The Omega Team_Spurs Read online

  “Grey,” Carson said, “I think you can call us an Omega family now. See you next week.”

  The Omega Team Bibliography

  The Stories by Desiree Holt

  Raw Edge of Danger - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B018PH0UU...

  Mission Control - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B018PH0W3...

  Lethal Design - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B018PH0WS...

  February Releases:

  The Lion by Cerise DeLand - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01BW643N...

  Keeping Karen by Heather Long - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01BW6442...

  Precious Cargo by Brenna Zinn - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01BW6444...

  Assisting Aimee by Susan Stoker - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01BW6445...

  The Soviet Connection by Kate Richards - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01BW644C...

  Buffalo Undercover by N Kuhn - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01BW6444...

  Texas Standoff - Sable Hunter - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01BW6444...

  Before the Bang Shift by Mandy Harbin - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01BW6442...

  Hot Rod by Sabrina York - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01BW6442...

  Hot Target by Jordan Dane - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01BW6447...

  May Releases:

  Cyber Tracked by Eliza March

  Tough Target by Jordan Dane

  Spurs by Kate Richards

  ETHAN by Lindsay Cross

  An Excerpt from The Soviet Connection by Kate Richards

  Chapter One

  Carson Ames clicked a button on the dash of his brand shiny new car. The windshield wipers clicked on, swishing back and forth as he cursed under his breath. For a man who took advantage of high-tech equipment in his work every day, he had one heck of a time accustoming himself to a new vehicle. Punching at the dash, he finally found the button that answered the phone.

  The assignment he’d just completed had about kicked his butt. Being the temporary second bodyguard to a young lady from a foreign royal family who convinced her doting daddy to allow her to try out spring break with her US college roommates had held even less charm than he’d anticipated. However, it was difficult to say no to the incredible fee he’d been paid.

  “Grey. I’m just leaving the airport, what’s up?”

  “Turn around. We need you to hop a plane out again.” Grey Holden, his boss and one of the owners of The Omega Team spoke in clipped tones, and Carson bit back an argument. He hadn’t even had a chance to get home. Not that his one bedroom apartment in a building next to the beach, but in which his faced the narrow alley to the side, offered much appeal. But he would have liked clean shorts.

  “No time for laundry, huh? I need to rinse out my delicates.” He could have said a lot more—could have informed his boss he’d never again accept any assignment involving a bevy of college girls who were determined to break every rule in their sheltered lives. He’d had less hazardous missions in Special Forces. Certainly less demeaning. But the more irritating details of the past week would be better relayed in person. Over a cold beer. He had been in constant contact with the office when things went south, but the girl and all her friends had left the day before on their way back to the college of their choice, none the worse for wear, never even knowing about the attempted kidnapping he’d prevented.

  Her daddy knew. The bonus he’d insisted upon paying would go some way to allaying the annoyance factor. But next year, if the assignment came up again, he’d refuse it. A guy had to have some dignity.

  “Buy some shorts and put them on your expense report.” A voice in the background murmured, and Grey chuckled. “Athena says make sure they are 100 percent cotton. It wicks away moisture better.”

  “Very helpful.” He pulled a U-turn at an illegal but, at two in the morning, empty section of highway. “What airlines?”

  “Guess.” Fuck.

  “Not again. Why didn’t you stop me before I flew all the way back here on that puddle jumper your buddy calls a plane? It’s not the most comfortable ride in high winds. There’s a hurricane in the Atlantic, in case you’ve been too busy working to listen to the news.” He bit back the rest of what he wanted to say. Grey was a tolerant boss but still his boss. And he’d been grateful enough to find a home in the Florida firm after walking away from a floundering career in Special Forces.

  His skills never came into question, but personal knowledge gained on an operation cost him his interest in further government work. Some things shouted at a superior officer could never be taken back—even if he’d wanted to. At Omega, he used his skills but nobody asked questions about his family, his past. Or hid it from him.

