Operation Heartbeat (SEAL Team Blackout Charlie #1)

ONE

The helicopter blades slashed through the air, a relentless rhythm in sharp contrast to the chaos inside Ryan Constantine, aka Con’s, head. In his ear, static hissed and popped, cutting out for the sixty-fifth time of the seventy minutes he’d been in the air. Worse than the crackle that was driving him crazy, he was cut off from his SEAL team.

Con clenched his jaw. Without communication with his SEAL team, he was flying blind. The mission was already on thin ice. Without intel, it felt as if he was skating right into enemy territory.

He glanced at the digital clock on the control panel of the chopper.

13:24:07

Not enough time.

He adjusted his headset over his ears and spoke to the pilot. “ETA to Blackout Alpha base?”

“Nineteen minutes. Tailwind’s on our side. Hang in there, Con.”

“I lost communication with my team.”

“It happens sometimes in this flight path. You’ll pick it up again when we land.” The pilot’s job wasn’t to stress over the nuances of the life of a SEAL. His job was to get Con from point A to point B.

Con stifled a growl that built in his throat. Every single second mattered. When it came to matters of national security, they were always fighting an uphill battle while racing the clock.

Without more information, he was standing on a cliff in the dark.

What was taking place back at JFK Airport was anyone’s guess, but he knew better than to jump to conclusions. All he knew was that he was tasked with getting a phone into the hands of an expert.

A phone that authorities confiscated from a man about to board a flight to Turkey and held the key to the suspect’s activities while he was in the United States. Con had limited time left to get the device to SEAL Team Blackout Alpha’s base in Washington, DC.

He fisted a hand on his knee, willing voices into his ear rather than the occasional crackle of interference. Nothing came.

This wouldn’t be the first time he jumped into an op without a plan or backup. Plans could change in a split second—he had the experience to wing it.

A deep voice blasted into his ear, making him jolt. “Blackout Charlie 1, come in.”

“Blackout Charlie 1.” Before he lost contact with his commander again, he got straight to the point. “Who do I give the phone to at Alpha HQ?”

“Kit. She’s the best.”

The device stowed away in the depths of his tactical vest pocket felt like it was ticking. Like it had a heartbeat all its own.

A second later, the comms unit crackled in his ear again. His commander was gone.

At least now Con had a directive. He’d hand over the phone to Kit, the in-house tech and cyber specialist for Blackout Alpha.

The chopper dropped altitude, hovering over the roof of Alpha’s base. When the landing gear touched down, Con wasted no time. He opened the hatch door and ducked out under the whirring chopper blades.

He strode straight for the hatch in the roof and entered a universal keycode to unlock it. When he pulled open the hatch, revealing a flight of stairs leading into the base, he rushed down them at a fast clip that matched the urgency of his mission.

A big man suddenly loomed up, blocking his path.

“Get out of my way, Ramsey.” Con wasn’t taking any crap from a guy who thought his name was cooler than Con’s.

“Nice to see you too, Con.” The other operative folded his arms over his chest, stretching the sleeves of his black T-shirt.

“I need Kit.”

The stairs emptied into a long hall lined with doors leading to other parts of the multi-storied base. His words echoed down the empty hall.

Through one of the open doors, a man emerged. He stepped into the hall, and in long strides, made his way to Ramsey and Con.

“You say you need Kit?” Gunnison gave Con a grim once-over.

Con wasn’t surprised. When it came to his wife, Gunnison was very protective. But he didn’t have time for this shit.

Using the flat of his hand, he brushed Gunnison aside—or tried to. The muscular man didn’t budge.

“What do you want with Kit?” Gunnison narrowed his eyes.

Con leveled him in his stare. “I have orders.”

Without another word, he took off down the corridor toward the room that served as the brain center for much of the Blackout operations. When he walked in, his gaze landed on the small brunette seated in front of a plethora of monitors. She held a phone and was texting so furiously, that he wondered if she’d already learned of the matter he’d flown here to address.

“Kit.”

She glanced over her shoulder, saw him and twisted to give him her attention. “Con. I didn’t know you were here.”

“Just landed.” He directed his gaze at the ceiling where the chopper was still humming in preparation for the moment he needed to be on the move again.

He walked into the office. The lights were kept dimmed to keep the glare off the many screens. Gunnison was right on his tail.

