Never Mine: A Base Branch Novella (Titan World) Read online

  A shake of the head and waggle of the jaw restored a healthy buzz.

  “Fall back,” Winters barked. “They rigged this place to hell, and we’re fucked in here.”

  “You’re saying we retreat?” someone shot back.

  “No, asshole. I’m saying draw them out and pick ‘em off. I’m saying don’t get blown up.”

  “What’s going on?” Jared Westin demanded.

  “They have the place rigged.” Winters growled tactical maneuvers to Cash and Roman. “Cooper, can you climb out?”

  Jillian scanned the room. The cot and low cooktop put her three or more feet from the ceiling. “Negative.”

  “Hold your position. If you see any unfriendlies, eliminate them,” Winters directed.

  “Roger that.” She pressed her shoulder against the doorframe and waited.

  The pop-pop-pop of high-velocity rounds stung the night air. She blocked the noise and the incessant ringing and strained for the slightest sounds beyond her point. Shouts echoed from distant corridors. Footfalls thundered in the opposite direction. Seconds turned to minutes.

  “Cooper, you sure it’s in the central room?” Winters growled. “That’s a hell of a way to go with this many hostiles.”

  “That’s not what I said.” Jillian shook her head. “Your intel pointed us here.”

  “Intel I’m beginning to think was thinner than their reported number of soldiers.” Jared snarled into the remote link.

  “I said the energy pull is coming from that room. If they have the warhead, they need a cool place to keep it. But that pull could originate from a large computer or a tanning bed, for all I know.”

  Laughter filtered past the rapid fire of large rounds.

  “A tanning bed. Hilarious.” Roman cackled. “I’m getting a tan outside at three a.m.”

  The desert would do that to a man or woman in the dead of night and even inside. Dry, relentless heat stifled every breath.

  “Thinning out on my end,” Cash announced.

  “Still shit over here,” Rocco gritted.

  “Silent over here. Permission to move?” Jillian nodded, willing the answer she sought.

  “Affirmative. I’m headed to point B. Don’t shoot me,” Winters said.

  “And have Mia lock me in a strait jacket in a padded room for the rest of my days? I’d never.” Jillian moved slowly, methodically down the hallway. More quietly than a ghost, she cleared rooms one at a time, moving closer to the heart of danger.

  If the stolen nuclear warhead they’d been tracking for the last forty-eight hours was here, they’d have more than a sleeping night’s watchman guarding the thing. Unlike the last four rooms she’d cleared, the next one’s door stood wide open. A tingle of apprehension crawled up her spine. One inch at a time, she peered and then eased into the room.

  A dark, dirt-covered hand clamped around the barrel of her rifle and shoved it away. The move pushed her back to the corner. White teeth and wide, angry eyes appeared from behind the door, crowding her. Words flew from his lips too quickly for her to decipher.

  Infidel and die registered.

  Jillian palmed her K-Bar and aimed for the temple. One clean strike. The man went down in a heap. A quick scan showed an empty bunkroom. She retrieved her knife, gagged on bile, and sheathed the tool.

  She could do it. It didn’t mean she had to like it. Wires and timers were her thing. Time to find one, a big one. Back in the hallway, she took a right and braced for the firing squad she expected outside the door. The corridor remained eerily deserted.

  This was the room shown on the schematic. Her heart beat in her forehead and her pulse screamed in her ears. After two months of clearing IEDs from Middle Eastern town’s friendly to the Titan Group, she’d gotten the break she’d wanted. No, the break she’d needed—a full-time gig on the other side of the world. This was her chance to prove her worth to Titan and the world.

  “At the room.” In the open, Jillian placed her back against the wall and craned left to right.

  A body fell from the mouth of another hallway into hers.

  “Ditto.” Winters eased around the corner and jerked his head toward the door. “Check it. I’ve got your six.”

  Jillian searched for trip wires and sensors but found none, not even a proper door lock. She shook her head.

  “Me high. You low.” Winters held up his index finger and then middle. On three, he thrust the bottom of his boot just above the knob.

  The door splintered and swung wide.

