Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Between a SEAL and a Hard Place (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Uncharted SEALs Book 7) Read online

  Text copyright ©2016 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Stoker Aces Production, LLC. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Special Forces: Operation Alpha remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Stoker Aces Production, LLC, or their affiliates or licensors.

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  Between a SEAL and a Hard Place

  An Uncharted SEALs story

  Delilah Devlin

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  About the Book

  From the Author

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  About Delilah Devlin

  Delilah’s Uncharted SEALs series

  The last person world-class sniper, Wolf Kinkaid, expected to see in the crosshairs of his rifle during an operation to take down a drug cartel assassin…was his pretty, bounty hunter wife. He takes the shot, disarming the bad guy, but the assassin wasn’t working alone, and now, Piper is a target for revenge.

  Solution? The two of them hole up in a safe house while his team tries to find the assassin’s psychotic brother. Piper and Wolf have issues to resolve, and all that time alone gives them something they haven’t enjoyed in excess for a while—each other. But while they get close, the enemy closes in…

  From the Author

  As a retired member of the armed forces (Army Signal Corp and a veteran of the Gulf War), whose sister, brother, and father also served, I’m well aware of the sacrifices our military members and their families make in defense of our country. To the men and women of the United States military, formerly and currently serving—thank you for your service. This book is dedicated to you.

  Sincerely,

  Delilah Devlin

  Chapter One

  So many things were the same. Merciless heat beating down from above. Staring through the scope of a Macmillan Tac-50 from a dusty perch. Spotter at his elbow. Familiar chatter from the mission commander in his ear. And yet, everything was different.

  For Wolf Kinkaid, the differences made the experience surreal. Yes, the air was hot, but he wasn’t wearing a heavy helmet which would have cooked his brain. His position was on a high-rise rooftop rather than amid rocks in a lonely mountain pass. The spotter at his elbow was dressed in SWAT black rather than a uniform of woodland camouflage, as was he. And the commander providing updates of what was happening inside the building entrance he surveilled wasn’t talking about insurgents. He gave details about an Assistant District Attorney, a “suit” who was about to exit the law building they watched.

  Yup, he was a long, long way from Afghanistan.

  “Suit’s taking the elevator,” Deke Warrick, the mission commander, said quietly over the COMM in his ear.

  Wolf checked the pictures he’d taped to the wall he knelt behind. One was of ADA Ben Souther who had a hit on him from a Mexican cartel, primarily for the fact he was preparing to prosecute a high-ranking cartel member for murder and racketeering. The second photo was of the assassin that the team—which consisted of FBI, ATF, and Charter agents—was trying to take down. They wanted to arrest the bastard and maybe milk him for names of other members residing in the Dallas-Fort Worth area. Wolf’s particular talent was Plan B if the assassin got too close to Souther.

  Outfitted with a Kevlar vest, Souther was accompanied by two bodyguards, both provided by Wolf’s new employer, Charter Group. They’d trained for this mission for a week in another city with a similar topography, all while keeping Souther in a safe house. Souther’s office had hired the company to provide added protection and hopefully nab another cartel member, because the cartel lieutenant they’d captured had, so far, remained uncooperative. After weeks of lying low, Souther had grown restless and suggested they end impasse by allowing him to act as bait.

  He was a gutsy bastard, an ex-Marine who’d used the GI Bill to complete his education and become an attorney. So Charter had agreed, figuring he knew the score and could handle himself should shit go sideways. A situation which chatter from paid CIs said was about to happen.

  “Get ready,” said Deke. “He’s about to come through the doors.”

  His sights already set, Wolf looked through his scope, noted Souther’s set jaw, his short buzz-cut. Determination and fearlessness radiated from the man. He wasn’t a SEAL but the man was a warrior, no matter he now wore a suit and tie. His battlefield was a different kind of minefield, a courtroom.

  The doors swung open, and one of his guards preceded him, glancing left and right before turning to usher Souther through. His second guard kept close to his back, glancing behind, then taking in the sidewalk and the armored car placed behind a barricade that stood in front of the doors.

  “We have movement from the West,” said Deke.

  Wolf pivoted his weapon on its tripod. A slender figure with an impressive rack, wearing a ball cap, moved forward at fast clip. But she wasn’t the target. He recognized that long, fit frame. Her brown and copper hair was drawn back in a ponytail that bobbed behind her. He noted a cord extending from her ear to her collar. Damn, his fears were confirmed, the little twit was on the job, and likely looking for the same target they hoped to capture.

  “Wolf, is that—”

  “Southwest corner of the building,” came another urgent voice.

  Again, Wolf sighted down his barrel. No time to wonder why she was here or how she’d discovered their plan. A man wearing blue jeans, a cowboy hat drawn low over his forehead, and wearing a casual jacket also made his way down the sidewalk from the opposite direction.

  “God dammit,” he whispered as he took a bead on the man, ready to pull back the trigger at the first sight of a weapon—should the team closing in on him not get there in time. He glanced to the left, hoping the damned woman wasn’t about to get in the way of his bullet. Then she glanced up to the rooftop where he perched, mostly hidden, and he cussed again. She knew he was there, but she was still coming fast.

