Protecting Mari (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) (Counterstrike Book 1) Read online

  Protecting Mari (Special Forces: Operation Alpha)

  Counterstrike, Book 1

  Cara Carnes

  Contents

  Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  About the Author

  Other Books by Cara Carnes

  More Special Forces: Operation Alpha World Books

  Books by Susan Stoker

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  © 2018 ACES PRESS, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this work may be used, stored, reproduced or transmitted without written permission from the publisher except for brief quotations for review purposes as permitted by law.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please purchase your own copy.

  Cover Design by Freya Barker at RE&D

  Editing by Heather Long & Ink It Out Editing

  Dear Readers,

  Welcome to the Special Forces: Operation Alpha Fan-Fiction world!

  If you are new to this amazing world, in a nutshell the author wrote a story using one or more of my characters in it. Sometimes that character has a major role in the story, and other times they are only mentioned briefly. This is perfectly legal and allowable because they are going through Aces Press to publish the story.

  This book is entirely the work of the author who wrote it. While I might have assisted with brainstorming and other ideas about which of my characters to use, I didn’t have any part in the process or writing or editing the story.

  I’m proud and excited that so many authors loved my characters enough that they wanted to write them into their own story. Thank you for supporting them, and me!

  READ ON!

  Xoxo

  Susan Stoker

  About the book

  Who do you turn to when the law is the problem?

  Marisol hoped divorce was the key to a new life—one away from her crazy ex-husband. Instead she’s working two jobs and struggling to make ends meet as her problems escalate. Terrified and desperate for help—any help—she turns to a stranger, a man her brother swore could help with just about any problem. The answer to her problems is tall, dark, deadly and everything she’d once thought she wanted in a man. But to him she’s a job. Nothing more.

  No one should fight an impossible war alone.

  When Ethan founded Counterstrike he expected a challenge but nothing could have prepared him for Marisol. She’s smart, courageous, compassionate, headstrong, and everything he’s ever wanted. But her troubles come with a price tag he didn’t expect when he must face his own personal demons to keep her safe.

  They’ll both soon discover the hardest battle is the one for their hearts.

  Chapter 1

  Red and blue sirens spun around her, marring the otherwise serene early morning in Austin, Texas. Marisol Santos yanked on the frayed edges of the hastily donned t-shirt and willed an end to the nightmare as she studied the dance of blue and red along the cracked pavement outside Shady Apartments.

  The colors should inspire security and comfort, but they didn’t. Not for Mari.

  Another vehicle arrived, an unmarked one. Dread clawed her insides, wrapped around her lungs, and squeezed until every breath was pained.

  No, that wasn’t dread. It was a war wound—one of many she’d collected when hell broke loose. Her gaze swept to the long, windy route leading to the front of the complex. The lone path back to her patch of existence remained empty. “There’s fingerprints. I can show you where.”

  “Ma’am, I’m afraid we can’t call out a crime unit. Procedure is very clear. Without blood or fluids on scene, there’s nothing we can do, especially not for a theft.” The beat cop’s lips thinned as he scrawled something else in his pad. “Are you sure there’s no one I can call for you?”

  She swallowed and somehow forced her mind past what he’d just said. There’d be no crime scene unit because the only crime tonight per his little notebook was the loss of a cell phone. Loyalty ran deep in brothers in blue, a fact she’d learned long, long ago, but that didn’t stop her from trying one more time. “There’s fingerprints. I can show you where.”

  The man’s lips thinned once more. “Very well, show me.”

  Another layer of numb settled around her, shielding her from his placating tone. Mari followed his progression into her open apartment door. “Someone keeps leaving the door open. My cat.”

  That someone was likely the cop’s partner who’d spent more time tromping in and out of her place than anyone. To say the Austin Police Department was less than interested someone had broken into her tiny unit at 3:04 a.m. was an understatement. The fact the bastard had…

  Nope. Not going there.

  So she focused on the danged door. In terms of obsession, it’d become her primary one. Worrying about June Bug fleeing the small one-bedroom like any sane-minded person or animal would kept her mind off the real troubles—troubles the young cop in front of her wasn’t picking up on even though she’d tried every which way to get the discussion moving.

  Without blood or fluids on scene, there’s nothing we can do, especially not for a theft.

  She repeated his words in her mind, accepted them as a brick wall, one she’d slammed up against enough to know it wouldn’t crumble easily. She’d officially reached the end of her rope, though. Admitting defeat wasn’t something she did. Where there was a will, there was a way.

  She studiously pointed to where she knew the bastard had touched. The officer nodded, but his lack of desire to do anything about the potential fingerprints spiked her anger. She was so far in over her head she’d likely drowned months ago and simply hadn’t noticed.

