Blurb ~ Two Turtle Doves must save the throne of the most powerful church in the world before a terrorist act destroys it and all hope for Christmas.
When Navy Seal Team leader, Charlie Stein is paired with Operations Analyst Aria Lockett, he is annoyed. Having the burden of an Analyst on a field mission was not a headache he wanted to endure.
Operations Analyst Aria Lockett has been tracking The White Guard Terrorist cell for years. When they finally get a strong lead on an upcoming attack, she is ready to put an end to their terrorist reign once and for all.
With an imminent attack scheduled for Christmas Day in Rome, the pair must work together to thwart the threat. The unease between them quickly turns to trust and unexpected desire. When the terror cell is alerted to their plan, can they remain focused and save Christmas or will their growing feelings cloud their judgment and destroy the path of hope?
Excerpt ~
Stein watched the lightly freckled redhead look him over before diverting her eyes to her phone. She walked past him for he assumed privacy. He took a seat at the table where she’d sat, looking over the scattered documents, noticing her empty cup of coffee he grabbed it and moved to the coffee station, hearing pieces of her conversation on the phone.
“I'd like to restate our commitment to helping you find some answers. No, I understand the meaning of proprietary – do you understand the meaning of collusion?”
Damn
Stein filled up both cups of coffee, noticing she had cream and a hint of hazelnut from the smell of the cup. He bent opening the mini-refrigerator beneath the coffee station. A bottle of hazelnut creamer sat on the door. He added the cream, grabbing two filled cups and returned to the table.
“Correct.” Stein watched her brow furrow, before she swept her hand through her hair. “We need to know the specific chemical contents of those canisters.”
Stein put the cups on the table and removed his dress jacket, hanging it in the cabin closet before unbuttoning the top of his shirt and loosening his tie. She returned to the table, picking up the cup of refilled coffee, taking a sip while she listened to the person on the phone.
“Uh, no, I am in charge. What do you want me to say? We are talking about an imminent terrorist threat. Yes, well—I see. No, I understand…All right. Get back to me with the chemical breakdown of what…this is the number. And how long—I'll be expecting your call.” She hung up the phone and tossed it on the table. “Asshole.”
“Araena lawyers giving you a hard time?” Stein snickered.
“Yes, and imminent threat or collusion has no meaning – wait how did you know that’s who I was talking to?” Aria glared, picking up her cup of coffee.
“I recognized the photos. Araena Pharmaceuticals burnt to the ground last week. From the tidbits of the conversation – not that I was eavesdropping—those canisters are missing, or Araena is stating they were empty. Also, you wrote down the name Geoff Vlakin and underlined it twice. Vlakin was the only reported death in the Araena fire. My guess is mister Vlakin was the creator of what was in them – likely not a cure for Cancer—and has miraculously turned up somewhere in Paris.” He extended his hand, “Charlie Stein.” She took it with a firm grip.
“Aria Lockett.” She nodded at the cup in her hand. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“No problem.”
The cabin door opened, and a man stepped down the aisle, “Sorry, I’m late.”
“Wes Giddings, this is Charlie Stein from ST five.”
Stein rose extending his hand once more.
“You must be Wheeler’s man,” Wes shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“That I am.”
“Thanks for the heads up, Wes.” Aria flopped into her seat with a long breath.
“There was no time.” Wes shrugged and put his go-bag on one of the seats.
“Understatement of the year,” Aria muttered under her breath. Wes took a seat at the table on the opposite side of the aisle pulling out a laptop. The pilot came over the intercom announcing their departure.
“Wes, would you call Langley? We're waiting for Krandif's psych profile.” Aria glanced at Wes.
“He's an asshole. I'll save you the red tape.” Stein sat snacking on a bag of peanuts.
“Thanks. I'll go with the official version.”
“Ok. Officially, he's an asshole. What’s the connection?”
“Vlakin was spotted going in The Ice House two nights ago.” Aria handed him the photo.
Stein scanned the photo and then tossed it onto the table. “So, we are headed to Paris.”
Aria collected the photo, her face scrunched, placing it neatly on the stack of papers beside her computer. “If we can find Vlakin, we can find the canisters.”
“Krandif is an enabler, not a terrorist. Which is good, makes him predictable.” Stein slid into the seat directly across from Aria, still popping peanuts in his mouth.
Aria put her elbows on the table clasping her hands together. “He’s a criminal.”
Stein leaned across the table, meeting her gaze “But not a terrorist.”
Wes twisted in his chair closer to join the conversation. ”How do you know?”
“Krandif’s sole motivation is money, always has been, throw him enough cash and he’ll dig up his mother.” Stein rested his leg up onto his thigh and popped a few more peanuts in his mouth before looking distractedly into the bag.
Bafoon
“Your area of expertise, Stein? Or so has the word on the Hill.” Aria’s focus went back to her computer screen.
Stein nodded his head. “You've been doing your research.”
“Dangerous times.”
“I'd like to know something,” Stein tossed the empty bag of peanuts on the table before putting his arms on the table and facing Aria. “How exactly does a top-rated field agent get stuck behind a desk?”
“A choice.”
“So, it's that simple?”
“It is to me, that simple.” Aria met his gaze. “You've done some research yourself.”
“Like you said, dangerous times.” Stein pulled his gaze away, uncomfortable with the warmth pooling in his gut. “All this data, charts and intel tell you nothing.”
Wes tilted his head, looking to Stein. “Why’s that?”
“In the field, the good guys, that's us, chase the bad guys, and they don't wear black hats.”
Aria glared at Wes and then Stein, “if you recall, I was a field operative. I do know how it works in the field.”
“Then you already know, the bad guys are, however, all alike. They mandate power and respect, and they'll pay top dollar to get it.”
“Not these guys,” Aria shook her head, straightening her back. “The White Guard has other motivations they don't care about money or respect. They believe killing innocent people is vindicated. For them, it is about rage, frustration, and hatred. An excruciating pain they endure and want to share it.”
“You see, that does me no good,” Stein shook his head, tapping his finger on the table. “Let's deal with the facts at hand. One week ago, a German scientist walked away with five large canisters of what we can only assume is a bioweapon. Krandif and Vlakin’s motivation is money.”
“I know that, Stein. I could care less about Vlakinor or Kardif,” Aria rose from her seat moving to the coffee maker.
“Then what are we doing going to Paris? What’s the point?” Stein stood challenging her eyes.
Aria straightened her shoulders and stepped into his space, “the point is, I want to know who is buying the weapon to use it. Because that person is not interested in money, they have it to spend. They are interested in hurting a lot of people, and I intend to stop them.”
~
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