  From behind the desk, a man lunged for his gun. Jillian fired. One shot. One kill. Winters took out the two-man security detail, standing with their rifles across their chests.

  They moved as a unit into the room, checking left and right.

  A massive computer and its cooling towers lined one wall.

  Disappointment used her lower intestines as dental floss. “Damn it.”

  “No warhead,” Winters relayed into the comms. “We have a mainframe that’s going to give you wet dreams, Parker.”

  “Hook me in and let me be the judge of that,” Parker Black chided.

  Jillian stowed her irritation for later and moved to guard the doorway better than the chumps who’d been inside it. Winters moved to the console. His fingers pecked across the keys.

  “Perimeter secure,” Cash reported.

  “Interior almost secure.” Roman’s grunts, the smacks of fists meeting flesh, and a satisfied sigh fed into the line. “Secure.”

  “Hold the building. It’ll take me a few minutes to see what we have,” Parker ordered. “But yeah, it looks like a world of fun for Lexi and me.”

  Safely back at Titan’s Middle Eastern headquarters—the Abu Dhabi hotel she now called home—Jillian marched into the war room. She slumped into the first open chair she found. Thank goodness, it was close to the door. If Tucker railed her too hard for the fuck-up, she could duck and run.

  “Hiya, doll.”

  Jillian peeled her chin from her chest and sought the owner of the Australian accent. The quintessential Bondi Beach heartthrob flashed her a wicked smile. She’d never seen the man in the war room or around the hotel. A quick scan showed several more new, smokin’ hot faces around the table. Australia’s bedroom eyes sizzled effortlessly but revealed more than the good Aussie probably ever realized. The come-here-and-let-me-roast-off-your-panties vibe defiantly hid something more intriguing, not that a hottie roasting off her panties wasn’t appealing. Too damn bad he was the wrong hot guy.

  “My name is Ryder.” He leaned in and offered his hand and a wink.

  “I’ll bet it is.” She eyed his hand as if it was a steel trap ready to take off her hand at the wrist.

  His grin bloomed. “You’re a saucy one, you. What’s your name?”

  “Cooper.” Jillian offered him a quick, no-nonsense handshake.

  “Well, that name doesn’t suit you at all. It’s a boy’s name, and you’re a stunning creature.” His gaze raked her top to bottom. “Made just as a woman should be.”

  “Cooper matches me and my balls just fine.” She gave him the universal suck-it gesture with two hands smacked sideways to the crotch.

  “Maybe you’ll show me later?” The corner of his mouth quirked, but the other half faltered enough to let her know she was getting to him. Most women probably fell to this guy’s feet, but boy, had he picked the wrong one to mess with and on the worst day. Her damn ears still rang.

  “Only if you let me shove them down your throat.” She stared at him with a world-record deadpan expression.

  A steamy Latino whistled across the table, pointed at Ryder, and said something in Portuguese. She really needed to brush up on her languages. Beside him, a pure-bred American hunk chuckled, while the man next to him whooped.

  “Delta team, I’d like you to meet, Jillian Cooper.” Winters sat at one end of the table and nodded toward her. “She’s our EOD. Don't fuck with her. She’ll blow you to pieces with a bomb made from the shit under your bathroom sink.”<
br />
  The entire room guffawed.

  “Cooper, these are the feral creatures we call Delta. This old bastard next to me is their fearless—or psychotic—leader, Brock Gamble.” Winters chucked the man on the shoulder.

  “Cooper.” Gamble touched a finger to his brow. “Looks like you fit in around here perfectly.”

  “That’s the best compliment I’ve ever had, sir.” Jillian tipped her hat to him.

  “So, Jillian, are you seeing anyone?” Ryder leaned in again.

  Jared strode into the room. Operatives, Titan and Delta alike, shut the hell up and followed his progress to the head of the table opposite Winters.

  “Eyes on the screens, everybody.” He looked at Parker, who sat behind a laptop clicking and typing furiously. “Here’s what we know. Last night’s mission wasn’t a total loss. Parker pulled off some useful intel. We’re waiting for a few more pieces to fit into place. As soon as we have confirmation on those, we move together. Two units but in sync.”