Kit shot a look at her husband and waved a hand. “It’s all right, Drew. Con, what do you have for me?”

He withdrew the device from his pocket and held it out to her. “I need in this phone.”

She looked up at him in surprise. “No one else has managed to hack it?”

He shook his head. “They have a guy detained at JFK. We’re running on borrowed time. They delayed the flight to Turkey, but this guy was in the system as being under suspicion.”

She took the phone and started hacking into it, a little crease of concentration between her brows. “What’s he suspected of?”

“He was captured on CC cam taking photos of the entrances of the Federal building.”

Gunnison made a noise in his throat. “There are murmurings about the Federal Building. A bomb threat was made.”

Con nodded. “All the authorities are in place, prepared to stop it. But we need what’s on this phone.”

Kit lifted her focus from the phone to Con. “Give me a minute.” She spun her chair back to the desk and set the device on the wood surface. Swiping a finger over the screen, she set about working the magic she was so well-known for.

Con turned his attention to her husband hovering over him. “I’m not the enemy, Gunny. You don’t need to babysit me.”

A grin stretched over Gunnison’s face. “Where Kit is, I am.”

Deep in her work, Kit didn’t respond.

Con grunted. When it came to Alpha and Charlie teams, they worked together just fine, but the strong personalities created tension too. Hard feelings still existed on Charlie’s part when it came to a certain member of their team who’d crossed over to Alpha.

“I don’t have much time. This guy is in holding. We have him on video but we don’t know for certain that he took any photos or if he was just playing on his phone. Without physical evidence that he committed these acts, security will have to let him board that plane.”

Kit twisted back to Con. “There’s nothing on this phone.”

He stepped up to the desk. “Show me.”

She held out the device. He took it and skimmed through the photos. “So where could they be?”

Kit’s expressive eyes took on a faraway look as if she were scanning the inside of her brain for the answer. “In a cloud.”

“So how do you get into the cloud? If he took those photos, we need to find out if he sent them to anyone.”

“I’m checking into his logins now.”

He gave a brief nod. “That’s more than airport security could do. They could only get him to unlock it.”

He loomed over her shoulder, watching her run through all the places where he could have stored photos. When that came up short, she hacked the cloud.

“Oh, damn!” Her sudden soft outburst made Gunnison rocket right to her side.

“Are you all right, Kit?”

She lifted a hand and touched his jaw without shifting her attention away from the phone. “I’m fine. I found the folder with the pictures! And a bunch of different people accessed the folder.”

Con leaned in to see. “We can track the IP addresses from the logins.”

She bobbed her head in a nod, dark hair bouncing around her shoulders. “I’m shooting the addresses to myself so I can do a deep dive on everyone who logged into this cloud.”

“So there is proof that the photos exist. I’ll report back to Commander Barrett.”

Kit stilled. “Then there’s this.”

Con braced a hand on the desk, leaning close to see what she was pointing out: a jumble of letters made no sense to him.

“Is that—”

“A cryptogram,” Kit cut him off.

He turned his head and locked stares with Gunnison.

This was bigger than any of them thought.

He whipped back to Kit. “Any chance you can go to Jersey with me? The team and Barrett need to see this.”

She gave him a skeptical glance. “You don’t have a good hacker in Jersey? They’re everywhere.”

“Yeah, but they don’t have security clearances like you.”

“Then Charlie needs to expand their team.”

“Brilliant tech people with the skills we need aren’t just going to submit resumes to work for a branch of the military no one knows exists,” he argued.

She shook her head. “Sorry, Con. I can’t go. But I’ll walk you out.”

She stood up, and he finally spotted the huge bump of her pregnancy jutting from the front of her body.

“Oh damn!” How could Con have missed that?

Gunnison reached out to steady his wife and curled a protective hand around their growing child. “She can’t travel.”

“No shit. She’s about to pop.”

Gunnison sent him a dark glower, but Kit giggled.

For being so heavily with child, she was quick on her feet and led the way out of the room with her husband at her side, Con trailing behind a step. At the base of the stairs that led to the roof, he stuck out a fist to his brother-in-arms.

“Congratulations, man.”

Finally, some words to wipe that pissed expression off Gunnison’s face. He flashed a grin and bumped knuckles with him. “Thanks, man.”