  She reached behind her and drew a handgun then kept it hidden against her thigh.

  “Dammit, he’s got a gun!” Deke said. “Wolf! Take him out!”

  Wolf adjusted, aimed for the middle of the cowboy’s thigh, drew a breath, held it for a split second, and then pulled the trigger. Blood spurted from the wound.

  Piper sprinted the last few feet and took the assailant down at the knees. His cowboy hat fell away, long black hair spilled, a dark hard-edged profile was revealed. They had their man. Or rather, Piper did, pressing into the wound Wolf had made while shoving her Glock hard between the bastard’s legs.

  The man reached out his hands and dropped his weapon to the pavement at the same moment the first of Souther’s guards took position over him and Piper, his stance wide and his weapon pointing downward.

  Blood pounded in his ears. Wolf cussed again and put down his weapon.

  “Want me to pack up for you?” his spotter drawled.

  Wolf shot him a deadly glare. “Not a fucking word.”

  The man smirked and took up position behind the weapon, likely to watch the fireworks through the scope.

  Wolf headed to the stairwell and hopped the steps two at a time, racing downward. At ground level, he hit the bar on the exit door with a bang an
d sprinted across the street.

  The team was converging. Souther had been moved to the armored car. Piper was still on the ground, but now lying face down beside her “collar” with her hands cupped behind her head.

  “I have paperwork in my pocket,” she said, annoyance in her voice. “He’s mine to return to Houston on an outstanding warrant.” Frowning, she glanced behind her shoulder. “Is this really necessary?”

  Deke shook his head then spotted Wolf bearing down on them. “Mind explaining how she knew to be here at this exact moment?” he bit out.

  Wolf shook his head, too furious to get out the words. She’d promised him she’d be taking easier jobs, ones close to home. And although she’d never promised to stay completely out of harm’s way, something that would have been impossible for a bounty hunter to do, she had said she wouldn’t be seeking the most dangerous, high-value jobs. At least she’d kept the first promise about staying closer to home. He bent and tugged at her earpiece, dislodging it.

  When she looked over her other shoulder at him, she ventured a thin smile. “Hi, there, hon. Thought that might be you on the rooftop.”

  He brought the device to his mouth. “Calvin, hustle your ass down here. Now,” he gritted out, then dropped it. She began to open her mouth. “Just shut up.” He glanced at Deke, wanting to know if he had a preference for how this should be handled.

  “Bring her along. I’d like to hear her sorry excuse, too.”

  Several of the team turned as a large man barreled down the walkway, huffing. “Damn, Piper,” Calvin said, bending, hands on knees as he gasped for breath. “Told you this was a bad idea.”

  “I took him down,” she said, her voice gruff. “He’s mine.”

  “Don’t think they’re gonna agree, baby girl, and your man looks ready to pop an aneurism.”

  She glanced back again. “Can I get up?”

  Barely able to keep his motions contained, Wolf reached behind his back, drew out a set of cuffs and snagged her wrists, drawing them down to the small of her back, and quickly snapping on the cuffs. Then he gripped her upper left arm and levered her to a stand.

  Deke handed him her piece and the keys to the vehicle they’d come in. “See you back at HQ.”

  Wolf grunted and goose-walked his wife to the underground garage.

  From Wolf’s tight features, Piper figured any explanations would only make him madder. The situation was so unfair. She and Calvin had worked their own sources to find Mano Ponce, a Zeta cartel hit man. He had an outstanding warrant and had been believed to still be living in Nuevo Laredo, just across the Texas border and out of reach—until he’d surfaced in Dallas two days ago.

  One of Calvin’s sources, a mechanic at a chop shop, had contacted him to let him know that something big was about to happen. He’d revealed that a man on the FBI’s most wanted list—who’d escaped custody in Houston after allegedly murdering a rival cartel member—was in their area. He went on to say that they should be grateful for his information, grateful enough to share a percentage of the huge bail bond they would earn.

  After she had done her due diligence and figured out who the big collar was likely to be, she’d ignored Calvin’s recommendation that they let this one go. Let the local law enforcement know he’d been sighted, because after all, hadn’t she promised her new husband that she wouldn’t be seeking the big bads anymore?

  But Piper had taken one look at the amount listed by the bondsmen seeking Ponce’s return to custody, and she hadn’t been able to resist. How often did a collar like this fall into their laps, right here at home?

  How the hell was she supposed to know Wolf and his buddies were closing in on the same mark? She hadn’t realized until she’d recognized the guards surrounding an executive-type leaving a law office. A glance upward to a likely vantage, and she’d known she was in deep shit. Maybe she should have turned and walked away right that minute, but that wasn’t how she was wired.

  They neared a nondescript black SUV, and Wolf must have clicked the keyless remote. Lights flashed, locks snicked. He opened the back door and raised an eyebrow, telling her silently to get in. His expression looked set in granite.

  “What? I can’t ride in front with you?”

