Betrayed (Hostage Rescue Team Series Book 9)
Read Betrayed (Hostage Rescue Team Series Book 9) Online
Authors: Kaylea Cross
Betrayed
Copyright © 2016
by
Kaylea Cross
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Cover Art by
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.
ISBN: 978-1-928044-14-7
To Kara and Stacey. Thanks for not only coming to Hawaii with me, but for also introducing me to the joys of the beach umbrella. Who knew that was the secret to filling in plot holes? Here’s to more tropical plotting sessions in our future! Love you guys.
(Also, women who practice room-clearing techniques with coat hangers while wearing cocktail dresses are totally
BADASS
. Just saying.)
Kaylea xoxo
Dear readers,
This one’s for all of you HRT fans who fell in love with Bautista as hard as I did in
Exposed
. If there was ever a villain who deserved a chance at redemption and a happy ending, it’s him.
Up next will be Blackwell’s story, the final book of the HRT series (*sniffle*) and I plan to make it gut-wrenching. Better buckle up!
Happy reading!
Kaylea Cross
Miguel “el Santo” Bautista stayed perfectly still as he read the last section of the amended contract before him, aware of the man and woman staring at him from across the table.
At first he’d thought it was some kind of joke when the NSA had approached him for recruitment three weeks ago. They’d offered him what amounted to a fancy reduced sentence in exchange for his services but he’d smelled their desperation and upped the ante by demanding a full pardon. Among other things.
Negotiations had been ongoing ever since, and against all odds, they were offering him everything he’d wanted in this final contract. He’d lost most of his assets, of course, which were seized and frozen by the IRS.
But not all of them. The government hadn’t found them all, and his resourcefulness, along with his background in business and economics, had allowed him to bury his investments well. From what he could tell, he still had a sizeable sum in the Caymans that had thus far gone undiscovered.
He didn’t say a word as he finished reading, kept his expression blank to hide his surprise. His military background and work as a contract killer had taught him how to mask his emotions. Emotion made a person weak, could get a man killed in this business.
He’d thought this through carefully. On the one hand, he didn’t want to aid the NSA in capturing the mysterious Georgia Randall. On the other, he desperately wanted to see her again. And working with the NSA was the only way to make that happen.
In the end, the driving need to see her won out.
Satisfied by the terms—though unsure at this point if he would fulfill the length of the term specified in the contract—he picked up the pen and signed his name on the line, then slid the document back to the man opposite him. Alex Rycroft, a former SF soldier and renowned NSA agent in his early fifties.
Those piercing eyes, more silver than gray in this light, locked on Bautista and the corner of his mouth lifted in a hint of a smile. “Glad to have you on board.”
Before he could answer, Rycroft nodded at another male agent, standing at the rear of the room. The man approached Bautista and removed first the ankle restraints, then the ones around his wrists. But the tracking device, wherever they’d implanted it on him during his last surgery, remained in place. A hidden reminder that they didn’t trust him, that they owned him.
He rubbed his wrists, flexed them. It felt so strange to have the cuffs off after wearing them for the past four months, even while recovering from the bullet wounds that should have killed him.
Well, technically he
had
died that day back in June, flat lining twice. The medical staff had brought him back each time. For months he’d resented their efforts, hating that they’d saved him just to subject him to a lifetime of misery, but now he realized he’d lived for a reason.
This.
To see Georgia again.
“So, down to business?” Briar Jones said. The young woman slid another folder across to him.
Even though he already suspected what it contained, a jolt still shot through him when he saw Georgia’s ice-blue eyes staring back at him from the photograph. Looking at her was like a punch to the gut, and he struggled to mask his reaction. His memories of her had haunted him for months.
Back in Miami he’d known and fallen for her as Julia. But had he really known her at all? The caring volunteer he’d met at his grandmother’s nursing home and the cool-headed operator he’d seen during that boat chase and shootout in Miami were two totally different people.
Which made sense, considering it turned out she was a government-trained assassin. A trained killer, just like him.
God, he still couldn’t believe she’d fooled him so completely.
Now the NSA was planning to use him as the lure to draw her out of hiding. Counting on the fact that she would care about him enough to reveal herself when she learned he was alive, that he was searching for her.
Seemed like a huge gamble to him, and he knew there had to be more to the big picture than the NSA merely wanting to bring Georgia in to recruit her for the agency. But once they located her, he wanted to find out just how much of what they’d shared had been real, and how much had been pure lies and manipulation on her part. Because not knowing that was eating him up inside.
If she’d lied, he’d walk away without a backward glance. He didn’t forgive, and he never forgot.
And yet…some part of him stubbornly refused to believe it had all been a scam. There had been a true emotional connection between them, he was sure of it. The part that scared him most was the prospect of finding out he was wrong about that.
