent K, TF-S's liaison stalking down the hall, the bags under his eyes evidence he’d just woken from sleep.
“K? What the hell is going on?”
“Just got some new intel on Mr. J. Possibly a break – I don’t know. One of my guys found a connection between Mr. J and Senator Cotter dating back over twenty years ago. Could help us find him.” K scrubbed a hand over his head and leaned against the wall.
“What kind of connection?” Aaron asked.
“I don’t know yet, but believe me, I’ll find out. If Cotter was secretly involved with J somehow this whole time…I’ll take him down myself.”
With J kidnapping Cotter’s daughter, it wasn’t likely the two had any kind of working relationship and with J’s history of treason, Caroline’s kidnapping seemed more like some kind of power play. “The two guys you sent to the airport for transport, Eli and Daniel, they new or something?”
“Don’t know any agents by those names.” Agent K pushed off from the wall.
“The CIA sent them,” Aaron ground out.
“What the hell are you talking about?” K countered.
“Celine Latimer. Me. Your agents were there waiting,” Aaron said.
Mr. K shook his head. “We didn't send any agents. This floor was ordered to be cleared out over two hours ago.”
Aaron's gaze narrowed on K as his body went rigid as fuck with dread. “You have an Agent O'Keefe here? Bright red hair?”
“No,” Mr. K said.
“Bastard. J's gonna finish what he started in Afghanistan.” Aaron ripped his pistol from his back and kicked the door. Pain shot straight up his leg. The door rocked on its frame but didn't budge.
“Reinforced steel. Here.” K swiped his badge, keyed the code and stepped back.
Aaron threw the unlocked door open, raising his weapon in one fluid movement, embracing the cold comfort of training that settled over his shoulders.
This is what he did best. Killing.
O'Keefe had his arm around Celine's neck, a needle held at the ready. “Don't move.”
Celine clawed at O'Keefe's arm, her face bright red. She coughed, a harsh sound cut short when O’Keefe tightened his grip.
The anger at Mr. J gave way to a cold murderous menace. “Let her go.”
O'Keefe smiled and his eyes narrowed. “No way. Clear out or I'll kill her, and I promise, the poison works fast.”
Aaron watched as the man's eyes lit with pleasure. Fucking bastard.
“I'll put a bullet in you. Drop the needle.”
“I'd do it if I were you; Speirs can drop you like this.” Mr. K moved beside him and
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