  They either already knew, as Grey and Athena did, or they left him in peace.

  “I regret the inconvenience, Carson. But this cannot wait. Ernie has the particulars onboard. He should be refueled by the time you get there.”

  “No, not again.” He blew out an exasperated breath, remembering the roiling clouds under their tiny, vulnerable craft. “Isn’t there anyone else who can take this one?” Someone who hadn’t just bobbed and bounced their way across the friendly skies.

  “No. Call me if you have any questions, I’ve got to go. Athena and I have dinner plans.”

  “Have a great time. I’m sure I will.”

  He punched the button on the dash and disconnected the phone. He’d have to set up voice commands if he was ever in town long enough. He’d only driven the car three times. Home from the dealership, to the airport, and now.

  Omega certainly kept him busy. And, if he were honest, he liked it. Work kept him from thinking too much. Kept him focused on the missions rather than the lie he’d lived. When he joined Omega, Grey and Athena both had pointed out he might have gone above his superior’s head, but even if the government had been willing to take him back, he’d been too disillusioned to do it.

  The small airport was nearly deserted, the trees lining the tarmac blowing in the gale, and the plane running when he arrived. Ernie, a man whose acquaintance with Grey was well-known but not well understood, waved him aboard and handed him a manila envelope.

  Carson settled in the co-pilot’s seat, glancing down at the empty Coke bottle he’d left aboard when he disembarked, and buckled into his seat harness. Air Ernie didn’t do between flight cleanups. No sooner had he leaned back than the plane trundled down the runway, building speed. A technology whiz and junkie, Carson would have felt more secure in any kind of jet than the battered old plane he currently occupied. Rumor had it Ernie had found it in a junkyard, totaled by the insurance company after it belly flopped on a landing, and refurbished it—a term used loosely in this case—and held it together with paper clips and duct tape. The silver strip across the seat he occupied backed up the premise.

  They lifted off and soared toward the heavy gray cloud cover. Wind buffeted the little craft and, despite his experience with dangerous missions throughout the world, Carson gripped the papers in his lap and blew out a long breath.

  The pilot punched in some numbers to his iPad and nodded. “Nice day for flying, huh?” They climbed above the clouds into blue sky and leveled off, propellers whirling. The wind still bounced them around, but a parting in the heavy gray cover allowed a brief view of waves pounding the beach as they headed out over the Atlantic.

  “Glad you think so.” The plane dipped and recovered. “Are you sure we’re safe?”

  “As kittens in a basket in a cozy room. Hurricane Annika can’t take us down.” The guy was weird. “Sit back and enjoy the flight. Or maybe review your notes?”

  Carson unwound the string binding the envelope closed. “Odd he didn’t send these to me on my tablet.”

  “Weather has Internet down for the whole area.” Ernie chuckled. “And just so you don’t think he abandoned security completely, I understand some parts are in code.”

  “Understand or peeked.”

  “How else would I have gained this understanding?” Ernie, while not an employee of Omega, had held the highest securi
ty clearance in the service. He could be trusted, but need to know held sway in their line of work. All Ernie needed to know in this case was where to go and when. And how to manage to get there, no matter what conditions prevailed.

  “Good point.” If Grey had wanted Ernie kept in the dark, he’d never have let him touch that envelope. They flew along for a while, Carson trying not to notice the turbulence and Ernie, to his credit, seeming focused on flying the plane. The man had the ability to make light of dangerous situations, but he could also be relied upon to know when to take things seriously. Carson didn’t want to distract him, but glimpses of the turbulent Atlantic below reminded him of what they likely faced when they landed. “In these conditions, aren’t at least small craft grounded?”

  Ernie chuckled. “Even large ones.” The roar of wind against the hull filled the silence for a long moment while Carson considered the new information.

  “Then, why are we in the air?” Even the Omega Team operatives could run into problems if they defied the FAA when they wanted to take a plane somewhere. “Surely this mission cannot be so important the government itself steps aside for our work.”