He started up the stairs but swung back. “Keep me in mind when you go to pick the godfather.”

Without another word, Con was up the stairs, rushing to the waiting chopper. As soon as he switched on the comms device, he demanded to be connected to their commander.

A moment later, Commander Barrett’s voice filled his ear, a relief after all the static he listened to on the flight to DC.

“What do you got, Con?”

“A cryptogram. I need someone to crack it.”

A beat of silence followed. “I only have one option for you. You’re going to Princeton.”

* * * * *

Sophie Edwards stood at the front of the lecture hall, a felt-tipped marker poised over the whiteboard she was drawing diagrams on. As she scribbled and drew arrows, she explained her process to her students.

The hall that held three hundred seats was packed this afternoon, and while she’d love to believe the students of Princeton were excited to hear her lecture today, she had a feeling that the rainy weather had driven them in from the lawn and the friends they’d rather spend time with.

She swept a look across the hall. “Technology has become a great equalizer, but it’s also a great divider of our time. It allows humans to connect across countries, continents, even from outer space. On the flip side, it’s also made us more isolated from connections we would have made in person before.”

She wrote the words out in note form for the students to copy.

A murmur rippled throughout the hall, and she half turned from the whiteboard to scan her audience.

She stopped. The dean had entered, along with another man.

A huge man.

Tall and broad-shouldered with chest and arms that looked powerful enough to take on a dozen opponents in a fight. Next to him, Dean McCall looked like a shrimp.

They were both staring at her. And her students were staring at them .

“Can I help you?” Sophie placed the cap on her marker and set it on the tray.

Dean McCall was a man who never seemed to age. His hair was shot with gray strands but still mostly brown. And the creases around his eyes never seemed to get deeper—except for today.

Her stomach dipped.

“We have a matter we’d like to speak to you about, Ms. Edwards.”

She slanted her gaze from the dean to the buff guy. He wasn’t just big. She was pretty sure he came with his own rocket boosters. His dark brown, nearly coal-black, eyes settled on her and didn’t move.

She gulped and gathered herself. “I take it this can’t wait until after class?”

Dean McCall jumped in. “No. You’d better speak with…uh…this gentleman. I’ll take over the class for you.”

She blinked at him. “Okay.” She turned to the front row where her teaching assistant sat. “Margaret, if you don’t mind updating Dean McCall about where we left off?”

The young woman nodded, but she shot a nervous smile at the “gentleman.”

Sophie craned her neck to look up at him. He just twitched his head toward the exit and turned without any display of that gentlemanly behavior the dean alluded to.

His legs were as long as tree trunks, and just about as thick. The black pants he wore molded to his muscled body, and his black long-sleeved shirt spanned tightly across his back and wide shoulders.

She sped forward to keep up with him as he led her out of the lecture hall and into an empty classroom next door. As soon as the door swung closed, he turned to her.

“My name is Con.”

“Con?”

As in ex-con?

“Stands for Constantine. My last name,” he clarified before she could ask.

“Oh.”

“I’m here because you’re an expert in cryptology.”

Her credentials were the furthest thing from her thoughts at the moment. She stared up at him for several seconds before collecting herself again.

“Some people call me that.”

“You’ve been an expert in documentaries and on TV.”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve written four books on the topic.”

“Again, yes, but what brings you to me?” She lifted a hand and brushed her long bangs off her face.

With confidence she’d seen very few men able to carry off without appearing self-important, he stood tall and still, like his feet had planted roots deep down in the terrazzo floor.

“I’ll get right to the point, Ms. Edwards. I am part of a special ops team and am here to address a matter of national security.”

She sucked in a breath.

“A man was detained at JFK airport under suspicion. We have his phone.”

“Okay.”

“And there’s a cryptogram we need to decipher.”

Interest oozed into her scholarly veins. Ever since she was a child, she’d loved puzzles, and the thrill of a new one made her heart pick up a beat.

“How soon do you need it cracked? Sometimes it can take weeks, months, years—”

“Now. We need it right now . And I need you to come with me.”

Her lips popped open on a little intake of air. “I have classes to teach. Young minds to fill with knowledge. I can’t just leave.”

“We need you. In fact, I’m not asking. I have orders to bring you to our headquarters to begin work.”

