Contents
Title Page
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
About the Author
DEADLY GAME
Rebecca Deel
Cover Design: Melody Simmons
Copyright © 2017 Rebecca Deel
All rights reserved.
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To my amazing husband, the love of my life.
CHAPTER ONE
Brent Maddox sat back in his chair, scanning the screens which filled one wall of his office. Of particular interest was the all-news station coverage of unrest in the Chihuahua province of Mexico. The political situation in Mexico was never stable, but this part of the country appeared more destabilized than normal.
A glance at the clock and his mind turned automatically to thoughts of coffee. Maybe he’d arrive before his favorite coffee shop closed. A short laugh slipped out. Provided the traffic cooperated. Rush hour in Nashville, Tennessee looked like prime drive time in Atlanta or Los Angeles. Gridlock. If he didn’t need access to the airports, he’d move his headquarters to the countryside to avoid the traffic.
His cell phone signaled an incoming call. Brent glanced at the screen, sat up. Blocked number. His stomach knotted. Only one person with a blocked number called his personal cell. “Hello, Mr. President.”
William Martin, President of the United States, chuckled. “How are you, Brent?”
“Doing well, sir. How is your daughter?”
“Fantastic.” Martin’s obvious pride in his family came through the phone’s speaker. “Sam is growing up too fast and Charlotte is a great mother.”
Brent grinned. “And Griff?”
“He’ll do for a son-in-law.”
That brought laughter from Brent. Knowing Martin’s time was limited, he asked, “What do you need, sir?”
“A favor. I need a team.”
“Where and when?”
“Not sure on the timing. The place is Mexico.”
Brent froze. “Chihuahua province?”
“I take it you’re watching the news feeds.”
His gaze skated back to the screen covering the fires and clashes between the federales and the cartel. “Mission?”
“Evacuating the Mexican ambassador’s family. Roberto’s wife, Marta, was visiting her mother in Lucero when the fighting started. She’s safe for now, holed up in her mother’s home. No one knows Marta and the girls are there.”
That situation wouldn’t hold. People liked to gossip. Sometime soon, either Marta’s mother or someone else would let the information slip. “Why not use official means to retrieve the Alvarez family? Protecting state department personnel is expected.”
“Diplomatic relations are already strained between the U.S. and Mexico.”
“Sending an unsanctioned team won’t cause problems?”
Silence from the president.
“You need deniability.”
“I’ll apologize to the Mexican president after my people are safe.”
“I see.” Martin didn’t trust the federales to rescue the ambassador’s family. Word would leak of the impending rescue attempt, making Marta and the kids a target. Secrecy was a dream in the Mexican government, poverty a great motivator for accepting a bribe for information. “How many children?”
“Two, ages five and seven.”
“Where do you want the family taken? Back to their home in Mexico City or the U.S.?”
“U.S. The ambassador had several death threats in the last month. The cartel isn’t happy with his rhetoric.”
No surprise. His stance on drugs and guns wasn’t popular with the groups that made their living by both. Brent had also heard rumors of them expanding their business enterprise. He had feelers out to learn the direction of the expansion. “We’ll be ready.”
When the call ended, Brent mentally reviewed the positions of his teams. Durango had just completed a mission. Adam Walker was still recovering and had yet to be assigned a new team. Brent’s other teams were in the middle of operations with the exception of Trent St. Claire’s. Guess they would get the nod.
Wouldn’t make St. Claire happy. He’d been hinting about taking time off to hunt. Brent’s lips curved. The only hunting that interested St. Claire involved a pretty nurse. Made him wonder if another operative was about to leave his bachelor days behind.
Brent shut down his computer. He paused in the doorway, surprised to note dim lighting in the outer office and hallway. Guess he was the last one to leave this floor. There were others in the building. Someone always manned the communications center and medical treatment room.
He glanced into the comm center on his way to the elevator. “Zane, why are you still here?”
His chief tech spun his wheelchair around. “I’m waiting for Claire. She’s meeting me here after her photo shoot.” He shrugged. “Figured I’d be useful until then.”
He nodded. “Get word to St. Claire and his team. They may be activated soon.”
Zane grabbed his laptop. “Location?”
“Lucero, Mexico.”
His tech’s typing paused. “Chihuahua province.”
“Tell them to be prepared for anything. Marta Alvarez and her daughters are visiting Marta’s mother. Right now, they’re holed up in the house with no one the wiser.”
A snort from Zane. “Won’t last. I’ll pass the warning to St. Claire.”
“Where is he?”
“Where else? Otter Creek, romancing that pretty nurse.”
Figured as much. “And his team?”
“Still in town.” Zane grinned. “They don’t have pretty nurses to pursue.”
“Keep the jets fueled and ready. We may have to move fast.”
With a wave, Brent resumed his journey to the elevator. Once in his SUV, he inched his way down Harding Place toward Interstate 24. He growled at more than one car or truck weaving in and out of the creeping traffic. Brent wanted that coffee so badly he could almost taste it. He would not be happy if he missed a chance to sip the best brew in town.
Because he never lied to himself, he acknowledged that while the coffee was great, he was more interested in seeing the owner of the small shop. And, yeah, he felt stupid, like a hormone-ridden teenager at the thought of seeing Rowan Scott. Black hair, brown eyes, lush lips, tall enough he didn’t have to fold himself in half to look her in the eyes. Being six-foot-four had drawbacks. Not a problem since Rowan was about five-ten, the perfect height for him.
Not that it mattered. He’d yet to get up enough nerve to ask her