  He pointed at the first screenshot of a topographical map. “This is Al Hajar. You were two clicks off the mountain at today’s compound led by Talha Nassar, now deceased. His cousins, Sassoman and Jassim, own respective compounds here and here on two sides of the Green Mountain separated by one click. Also, Talha’s buyer has an outpost in Muscat. Judging by the intel we—and by we, I mean Parker—translated from the millions of encrypted data files, one of these three have the warhead. Or, most likely, are now trying to move it to a new location, since Talha has been compromised.”

  Jared cracked his knuckles and let his gaze meet each soldier in the room. “I don’t have to explain to you how important it is that we secure the missing warhead. But I will—”

  “Motherfucker.” Parker growled the curse word and typed three times as fast as he had a minute ago.

  Everyone’s gaze swung to the cool and collected ass-kicking computer genius. In the short time she’d been around the central team that comprised Titan, she’d never once heard or seen the man’s frustration. If Parker was ruffled, it was something big.

  “What is it?” Jared demanded.

  “Hacked. We’re getting fucking hacked.” Sweat collect on Parker’s brow. He threw off his headset and leaned closer to the screen.

  “Not possible. Your system is impenetrable,” Cash scoffed.

  “Look.” Rocco pointed at the screen.

  The information they’d been neck deep in had vanished. In its place, her picture and personnel file with more classified information than should be seen by even the highest levels of the intelligence community appeared as boldly as the sun on a desert day.

  “Why is that up there?” Jillian’s lips went numb, muffling her words. A cold sweat collected at her nape and charged down her spine.

  “Cut the main line.” Parker continued typing frantically.

  “We’ll lose our intel.” Jared’s chest puffed, and his jaw bunched.

  “If we don’t cut the main line, we won't have anything.” Sweat slipped down Parker’s nose onto his computer. “Someone else will have it. Your information. Your family’s information.”

  Jared lunged for the main line and yanked it out of the wall with both hands. Several guys around the table jumped up to help. The line ripped through sheetrock up to the ceiling. Rocco, the closest, scrambled forward with a multi-tool and severed the line.

  Parker’s typing didn’t let up a fraction.

  “Is it offline?” Jared bellowed.

  “Yes.” Parker shook his head.

  “Why the fuck are you shaking your head and saying, ‘yes.’ Either it is, or it isn’t.” Jared stalked to Parker’s side.

  Jillian couldn't breathe. Her picture still clung to the flat screen.

  “I’m backtracking to find out who the fuck did this, what they were after, and what they got.” Parker snarled at Jared. “Give me a fucking minute, okay? Yes, this is your organization and our intel, but this is my baby. Somebody just molested my airtight, doomsday prepped baby.”

  Everyone took a step back or sat with loud thuds. No one said a word.

  “If we cut the main line, how are you still online?” Jared asked.

  “Mobile hotspot, Boss Man. I don’t have time to explain further.” Parker typed and cussed under his breath, and Jared took another step back.

  Jillian swallowed past the lump in her throat but still no air filled her lungs. Next to her, the hair on Ryder’s arms stood on end. Around the room, everyone watched Parker’s every keystroke as if it were the last twenty seconds of the closest game the Super Bowl had ever seen.

  “No way.” Parker sighed and canted his head.

  “What, for the love of all the fucks, Parker?” Jared scrubbed a hand over his face.

  “What you see is what they were after.” Parker Black pointed at the one lit screen with her face on it. “And you’re never going to guess where the hack came from.” He reclined in his chair.

  “Christ, Parker. We’re not guessing. Spill it already,” Winters barked. Jared released his white-knuckled grip on the back of his chair and shook his fist at the computer genius.

  “Base Branch’s D.C. headquarters…” Parker tossed his hands up.

  If the sky would part and swallow her whole, she would go willingly.

  Parker continued, “…by a douchebag with the screen name SEAL the Deal.”

  Jillian fumbled for her heart, but the slippery bastard glided right through her fingers and onto the floor. She buried her head in her hands and waited for the inevitable.