“Who do I look like, Indiana Jones?” She sputtered. “I can’t just run off to work with you.”

Those dark eyes never shifted. The black centers were invisible within the deep granite black of the irises. He stared back at her like he gave zero fucks what she said—like he’d take her by force if necessary.

For a moment, Sophie envisioned Con throwing her over his shoulder caveman-style and hauling her outside.

There didn’t seem to be much choice.

She had one more argument to pose before she conceded defeat. “If this is a matter of national security, clearances are needed. How do you know you can trust me?”

“We have a file on you.”

Her jaw dropped. For a long beat, she didn’t have anything to say.

“Someone with your credentials, we keep an eye on.”

Again, she directed her overgrown bangs off her face. She was growing them out, not that he would care. And she was doing it for all the wrong reasons, namely so she didn’t resemble another person who had bangs. And looked twenty-five.

Because that girl was twenty-five.

“Ms. Edwards, I have orders—”

She waved a hand. “Yes, I know all that. But why are you trusting me ? There has to be somebody more qualified for this job.”

“You have all the accolades. Also, you worked on the Valero manuscript case.”

Her eyes widened. He knew about that?

“It only took you three hours to crack the code in that ancient book that led to a lost artifact.”

“Well, yes.”

“You were brought in to assist on a case when a spy was caught with a notebook filled with codes that led to stolen data. Which kept a lot of people’s credentials out of the wrong hands.”

“Um…yes, but—”

“You won the Cipher Award five years in a row.”

Sophie let out a sigh. “All right, so I have the credentials. But I already have a job.”

Those granite eyes settled on her. “We can pay you more. We’re the government.”

“That actually means you’ll pay me less.”

He gave her a flat look. “Not for this work.”

“I can’t just leave my position at the university. I need to speak with Dean McCall and clear it with him first.”

“He already cleared it. You have no more excuses, Ms. Edwards. We have to go now.” Up until this point, he’d been standing dead still, like a soldier in front of a commanding officer. When he moved toward the door, she saw the raw power harnessed in his muscular form on full display.

He stepped into the corridor, and she trotted after him like a small dog.

“What do I pack?”

He threw her an exasperated look. “What does that matter? Pack whatever you want.”

“It matters. I need to know our destination. Do I need lightweight linen or a parka?”

He stopped walking and gave her a once-over. Suddenly, she felt as if her outfit was under scrutiny. The fitted trousers and blouse that buttoned up her neck and ended in a frill of lace felt like the perfect mix of masculine and feminine that morning when she put it on. In a man’s world of male colleagues, all sporting doctorate letters, she enjoyed flaunting that a woman could be seen as their equal.

Now she felt as if that frill of lace circling her throat was choking her.

“Do you live on campus?” Con asked.

“A few blocks away. I drive to work.”

He eyed her. “Fine, go home and pack a bag with everyday clothes. Make sure it’s small. We don’t have much room. Meet me back here in twenty minutes.”

With a nod, she took off at a fast clip. Her car was parked a few lots over, and she was a little winded by the time she reached it. As soon as she was behind the wheel, she swiped her rain-wet bangs off her face again.

When she woke up this morning, she did not think she’d be leaving to decipher a cryptogram. Her brain was so occupied by the turn of events, she reached her small rental home on the corner of a quaint, quiet street in no time.

Luckily, she didn’t have anybody to answer to, not even a pet to take care of. Sophie tuned in to her task. In minutes, she had a few belongings tossed into a weekend bag and was back in the driver’s seat.

When she returned to her parking space, she inwardly groaned at the rain that was falling faster. She reached behind the seat and felt around for her umbrella, then she remembered she lent it to a coworker and they’d never returned it.

She opened her door into the overgrown bush that crowded her crappy parking spot and shimmied past it, hoping the cold, wet branches didn’t snag at her clothes. But they still did, leaving a trail of wetness along her top.

Who cared about that? It was raining, and she was already wet anyway.

After she finished packing, she strode across campus to the building where she’d left the special operative. In the movies, the people who were asked to crack codes were always glamorous, but she was far from it. She was damp, her boots squishing in the wet grass, and lugging a bag.

As soon as she reached the lecture hall, she spotted Con. He resembled a statue standing sentry outside the door. When he saw her, he switched into motion. His long strides ate up the distance between them.

“Follow me. There’s no time.”