  “Can I borrow a phone? I need to make a call.” She held her hand out expectantly.

  The young beat cop had no idea who she was, who her ex was. To him she was merely another incident report he’d have to fill out before he got to go home and crawl into bed.

  But an unmarked police car had just arrived, which meant someone entrenched deeper within blue had arrived on scene. Her anonymity was about to expire, which meant she only had a few moments to phone for help. Who would wade into this mess she called a life and keep her safe from a crazy stalking ex-husband high up within the Austin Police Department?

  The cell phone settled into her outstretched palm, and for the first time since the incident occurred, she felt something aside from shock, fear and anger.

  Hope.

  She only knew one badass with the ability to take on the APD. The only problem was he was stationed overseas with his unit. Or team. She wasn’t sure what they called themselves, and she didn’t much care. Joseph was the best big brother she could ask for, which was why she’d had to be smart and not let him know how bad things had gotten between her and her ex-husband, Chester.

  Mari moved away from the officer to get a
bit of privacy, not that it mattered. She didn’t care if he heard the conversation because it was a last-ditch effort to get help. The number was one she’d memorized a few weeks ago when her brother had offered it up. A contact. A man Joe knew, one who knew lots and lots of people.

  It was terribly early in the morning, and she wasn’t sure where the phantom named Tex lived, but he was literally her only hope at this point. Fear clawed her insides as her gaze swept the parking lot. Dread settled like a lead balloon as she locked gazes with Paul Gomez, Chester’s former partner.

  “Hello.” The voice on the other end was deep and alert, despite the wretched hour.

  “Erm, hi. I’m so, so sorry I know it’s late. Or early, really. M-My brother gave me this number, said to call if I ever needed help.” She stammered the words out as a tremble knocked her insides around and radiated outward until her entire body quaked. “I need Tex.”

  “You’ve got me. You’re shaking so bad I can hear your teeth rattling through the phone. Take a deep breath for me.”

  “Afraid deep breaths aren’t an option. I’ve got a couple cracked ribs.” Her pulse steadied as silence settled on the other side of the phone. “Sorry, I’m screwing this up. I…my brother gave me this number. Joseph Santos, but you likely know him as Hazard.”

  “You’re the sister, Marisol. He mentioned you’d been having some troubles with an ex.”

  “Yeah.” She tightened. “I need help, but I’m not sure who to trust.”

  “There a reason you aren’t phoning the cops about this?”

  “He is one,” she answered as her gaze settled on Paul Martin. Crap. “A sergeant in Homicide. I need help. Please.”

  She’d pull what little she had in savings. Somehow she’d come up with the money to get someone to help her. She squeezed the phone tighter and tracked Paul’s progression as he made his way toward her.

  She’d once really liked Paul, back when she’d still been with Chester and they’d been detectives in the Robbery Division. But he’d taken Chester’s side, as expected, when the tumultuous divorce played out. Ever since then everyone in a uniform was persona non grata as far as she was concerned.

  “You’re at Shady Apartments in South Austin?” Tex asked.

  “Yes.” She didn’t question how he knew. Joseph said Tex had wicked mojo, and her big brother had never steered her wrong before.

  “I’m sending someone to you now. He’s former military, he and his brother were both Deltas, the kind of men your brother would trust with his life. Or his little sister’s.”

  Mari took a deeper breath and expended some of the stress. Someone was coming. She wasn’t alone against an army of blue. “Thank you.”

  “They’ve got a good program, one meant to help people with their back against a wall and no way out of their mess. They knock down walls, Marisol.”

  “Mari.” She took another breath. “My friends call me Mari.”

  “Well then, I’m honored to call you Mari. Your brother’s team is in the middle of a mission right now. You want, I’ll get word to him, see what I can do to get him stateside.”

  He could do that? Mari gulped, shook her head fiercely, then realized he couldn’t see her. “No, don’t. He can’t do anything.”

  “I’m thinking Hazard would come up with quite a few things he could do,” Tex clipped. “But Ethan and his brother Milo will likely do them all for him.”

  “Ethan and Milo?” Those didn’t seem like kickass military names, where monikers like Hazard were more commonplace.

  “Gemini. They’ll get you sorted.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Call me once you’re settled. On second thought, I’ll have Gemini call me. He’s en route, so ten minutes at most. Is that your cell you’re calling from?” Silence, then he returned. “It’s not. Where’s yours?”

  “The guy took it.” She squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Number?”

  She rattled it off. “I can get another.”

  “That’s good to know, and I’m sure Gemini will see that you do, but I’m working on finding the bastard who hurt you. You want, I’ll hang on the line until he gets there.”

  “No. I-I’d better go.” Paul came to a stop a couple steps away from her. “Thanks again.”

