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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