  “My boss thinks so.” The feminine voice wound around them, and Carson jumped in his seat.

  “What the fuck.” He peered over his shoulder to see a sophisticated redhead in a neatly pressed shirt and skirt, entirely unsuited for both their mode of transportation and their destination. Wide green eyes and pale, smooth skin set off the full, cherry lips currently curved into a gracious smile. “Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to curse in front of a lady”—and he’d never seen a woman who deserved the title more—“but you startled me. When did you board?” He’d have noticed someone sitting there when he ducked between the seats in the rear. There were only four of them.

  “Right after you.” How could he not have heard? She must move like a cat—of course, the wind had been pretty loud. She leaned forward and rested a hand on Ernie’s shoulder, a pair of delicate gold bangles circling her slender wrist. “My dashing pilot should have introduced us before we took off.”

  The plane hit a patch of especially bad turbulence, and her fingers tightened on the pilot’s shoulder for a moment before she released him and sat back again. Watching Ernie’s face, Carson noted a low flush with interest.

  “So, are you our ‘dashing’ pilot’s date for the weekend?”

  Ernie’s flush deepened, but the woman seemed unfazed. With her beauty and polish, her air of wealth contrasted with the pilot’s rough-and-ready mannerisms and worn clothes, poor guy didn’t stand a chance. If she wanted him. No telling what a woman might want, in his limited experience.

  His Special Forces position had him traveling so much, he’d enjoyed only the occasional evening with a woman. It wasn’t fair to ask them to enter a relationship with a man who was not only rarely on US soil but risked his life daily. And, despite the happy relationships enjoyed by so many of his colleagues, he still traveled and faced danger. And he’d lived alone for too long. He was a confirmed bachelor. Only once had a woman tempted him to more, but she’d been gone when he woke after their one night together and he’d accepted her choice to walk away.

  “I’m not anyone’s date for the weekend,” she murmured, handing him a card from her purse. “I am the PA to Senator Hannigan, your client.” She flashed a brief, dazzling smile. So, the client sent along a rep. She’d probably get underfoot, but he would have to put up with her, he supposed. It couldn’t be too serious a situation if Grey agreed to allow her to accompany him.

  “Carson Ames, meet Julia Smithson. Carson, Julia.” Ernie lapsed back into silence, guiding the small craft across the Atlantic toward the islands where most people went for fun and frolic. Maybe Carson would extend his stay if he could wrap things up quickly. With business growing, he’d end up on another case the moment he arrived home. He could hide out for a day or two, get a little sun, weather permitting, and take a commercial flight home.

  On the other hand, if the weather worsened, he’d be on the island for several days at least, his expenses covered until he could return to the States. If he took care of business quickly, he’d have time off on the company dime. Hanging out at the hotel bar and people watching wouldn’t be too bad either. “Ernie, what island are we going to?” He hesitated to review his orders in front of Julia, despite her position with the client, but he needed to be informed before he hit the ground.

  “One you’ve never heard of, Carson. Very small. Only one little town and two hotels on the whole thing.”

  “Big hotels? Casinos?” When he got no reply, he tried again. “Big enough not to wash away in the storm?

  Ernie shrugged, making adjustments on the instruments, the uncharacteristic concentration on his face no comfort. He usually flew with the ease of a child riding a bike down a beach boardwalk. “I only hope the landing strip is still clear. And that I can get the old girl on to the next stop.”

  Carson considered what he’d learned so far. So, Julia knew Ernie from a long time ago. She might answer some of the questions he’d had about the guy’s past. Even if they didn’t seem to come from the same planet, much less the same background. Her sleek grooming and Ernie’s it’s-a-good-day-if-I-button-my-shirt appearance clashed in the extreme. And what about the blush? Could the guy have the hots for the Senator’s aid? Carson decided to keep the gossip for another time, maybe in a bar when enough whiskey might loosen even the mysterious pilot’s tongue. For the moment, they flew in hazardous conditions with a special pass from the FAA, which didn’t happen often, so far as he knew. He slapped on his mission face.

