Covert Mission (Team Falcon - Agile Security & Rescue Team 2 Book 1)

Chapter 1

Every bump in the road makes my knees bash against the truck’s dash. Six hours of this and I’m damned tired of it.

With a rumble, I rub the back of my neck. “You know what I hate about missions?”

Evan chuckles darkly. “Getting there.”

“That’s what I’ve always said. But this is the worst.” I shift my knees against the dash for the hundredth time today. “You cannot jam a six-foot-three frame in a passenger seat for this long.”

“Wouldn’t know.”

“I’m driving next time, asshole.”

Evan glances over and snickers.

“Payback,” I remind him. I’m already scheming.

He brakes to a stop, throws the truck in park, and continues to push his luck while smirking. “I’m taller than you, there’s no way I’ll fit over there.”

I could take him. He’s built, a little younger, and he’s fast. But my call sign is Beast for a reason. “You will if I stuff your ass in here.”

That is after I stretch my battered body. Being a SEAL for fifteen years was a helluva ride and I’ve got the battle scars to prove it.

As I sling my seatbelt off, I mutter pointlessly, “When will men over six feet tall start engineering truck interiors?”

We both shove open the doors and put boots to dirt. His ass is riding shotgun next time, I don’t care how much he whines.

Pins and needles attack my legs as I check out the small grouping of bungalows. Each of them is a tidy square structure that is painted a unique bright color. All are tucked against the edge of the forest. Eight in total. We rented them all, even though we won’t need that many.

Behind me there’s a lot of grumbling from my team.

“I didn’t think you’d ever stop.” Truck, also well over six feet tall, growls and twists to the side until something loudly cracks in his back. “Ah, now that’s better. Gonna need you to give me a massage, Chief.”

I refrain from flipping him off. Barely. “Don’t hold your breath. I only massage women on lazy Sunday mornings. And seeing as you got the wrong anatomy, and sure as hell aren’t ever going to be in my bed on Sunday morning, you’re screwed.”

Evan gets a smirk on his face. “Especially since you’re abstaining, bossman.”

The jerk always has something to say. Appreciate that most of the time. Not right now.

This time he’s nearly correct about my absent sex life.

I roll my neck and stretch my shoulders. “I’ve had enough deterrent in my life. My family has a history of crazy women, so I’m skipping the circus.”

Thankfully my back muscles start to rearrange as I hinge to one side, then the other.

Evan leans back against the truck. His grin deepens. “What you thinking about, Boss?”

“Nothing.” I’m definitely not thinking about how long it’s been since I hooked up.

He continues to goad me at the risk of his life. “Right. Definitely not thinking about women. I recognize the crater you get between your eyebrows.”

I scowl at him, pointing that crater in his direction. “If a woman even looks like she’s got attachment dreams in her eyes, she’s not getting anywhere near my cock.”

The second this is out of my mouth, I get a twinge behind my sternum. I sure as hell don’t want trouble in my life, but once upon a time, I thought I’d have a family. Especially by now. But life hasn’t panned out that way. I just can’t get myself to be interested in shallow frog hogs.

Now… now, I’m just old. Or I feel like I’m old.

Truck slaps me on the back hard enough to rattle my brain as he walks by. “You just haven’t met the right one.”

I turn to look at him. “And you have?” My brows go up.

He ignores me as he makes his way to the little building with the open door and the sign that reads manager in Spanish.

Evan, Mr. Chatty Cathy, thumps his chest. “Man, I know it’s coming.”

Justice walks up, looking calm and comfortable—like he hasn’t been twisted into a pretzel for hours. Smiling, he looks up at the sky. “Hopefully, a rainstorm. This humidity is off the charts.”

I hitch a thumb at Evan. “He’s talking about love.”

Of all things to be talking about. We’ve got a mission and here we are standing around like a bunch of idiots talking about nonsense.

Justice perks up when he finds this out. “Didn’t know you have a girl.”

“He doesn’t,” I say, as I snatch my pack from the back seat, “but he thinks it’s coming.”

“It is.” Evan proclaims as he starts to whistle the wedding march.

I groan. Justice laughs his clear, and very loud laugh.