He quickly read the notes someone had compiled on Georgia. She was wanted for questioning regarding several open cases involving former government agents and people linked with the Fuentes cartel.
All murders.
Reading that part wasn’t a shock now that he knew her true identity, but it helped fill in some of the blanks when he thought back to the way she’d handled herself in Miami. So brave, especially considering she’d suffered a gunshot wound to the forearm.
He looked up at Briar, met her dark brown stare. She knew Georgia personally, had been trained with her. That’s all he knew. Did the agency have a lead? “When was this reported?”
“That last part, yesterday at sixteen-hundred hours. We don’t have a confirmed sighting of her yet but our latest intel suggests she’s likely in the D.C. area.”
He hated not knowing the details. One of the reasons he’d been so good at what he did was because of the meticulous research and prep he put into each and every op. His reputation as the most ruthless enforcer in the cartel was well earned.
“Who is she after?” he asked, his voice rough as sandpaper. The bullet scar beneath the base of his throat had given him a permanent rasp that made him sound as sinister as his rep.
“Word is she’s targeting two remaining people on her hit list, who for whatever reason she thinks are involved with the murder of her former handler. Based on the possible targets we’ve compiled, we’ve narrowed our focus to five people. One is a former trainer of ours who lives in the D.C. area. Two are other men involved in the program we were part of, and the remaining two are linked to the Fuentes cartel. My money’s on the trainer. The second target, I’m not so sure about. But I’m betting you’d have a pretty good idea about who she might be after in the Fuentes cartel.”
Considering that he’d been the enforcer for one of Fuentes’s top lieutenants, yeah, he’d bet so too. But he sensed she was about to press him for information he wasn’t willing to give.
“I’m not discussing Perez again,” he said flatly. “That wasn’t part of the deal and it’s not on the table for negotiations.” As far as he knew, his former boss and the man’s family had gone into hiding when Bautista was taken into custody, and he hoped Perez stayed off the government’s radar. He refused to turn on the man who’d been his mentor and most loyal friend throughout the past turbulent seven years.
Briar exchanged a glance with Rycroft before looking back at him. “He’s going to come up as part of the investigation.”
“And if you refuse to cooperate you’ll be in breach of contract, according to section 32.6 of the document you just signed,” Rycroft added.
Bautista didn’t answer. He’d read the section. It was worded just vaguely enough to allow for a loophole about disclosure of knowledge, but whether it held up in court would depend on which judge’s desk it landed on. He was willing to risk it.
After a moment of tense silence, Briar spoke. “Back to the matter at hand. We start recon tonight.”
He studied his new teammates in silence. He’d worked alone for so long, preferred it that way. No need to worry about whether he could trust others during an operation.
He’d had total freedom of movement and choice of action. It had been years since he’d operated as part of a team, back in his military days. The idea of being constrained by rules and regulations chafed but he’d known it was coming and didn’t have a choice at this point anyway.
Besides, he was only doing this for the expunged record, and for the chance to see Georgia again.
“You and I will stake out a fundraising event the former trainer is attending,” she continued, “while Alex monitors the situation from another location with his team.”
“And what about the threat against her? Have you found anything?”
“Nothing specific. But the people she’s targeting know she’s out there and will want her taken out before she can attack,” Rycroft said.
He was lying. They knew something.
It irritated him that Rycroft didn’t explain more or give names, even though Bautista understood his refusal to share details. They’d purposely left him in the dark about Georgia’s agenda until now, and most of her history was still a huge blank. He was on a need to know basis and they made sure to remind him of that at every opportunity.
Briar nodded, her dark brown hair shining in the fluorescent lights overhead. “We’ve got to bring her in before someone else finds her, and before she racks up an even higher body count that will put her behind bars for the rest of her life.” She paused a moment. “It’s not too late for her to get her life back.”
The line shouldn’t have tugged at the heartstrings he liked to pretend he didn’t have, but it did. Despite all his suspicion and questions about Georgia, his gut told him it hadn’t all been a lie. That she
had
cared about him. Hell, it had to be. He’d seen the way she’d grieved when she thought he was dying in front of her.
He straightened. If there was any shred of truth to the feelings he’d thought she had for him, then he had to protect her, bring her in safely before anything happened to her. “I’m gonna need some equipment.”
Briar gave him a slow smile. “We’ve got you covered.”
****
Georgia Randall raced up the concrete steps to the motel room and checked the anti-intruder devices she’d placed on the door. Finding them still intact, she jammed the key into the lock.
The moment she opened the door to her room, a wave of stale, cigarette smoke-tinged air hit her. Quickly shutting and locking the door behind her, she rushed to the closet and hauled out her gear: a go bag and her weapons.
