Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Sign Up for Paige Tyler's Newsletter
PROLOGUE
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
BODYGUARD SEAL
SEALs of Coronado
Paige Tyler
Copyright © 2021 by Paige Tyler
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission from the author.
Editing by Jennifer Jakes / The Killion Group, Inc.
Copyediting by RVP Editing
With special thanks to my extremely patient and understanding husband, without whose help and support I couldn’t have pursued my dream job of becoming a writer. You’re my sounding board, my idea man, my critique partner, and the absolute best research assistant any girl could ask for!
Thank you.
Sign up for Paige Tyler’s New Releases mailing list and get a FREE copy of SEAL of HER DREAMS!
Click here to get started!
http://www.paigetylertheauthor.com
PROLOGUE
Sana’a, Yemen
EVERYTHING LOOKS GOOD on this side,” Petty Officer First Class, Noah Bradley, murmured into his mic as he surveyed the industrial building across the street through his night vision scope, noting the three people moving around the enclosed compound. “No indication they’re aware we’re here.”
Half a dozen different voices called out confirmation over the radio, but fellow SEAL Teammate Chief Chasen Ward was the only one he recognized. Another indication of how big of a goat rope this damn operation had turned into over the course of the past two days. Talk about too many cooks spoiling the broth. He just prayed things went smoothly.
Noah ignored the background chatter of other people calling out their location as they moved into support positions around the large square building he and everyone else would be entering in a few minutes. He couldn’t help but notice the ridiculous amount of unnecessary babble. As far as radio communication went, Noah and his Teammates only spoke to each other once to start the entry and then not again until the shit hit the fan. Clearly, all the nonstandard players involved in this operation didn’t like to do the same.
He let out a snort as he flipped his night vision goggles back down.
Nonstandard players was a good way to describe Interpol and the U.S. Department of Treasury. Okay, maybe that wasn’t fair. Interpol did occasionally take part in various international law enforcement operations, but the Treasury Department? Hell, he didn’t even realize their agents owned tactical equipment. Then again, everything about this operation was unusual, so why not the people involved?
This mission was merely one part of a bigger world-wide effort with fourteen raids going off around the globe, all synchronized to happen at the exact same moment, so the bad guys wouldn’t be able to warn each other what was coming. The objective? Taking down the largest terrorist funding organization in existence. The location they were at here in Yemen was supposedly pumping somewhere in the neighborhood of a hundred million dollars a year into various terrorist operations around the globe. Toss in the other ones throughout Eastern Europe, Asian, Africa, and South America and you were talking billions. With a capital “B.”
The crazy thing was that according to the intel they’d gotten, Noah and his Teammates weren’t likely to find the two things terrorists liked to fund their operations with—drugs and human trafficking—in this raid. Instead, these bad guys made their money through pirating bootleg downloads of music, movies, and books, along with mountains of knockoff Air Jordans, Gucci handbags, and iPhones.
Noah had to admit that books and purses weren’t exactly the first things that popped into his head when he thought of piracy, but apparently both were huge in the world of terrorism.
“No sign of Magpie,” someone announced over the radio in his earpiece.
Magpie was the code name for the financier who allegedly led the world-wide piracy operation. No one knew the guy’s real name, or even where he was from. Just that he was some kind of international businessman, rich in his own right, and apparently in the habit of collecting pretty, shiny things. Hence the bizarre nickname.
Magpie was supposed to be here tonight, which was part of the reason they’d waited to raid the place until now and not gone in when they’d gotten into the country three days ago. The possibility of capturing the man pulling the strings would be a huge win for the good guys, not only taking billions out of the terrorist coffers, but also giving them the person who’d practically written the book on funding terrorist operations around the world.
“Entry team, this is Alpha Lead,” a voice said over the radio, intruding on his thoughts. “We’re not waiting any longer for Magpie and have gotten the clearance to move. World-wide go is in two minutes.”
Noah bit his tongue to stop himself from cursing out loud. Glenn Woods was the senior Treasury Department agent on this operation. Sometimes, he came across as okay, but other times— like now—he seemed pompous as all hell. Alpha Lead? WTF?
He was still thinking about that when he heard Chasen call out that the entry team was on the move. Noah immediately pushed the button on the mic, signaling he heard the command. Four more clicks quickly followed as Sam Travers, Wes Marshall, and Lane Robbins, the recent transfer from one of the other platoons in SEAL Team 5, all responded.
Noah slipped over the parapet that encircled the roof he’d been perched atop for the past few fours, sliding down the rope he’d left hanging there earlier. Sticking to the shadows, he swiftly moved across the street to the mud and brick wall that surrounded the compound, heading toward the low section along the back that he’d identified as his entry point when the mission had first gotten the green light.
As he ran along the base of the rough stone wall, Noah found himself subconsciously paying attention to his left knee, mindful of even the slightest twinge of pain