  She clicked off and handed the phone back to the beat cop when he returned. The young officer nodded his head and greeted Paul with a handshake.

  “What’ve we got?” Paul asked.

  “Intruder woke her. There was a struggle. He took off with her cellphone.”

  Another bolt of anger surged within her adrenaline-charged body. She fisted her hands and forced silence with a bite to her tongue. Paul didn’t give a shit what had really happened. His disdain was a fourth presence within their cluster, so strong and palpable it was a punch to her resolve.

  “Ms. Santos,” Paul quipped. “It seems your decisions are catching up to you. This isn’t the safest neighborhood for a recently single woman.”

  “You know Ms. Santos?” The beat cop’s gaze narrowed.

  “She divorced my former partner, Sergeant Rollins in Homicide.” Hand on hip, he glanced around. “Pretty desolate back here. We have any witnesses?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Very well.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. “Call me later today, Ms. Santos. We’ll sit you down with a sketch artist.”

  “This isn’t your division’s investigation,” she replied, her voice mottled with the anger she didn’t bother hiding. How dare he come onto the scene and dismiss what’d happened. “You’re Robbery.”

  “I think I know my job,” Paul replied, a bite in his voice.

  “He hit me and ripped my shirt off, then proceeded to force himself on me. That accelerates it out of the Robbery Division and into the Sex Crimes Unit, a fact I would have pointed out if the officer here had allowed me to give him more facts about what happened.”

  Paul’s face reddened. “You were assaulted?”

  She forced a nod. The beat cop shifted restlessly beside her.

  “Sorry, Detective, she hadn’t mentioned that.”

  “Ms. Santos has a history of falsifying facts.” Paul’s focus slid past Mari and to a presence behind her—one who’d just halted within the fringes of her peripheral vision. “This is a police investigation, sir. Head back into your apartment or leave. Your choice, but you can’t be here.”

  “I’m not going anywhere until you’re done with Ms. Santos, Detective.”

  The gravely voice startled Mari a moment because of its proximity. A hand settled on her shoulder. She looked up. And up. Geez, the man was tall, at least a foot taller than her height, which wasn’t saying much since she was five two. A black t-shirt stretched across an incredibly wide chest. Muscles rippled along his arms.

  His strong jawline flexed slightly as his gaze remained locked on Paul. She swallowed beneath the intensity etched on his handsome face. Protectiveness. It radiated from him in every action he took, the protective stance along her back, the slight touch of his hand at her shoulder.

  She was no longer alone, and even though he was a stranger woken in the dead of the morning, he wanted her to know that fact. More importantly, he wanted Paul to know.

  Her eyes burned as the tenuous grip she’d held on her emotions slipped a little beneath the stranger’s rocksteady presence.

  “I must’ve misunderstood you, Detective. I could swear I just heard you dismiss a victim’s statement without investigating the facts. Fortunately for Ms. Santos, you won’t be the investigator handling her cases. Ms. Santos and I will be over there until the proper division is called.” His statement brooked no discussion. A firm hand touched her hip.

  “I didn’t catch a name,” Paul said.

  “Ethan Davenport,” he replied. “I’m here on behalf of Counterstrike. Ms. Santos is in our protection now.”

  “Is that right?” Paul’s mouth kicked up in a smug grin. “I hate to break it to you, Mr. Davenport, but Ms. Sa
ntos here exaggerates the truth. I’m aware of your group. You’ve done a lot for this community, and for the victims of domestic violence. She’s not one of them.”

  “Is that so?”

  Mari tensed beneath Paul’s indignant and accusatory tone. Didn’t military men and former soldiers hang tight with cops? Chester had known lots of former Army people, or so he claimed. She’d rarely seen any hang around with him at the house.

  “If you’ll come with me, Ms. Santos, I’ll continue to take your statement.” The beat cop glanced at Paul. “Sorry for the confusion, Detective.”

  Mari nodded and mutely followed behind the uniformed officer. Ethan, aka Gemini, remained at her side, hand on her back. For the first time since she’d woken up at 3:04 a.m. and touched an intruder’s ear, she breathed deep.

  Then winced as pain lanced her side.

  But it didn’t matter. She’d handle a little pain if it brought her closer to sealing the door shut on her nightmare.

  Ethan prowled the area outside the second curtained examination room at South Austin’s emergency room. Though the waiting room had been packed, he’d managed to get Marisol expedited thanks to Daphne, a woman Counterstrike had helped a few months ago. It was one of the main reasons he’d chosen the hospital over its counterpart closer to his home.

  He pulled out his cell and punched the first name under his favorites. As always, Milo answered on the first ring. Big brother by two minutes never messed around with waiting for the second ring, especially not when they had a client in need of their help. “The safehouses on Manor and Shady Lane are both available and ready for use.”