What the hell has gotten into Evan? I stop and scowl at him. “Did you hit your head and not tell me?”

Justice is still laughing as he hitches his own duffel over his shoulder. “Better keep an eye on him, Chief. He’ll be running off with some pretty little thing while he’s supposed to be working.”

“Better not,” I call as I head toward the office to see if Truck got us checked in.

Then it hits me.

Shit.I know what happened. It had to be our company retreat. Nearly all of the founding members of Agile have found their ‘one’. Evan was there to witness all the lovey-dovey.

Which means I need to skip the next social event because clearly that hormone induced delirium is contagious.

I don’t get to escape by going to look for Truck because he’s strolling back toward us, looking satisfied.

“Wouldn’t hold your breath on that wedding,” I advise Evan as I fish around in my backpack for a bottle of water.

Evan looks goofy as hell as he cranes his neck back to look at the white clouds dotting the crystal blue sky. “Love is in the air, I just feel it. Who knows maybe I’ll meet?—”

“That’s humidity, idiot,” Truck says as he straightens his boonie hat.

“Can we save the shit for later?” Scout lays into us as he stalks past me, all man-on-a-mission.

He drops the tailgate on GT1—AKA Gear Truck 1—the loaded up black Tundra that nearly broke my knees.

“Rally round,” Scout calls and circles his hand in the air.

I might be the Team Lead, but Scout has no problem keeping things moving along. Suits me. I’m fine without talking. That’s why Evan and I rode together. He can talk. I can ponder. Or more apt, look for the meaning between all the babble that comes out of his mouth. The real stuff. The stuff that makes people tick.

Evan, Truck, Justice and I gather round the rear of the truck, jockeying for shade, and peer down at the tablet that Scout’s hovering over.

“This here,” Scout says as he taps his stylus on the screen, “is the last known location of our subject. It’s about two clicks down this road, and just adjacent to the river. The road between here and there is narrow and rough.”

Santa Rosa, according to our intel, is a small, remote village with a minimal collection of houses and businesses on a single dirt road.

Evan shifts his weight between his feet, looking uncomfortable. “Scout, man, don’t you even need to stretch or take a leak or something? I sure do.”

“No.”

Just no. Nothing else. Scout is like that. Cut and dry. Man, I thought I was down with the king of short answers. Scout’s winning right now.

Truck, as usual, pushes more. “What’s up your ass, Scout?

The man lasers two ice blue eyes toward Truck. “Nothing. We’ve got a missing woman to find.”

We all know Scout is wound tight. But he does seem edgier than normal. Truck shakes his head, and Scout’s only response is to tap his device and bring up another screen.

“This is the closest known archeology site that MZ has frequented according to her father. It’s beyond the town, so we’ll be passing through town then hitting that locale first. The information about the last location is subject as you know. The client and his daughter do not appear to have a close relationship.”

“Copy that,” I say as a frown tightens my mouth. “I think her father seemed off when he was meeting with Marshall.”

Marshall—clever bastard that he is—recorded the Zoom call with the father. Team Falcon got to watch before we rolled out.

Truck leans against the Tundra’s fender and crosses his arms. “Didn’t sit well with me at all. I wouldn’t want that asshole being my old man.”

Justice makes a face as he folds his arms too, bracing his legs in a wide stance. “Ditto, gotta say, he gave me a strange vibe. But billionaires are like that. Definitely quirky as fuck.”

Evan punches Justice’s arm. “Like you’ve known some?”

“You don’t know me.” Justice punches him back as he laughs.

Scout is now glaring at them both.

“He was odd.” I draw the conversation back to the father as I look at the map that’s dotted with villages amongst massive swaths of densely forested mountains. “Our only concern right now is that Agile is being paid half-a-million to bring her home. Marshall’s looking into Daddy Dearest. We’re the boots on the ground.”

I motion to Scout. “Anything else?”

He brings up the picture of MZ. “Remember, our subject could have changed her hair. Gained or lost weight. She could be?—”

Truck cuts him off with an annoyed sound. “We got it, man. This isn’t our first rodeo.”