  “I’m guessing you can answer a few questions for us,” Jared said.

  “Oh, fuck,” she whispered. Years of battle and bomb construction and disassembly—shit, not even junior high—could have prepared her for the embarrassment burning her cheeks. “He’s a friendly,” she mumbled from cover.

  “Doesn’t seem friendly, hacking into my baby like that,” Parker growled.

  Jillian shoved the hair from her face and straightened to face the firing squad. They all stared at her, awaiting an explanation.

  “It’s my fault. If only I had called him and let him know where I was…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “Why didn’t you?” Jared asked.

  “He’s the reason I’m on the other side of the world.” Jillian shrugged.

  “Has he hurt you?” the steamy Latino growled.

  “No,” she snapped. “Callum would never hurt me.”

  “Hmmm.” Winters popped a handful of Dots into his mouth, grinned, and chewed.

  “What, hmmm?” she snapped.

  “Little Jilly’s on the lam.” Cash chuckled.

  “On the lam from love,” Winters finished.

  “Screw you both. It’s not like that.” Jillian crossed her arms over her chest, huffed, and slammed against the back of her seat.

  “Yeah.” Jared’s lips pursed. “We’ve had more than a few of our own on the run from love. It’s never like that until it is.” He shrugged a stalwart shoulder and then turned to Parker. “How long until we’re up and running again?”

  “Ten, fifteen minutes.” Parker swiped at the sweat on his brow and turned to Jillian. “Friendly or not, I need to talk to this guy. No one has ever hacked my baby, and I need to know exactly how he did it. I needed to know yesterday so I can keep it from ever happening again.”

  “I’m sure Cooper will be more than happy to pick up the phone and get her old friend over here ASAP.” Jared smiled and lifted two palms in surrender. “Kidding. I have an old friend in Base Branch who’ll scare some sense into this guy.”

  “He doesn’t scare easily.” Jillian couldn’t keep her mouth shut. After a reprieve like that, she should. If Parker only needed him for security purposes, maybe she could get out of seeing Callum at all.

  Jared simply smirked. “In the meantime, everyone pack your gear and be ready to roll in one hour. We have a nuclear warhead to retrieve.”

  4

  Callum glared at the screen, willing the wo
rds to change. They refused to bend.

  Abu Dhabi.

  Jillian’s D.C. condo was occupied by a middle-aged woman with three kids and an obese cat because she’d sold it to move to the middle of the God-forsaken desert on the other side of the world.

  He clamped his hands together and dropped them to the tops of his legs. Inside him, rage swirled in tight circles, juggling swords and flaming batons. Try as he might to shove them aside and focus on no more than the inhale and exhale of the next breaths, sharp and sizzling edges gored deep. The lances hit healing flesh, tearing it into gaping lacerations.

  Cord Strong shoved through the front door with two steaming cups and a small paper bag clamped between his teeth. He stopped short in the foyer and removed the bag, pinching it between his index finger and a cup. “Bruh, I talk you out of your fury—as silent as it might be—dip out for less than five, only to return to your insane form of non-violent, violent temper tantrum. What the hell?”

  If Callum moved right now, he’d tear his house apart from foundation to rafters. Palms together, he focused on the one thing that brought him solace. The girls’ precious faces refocused his mind’s eye. Only this time, rage for their loss amplified his own.

  “It worked once, so let’s rehash for posterity. She asked for distance, you gave it to her, and now, she’s MIA.” Cord continued into the living room and set a cup on the coffee table next to the cursed computer.

  Why were they rehashing? Over the last four months, he’d done it in his head a million and one times.

  “Why’d you give her the space to run?”

  That was a new question—one he didn’t want to answer to himself, much less out loud, even if Cord was his good friend and hacker mentor.

  His friend kicked back opposite the TV as if it was actually on and streaming the History Channel.

  “What was I supposed to do?” Callum clenched his hands together until his forearms shook.

  “Tell her how you feel.” The blond billionaire, Green Beret, and computer genius on loan from his family’s company, Stronghold Technologies, shrugged like dropping a bomb as devastating as Hiroshima wasn’t a big deal.