  “Seeing as you just became someone my team’s interested in interrogating, get your ass inside.”

  She huffed and let him cup the top of her head while she slipped into the back seat. A metal mesh partition separated the front and rear seating areas. Well, hell, he really intended to treat her like a damn perp. But she held her tongue, long enough for him to slide into the front seat, stow her weapon in the glove box, and tap the ignition key. In seconds, they were reentering the street. A quick glance down the sidewalk confirmed that his team had been quick to extract Ponce and Calvin. Likely Ponce was being moved to an emergency room where he’d be kept under armed guard while they dug out the bullet from his thigh. Calvin was most certainly being moved to HQ as well, although she doubted in such an embarrassing way. Still, she could imagine the volume of his ranting when next he saw her. Yes, he’d rant while her husband was giving her the silent treatment.

  “You’re mad,” she said, moving forward on her seat so she didn’t have to raise her voice to speak to Wolf.

  He shot her a glare in the rearview mirror. “What clued you in?”

  “Look, whatever you think this is…”

  His knuckles on the steering wheel whitened. “Do I think you just put your ass in the line of fire between me and a cartel assassin?”

  “Well, I guess you’d have that part right. I couldn’t let you kill him. If you did, how could I claim the takedown?”

  “You still can’t. You interfered with our operation. Our takedown.”

  “I’m the one with the blood on my hands and the bruises on my knees, buddy. I took him down.”

  “You wouldn’t have gotten near—and you might have caught a bullet yourself—if I hadn’t shot him first.”

  “Great shot by the way. Didn’t nick an artery or break the bone. Must have hurt like hell though.”

  “Don’t think sweet-talking me is getting you off light, Piper.”

  She sighed and settled back against the leather upholstery. “You really should have let me wash my hands first,” she said, grimacing.

  “Just…don’t talk.”

  “Fine.” She huffed a breath, and her silence lasted all of thirty seconds. “So, the guy your team was protecting…?”

  He shook his head and gave her another narrow-eyed glare in the mirror.

  She fidgeted. Patience wasn’t her long suit, although she had spent weeks on a stakeout in Mexico when she’d first met Wolf. But then she’d been able to fill her time, searching every nook and cranny of the house a drug pin’s girlfriend lived in, working out, checking out the hot dude in the house next door. And the bounty she and Calvin scored, with more than a little help from Wolf and his buddies at Charter, had certainly been worth the time spent.

  She glanced at his tight profile, at his grim expression, and some of her irritation faded. She understood what it was like, worrying about a spouse who took risks, not that Wolf did it because he was an adrenaline junkie, but because he was good at his job. A former SEAL, he’d never lose that sharp edge that had attracted her in the first place. Fact was, she liked his edginess, if not his deep silences. But she understood he’d seen things, and probably done some things, he’d really rather not discuss.

  For her part, she loved what she did. So, he really ought to be a little more understanding about the fact she was having a hard time dealing with the many changes she’d had to make in order for him to feel easier about her job.

  Sure, the Dallas-Fort Worth area was rife with little bounties to be earned—men and women who’d failed to make a court date for a DUI or a petty larceny rap. And she and Calvin were paying the bills with those jobs. Calvin was more satisfied with the slower pace and less risky action, but these past couple of months, she’d grown restless. Today’s jo
b was one she’d relished. A big bad with a huge payday, and she’s almost scored.

  For the next half hour, she sighed and tapped her foot, making sure Wolf knew she wasn’t happy about her current situation. Plus now, her arms were going numb, and she had to pee. “Are we there yet?” she snarled. But she didn’t really have to ask. The Charter Group’s building loomed ahead. Wolf slowed as he passed the guard at the gatehouse, who peered into the rear of the SUV and began to laugh.

  Piper simmered. Damn men. They stuck together like fucking glue.

  But she perked up as they rolled past the gatehouse, and she got her first up-close look at the “fortress”. Charter’s office building was five floors of concrete and steel surrounded by seven-foot concrete walls with coiled barbed wire fencing on top. The building could have housed any old offices, but Charter was a spec ops outfit, and as such, secretive. Wolf had never said much about the building itself, other than to mention that many of the offices were hardened against attack, with auxiliary power should the grid ever shut down.

  They drove into basement parking, with the entrance also guarded. When he pulled into a row of parking spaces with a line of similar black SUVs and cut the engine, she scooted toward the door. Wolf exited first, then opened the passenger door, letting her slide to the ground unassisted, but then he gripped her elbow and led her to a bank of elevators. He punched in a security code, pressed his right thumb against the fingerprint scanner, and the elevator dinged before the door opened.

  The trip upward was made in silence, but she was okay with that. Her curiosity kept her alert to the details—the shiny mirror-and-chrome walls, the camera in the upper right corner. When they reached the third floor, the elevator slid to a soft halt, the doors opened, and they stepped out on slate-colored tile floors. The walls were a deeper, bluer slate.

  He led her to a room marked “Interrogation 3,” entered another code, and opened the door. At last, he looked down at her. “Take a seat. Someone will be along in a bit.”