  “So you are shoving off again.”

  “You got it,” the pilot said. “If I can. I’d rather get my plane somewhere safe for the duration. The hurricane is predicted to hit the area hard.” Fantastic. He peered through the windshield and sighed. “Okay, everyone hang onto your hats. I’ll do my best, but this is not going to be a smooth landing.” Below, only more clouds. Ernie must have more instrumentation on the plane than Carson thought if he could land through that cover.

  “Ernie, I’m starting to think this plane has more technology than it appears to.

  The pilot flashed him a grin. “I’m not at liberty to say.” Okay, more mystery.

  Glancing behind him, he noted the woman was staring out the window and decided he’d have to look at his orders and hope she wouldn’t read over his shoulder. The first page summarized the assignment, and he scanned it, taking in the details. The Senator had engaged them to investigate a matter of the utmost importance. No effort to be spared. High security, the client wanted things kept very quiet.

  “And Julia? What is she going to be doing while I investigate the”—he read a few more lines—“the Senator’s son’s death.” Oh crap. How could the death of a US Senator be kept under wraps?

  “I have orders to remain on the island until you finalize your investigation. As you can imagine, Senator Hannigan is quite distraught over Scott’s demise. He’s not convinced it was an accident.” Her voice tightened. “His fiancée never met the Senator’s approval.”

  “As long as you don’t get in the way.”

  “I can assure you, Mr. Ames, I am never regarded as in anyone’s way.”

  “I don’t see any mention of your being here in my notes. Did Omega approve your coming along?”

  Ernie drew a deep breath and crossed fingers on both hands. Encouraging. “Here we go.”

  The nose of the little craft tipped forward and they descended, bouncing and jouncing, into the blackest clouds he’d ever dreamed possible. Visibility decreased to—so far as Carson could tell—inches. The sides of the plane rattled, the vibration chattering his teeth until they emerged into open air over an island shaped like a barbell with one long road running its length and all its foliage bent low to the ground under the force of a wind that….

  “Ernie we can’t land there.” He’d been in worse, but the craft he’d occupied had been in was built within the last fif
ty years. Even with whatever tech Omega had managed to load onto this thing, it was still a rattletrap puddle jumper.

  “Sure we can.” The pilot brought the plane around in an arc to approach a long strip of cleared land almost obscured by the trees whipping back and forth to either side of it. “In fact, we’re going to right now.”

  The roar of the wind intensified, the closer they got to the ground, until he could barely hear his own voice as he shouted, “It’s not safe.”

  “Nope, not at all.” They closed in on the strip, nose feet above the ground. “But here we go.”

  Carson gripped the harness, for lack of an oh-shit bar, and, for the first time since the Middle East, remembered to pray. Please don’t let this thing belly flop. Or worse, flip over. Burst into flames. The wheels touched down, bounced, and landed again to stay down this time, and they rattled along the dirt strip for a few hundred feet, slowing to a stop. They’d survived.

  Carson crawled behind the front seats and opened the door to outside. He hopped to the ground, tempted to kiss it in gratitude. “They don’t pay me enough for this.”

  Ernie jumped down behind him and helped Julia out, her low, elegant heels and business suit incongruous in the stormy islands. “I heard they pay you plenty.”

  True. “And a life insurance policy. But I’d rather not earn that benefit.” And, truth, he had nobody to leave the money to, not anymore. Once, it would have been the woman who’d raised him, “Aunt” Rosie.

  Ernie unloaded Carson’s duffel and a suitcase and makeup case then waved over a young man hovering a few yards away. “This is your contact. He’ll get you to your hotel, and I’ve got to get out of here.” A bolt of lightning speared through the clouds, and thunder crashed just a few seconds later. Then the skies opened and rain poured in a deluge, soaking them all instantly, and Ernie slumped. “Plan B.”

  He spoke to the thin black man who arrived at their sides, and the man nodded and lifted a radio to his mouth.