Scout exhales sharply and looks around one by one, assessing the guys. When he hits me with that narrowed gaze, I tip my chin. “Appreciate your Type A shit. But as you know we all cut our teeth the same way. Every one of us has kicked doors, hunted the worst of the worst, and brought home innocent victims. We all know the drill. I know you don’t know Evan and Truck all that well, but this team has got all the right players.”

Scout’s shoulders relax a hair. But his tone is still tight. “It’s an adjustment.”

I drop a hand on his shoulder and give the muscles a squeeze. “I know, you don’t have to tell me, brother. It’s hard to leave the teams behind. We all felt it when we got out. We’re still feeling it. But we’re gonna be good together, and we’re gonna bring that woman home. Not just her, we’re gonna be the best team Agile has. Mark my words. Now do you have any updates from headquarters?”

Scout’s eyes sharpen as his focus returns to the case. “Roger that. Everyone’s got this in their secure inboxes now, but I’ll give you the abbreviated version.”

Scout quickly masks his unease, but I know he’s going to need time to get his footing and bond with the guys. We all do. But soon we’ll be a well oiled machine.

I know that Marshall and I were right. Scout’s gonna be damned valuable. Truck, Justice, and Evan too. Ass kickers. Name takers. Trouble bringers.

A team like ours will save lives. Bring home the missing. And while we’re at it, working with Agile will pave the way for better retirements. Something none of us is ready to think about, but will be facing one day.

Scout snaps my attention back when he clears his throat. “These are the five other possible locations. Some are towns, some are remote archeological sites. This first town, Santa Rosa, is our starting point. From there we work all of these and see if we can connect the dots.”

When he’s done, I tap a knuckle on the tailgate. “Alright boys. Do what you have to do. We’ll roll out for Santa Rosa, population four-hundred, in ten minutes.”

The guys bug out to get their gear and to take a leak or whatever and I stay behind to thank Scout. As shift my backpack, a cluster of birds scatter from the trees, squawking, flapping their wings.

Awareness pricks at my skin. I spin around, checking the treeline. “That’s strange. What scared them?”

“Don’t know.” Scout scans the area, his own expression concerned.

Then my feet shift below me. I nearly tumble over as I step back. Damn, you’d think my water bottle was full of hundred-proof liquor.

Evan curses as his hands spread wide. “Fuck, did you feel that?”

I sway again and the Tundra starts bouncing up and down like it’s rolling down I-40 through Tennessee. What the hell is happening?

Scout’s snatches his tablet off of the tailgate. “There’s a fault line here…”

Fault line?

As if that makes any sense. But that’s when all hell breaks loose. The ground heaves so hard under me that I slam into the truck.

Evan drops to his haunches. “Earthquake!”

“No shit. Watch out!” Justice yells as a crack snakes across the dirt road between us.

Never been in a quake. Didn’t think about full sized trucks bouncing around.

I didn’t know the earth would groan. Or that the trees would make the eeriest sound as their foliage shudders.

The god’s honest reality is I couldn’t stand up if I had to.

When the shaking and lurching stops the world around me is changed. One of our three trucks is half swallowed by that fracture in the earth that started as an inch wide crack. Trees are toppled at the forest edge. Rocks have tumbled down into a nearby ravine.

It’s not just the nature surrounding us that got jacked. I’m on my side with a mouth full of dirt. Scout’s on his ass holding his tablet to his chest. Evan’s on his knees with a shocked expression. Justice is sprawled out like Spiderman on the ground, praying out loud.

“Where the hell is Truck?”

“Over here,” he shouts. “Damn near got taken out by a coconut that fell out of a tree.”

“There could be aftershocks.” Scout slowly climbs to his feet and it hits me, what I read in his file. He grew up in Southern California. He’s got far more experience than this Kentucky boy.

I climb up to my knees. “Gonna trust you on that. Now ask me about bourbon and Bigfoot and I’ve got you covered. Earthquakes, all my knowledge would fit on a cocktail napkin.”

Turns out Scout was right. And the first wasn’t the big one. That was yet to come. The next twenty four hours are rough, and for men like us to say that means things are bad.

But that wasn’t the beginning of my troubles, that starts when the team finally hits Santa Rosa and I fuck up Team Falcon’s first mission.