Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 109245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Their pilot met them halfway and introduced himself.
“Lieutenant Colonel Grant Kincaid, Ravens Air Unit, Retired US Air Force.”
His voice was steady and full of pride, his handshake firm and brisk.
“Lock in, we’re airborne in two minutes.”
Gage didn’t know their pilot’s credentials, but he assumed no one ended up flying them if they weren’t the best.
Inside, it wasn’t just a chopper. It was a luxurious flying command center.
The leather seats were ergonomic and butter-soft leather, the cabin lighting adjustable—so he was told—and technical panels restructured for vision-impairment were at his fingertips.
His assistant for flight and field missions took his arm in his and moved him through the cabin on a quiet tour, describing everything with professional brevity.
He ran his palm along the edges of surfaces, building a map in his head. He liked knowing where everything was. He liked knowing that if something went sideways, he wouldn’t be searching.
Roz and the field team began checking gear and running comms tests.
He and Scar were supposed to sit and get their heads synced and ready.
The rotors whirred and the cabin vibrated as he settled into his seat.
Before he could get comfortable, Scar took his hand and squeezed. “Com’ere.”
Gage let him lead him to their private suite.
The door shut behind him, and Scar turned and kissed him. It wasn’t a consuming kiss. It was warm, chaste, and gentle, as if he were being careful not to rouse something forbidden.
Gage knew they weren’t supposed to do anything romantic on a mission, but his body leaned into it anyway.
“We can’t do this right now,” he said, knowing Scar could hear the need in his voice.
Scar didn’t argue as he rested his forehead against his, breathing him in.
“I know,” he said. “I just missed you.”
The simplicity of that confession from such a savage man touched Gage’s heart.
Scar brushed his thumbs over his knuckles. “After this, if everything goes well—when it goes well—I requested the team go back to HQ, and we’re going to get away for a little while.”
Gage blinked. “And go where?”
“To Riviera Maya for a day. It’s a private resort South of Cancun.” Scar stroked his cheek. “I need you to myself. Jo already approved it, as long as I allow a shadow team to come too.”
A smile formed before he could stop it. Scar had just given him the relief he needed.
He’d been nervous all week—ever since Scar turned him down at his door after their carnival date.
The next morning, the mission notice hit like a hammer and they’d been swallowed by preparations. There’d been no more alone time, only recon, training, briefings, and a few hours of sleep a night.
“Whatever you’ve got planned…I’ll do.” Gage kissed Scar’s rough cheek. “Wherever you go, Scar…I’ll follow.”
Scar tightened his grip. “But for now, we focus on our first solo mission. You know all eyes are on us.”
“I know.”
Gage was ready, he sensed Scar was as well.
They returned to the main cabin as the helicopter cut through the air toward the coast.
White Ravens
Scar
Outside the window of their modest three-star motel on Colima’s outskirts, palms and bright plazas sat under the silhouettes of its famous volcanoes.
The mission location looked tropical from a distance and smelled of warm pavement, humid earth, and the bright bite of tropical leaves.
It was a pretty view, but it was the stark opposite of a place to vacation.
Colima’s beauty masked a reputation for cartel drug routes, trafficking territory wars, and violence that sprang-up without warning.
Scar didn’t give a damn about the sights or statistics.
He cared about success.
On the table was the identical drive, a corrupted decoy of fake information, built to make the foreign cartel leader believe he’d been betrayed by the United States DEA agent who was trading classified information in exchange for half a million dollars.
He and Gage’s job was to retrieve it, swap it, and burn the alliance, as quietly and covertly as possible.
Their threat class was Alpha, meaning there was an unlikely chance of counterattack, but not impossible.
Scar slid the decoy disk between his gloved fingers.
“Scar, you got a three-minute blackout window to get inside and up to the third floor,” Roz informed him. “From there, the guards are on a two-minute rotation.”
Scar shut the small case. “Plenty of time.”
Roz opened his mouth as though he wanted to tell him not to get cocky, but he’d seen him steal before.
He stood behind Gage, close enough to feel his heat.
“You ready, Saint?” he asked.
Gage turned his head slightly. “I’ll keep you safe, don’t worry.”
“I won’t.”
Behind him, the field team’s voices sounded in his earpiece.
“Field to Command,” the lead said. “Confirm green on feeds and mainframe control.”
A few seconds passed.
“You’re green,” Command replied. “Reading you loud and clear.”
Roz nodded at Scar and Gage. “You’re green.”
Scar waited for their field snipers to take out the guards at the back entrance. When their bodies dropped, he and Gage slipped inside and cut straight for the stairwell.