Chapter 14 Going on the Offense
GOING ON THE OFFENSE
SYDNEY
When they’d finished with dinner, she and Tank left the restaurant in the capable hands of Gabriel, headed back to Creepy Secret Zone. Like every other time, she sat in the back, keeping watch for someone who might be tailing them.
Once there, Sydney got busy working in the conference room, but because she and Tank had told each other how they felt, she was struggling to concentrate. She wanted to be celebrating their newfound love with her man.
Tank looked good—no—he looked better than good. He looked like an Adonis in his Santini Originals. The suit jacket hugged his broad shoulders, the black dress shirt clung to his granite abs, and the pants showed off his tight ass and corded thighs to absolute perfection.
But, she had a job to do. Time to focus-up and continue searching for King A by scouring social media.
Since King A kept his identity a secret, his podcasts were primarily audio.
For the handful that were short video clips, he stood with his back to the camera, his head covered in a wide-brimmed golf hat.
It was impossible to see him and, to make things more challenging, the audio had been distorted.
He might be touting empowerment, but his actions were anything but.
He encouraged men to step into their light and take control, all while he skulked from the shadows.
What a hypocrite.
King A claimed to be a savior for men desperate to attain power and money, fame and recognition. In truth, he was luring them into his twisted reality, brainwashing them, then unleashing them on their innocent victims. Gullible women who were duped by their false power and devilish ways.
Weeks earlier, Sydney had created a fake identity on social media. Posing as a man, she’d been accepted into the members-only group under The Sovereign Method umbrella.
There, men posted pics and videos of how their women doted over them to the point of obsession.
Braggarts claiming that their wives and girlfriends made them their focal point, catering to their every whim and desire.
How they were treated like gods. A good majority of them had multiple girlfriends, even the ones with wives.
They boasted about their hookups, posted pics of these women too.
And they always gave props and kudos to King A for teaching them how to be the alpha they’d only dreamed about.
Some talked about how their careers had taken off, how they’d grown rich simply because they’d applied King A’s methodologies.
Post after post credited King A of The Sovereign Method for single-handedly changing their lives.
“Yowza,” Sydney said.
As she scrolled, she saw a posting by King A himself—and that’s when Sydney got the break she needed. There was a members-only meeting in January. To her surprise, it was at Hotel Dillinger.
Excited to tell Tank, she glanced up. Not only was she alone in the Black Site’s conference room, she realized she had to pee something fierce. She hurried out, triggering the lights in the now-dark corridor. As she started down the eerie hallway, chills rushed down her spine.
Could the terrorists breach the building? How secure is it, really?
As she rounded the corner, movement caught her eye, and she went for her SIG.
Feet away, Tank paced the hallway, his phone pressed to his ear. “I posted the pics of the dead terrorist, and I got a response.”
Sydney stopped, re-holstered her weapon, and waited for him to turn.
Surprising him was the last thing she wanted to do.
Though she knew the rules of gun safety backwards and forwards, she also knew it was insanely stupid to surprise an armed man, especially a Santini assassin.
It would take little prompting for him to pull his weapon.
He turned, acknowledged her with a nod before he continued his phone convo. “The terrorist’s message says, ‘You got lucky. Won’t happen again.’”
“Lucky?” Sydney hissed as she scooted into the restroom. “I don’t think so.”
When she exited, she got a delicious hit of male yumminess.
No longer on the phone, Tank was leaning against the opposite wall, looking like a total hottie, but it was the intensity raging from his dark eyes that captivated her the most.
“I came up with an idea,” he said. “Greystone and Caroline think it’s too dangerous.” He chuffed out a grunt. “That’s exactly why I think we should do it.”
He started walking backwards, gesturing with his index finger to follow.
She raked her gaze over him. From his confident swagger to the intensity in his dark eyes, she could gobble him up. He was a formidable man. Large in size with a broad chest, bulging arms, and massive thighs.
“You are some kinda yum,” she murmured.
“Yes. You. Are.” The grit in his voice was not lost on her.
Back in the conference room, he explained his idea. When he finished, she stared at him for the longest time, trying to wrap her brain around it.
“I can see why Grey doesn’t want to do it,” Sydney said. “It’s hella dangerous, but I know who can help you pull it off.”
“You,” he replied without hesitation.
She tucked her hair behind her ears. “One hundred percent. I’m your best chance of getting this done.”
“I hear you on that, but no one’s gonna agree to it.” Then, he shoved off the wall he’d been leaning against and held out his hand. “Time to sleep, but not before I love you.”
“I’m pretty fired up.”
He shot her a smile. “I can handle whatever you got.”
“I got a lot,” she replied. “And I can’t wait to unleash it on you.”
“Is Sydney gonna let out her inner beast?” he asked as they headed toward the residential section.
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” she replied.
TEDDY
Teddy was feeling more determined than ever. After loving his woman—and loving her good—they fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. Though they only got four hours of sleep, it was a solid four.
They’d managed to get in a partial workout with weights and, while they both desperately needed a full-tilt run around the surrounding neighborhoods, they weren’t feeling that lucky.
He’d called an eight-thirty meeting and was stoked the entire team showed up. Even though Greystone had rejected is idea, he wasn’t backing down. He needed BLACK OPS to hear it too.
Just as he was about to start, Slash entered the room.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“You called a meeting,” she replied.
Teddy rose, offered her his chair. With a smile, she eased down.
“You’re a beast, Amanda May, and you’ve got my total respect,” Teddy said to her.
“I’m angry as hell,” Slash bit out, “and I’m ready to rock it out.”
With the conference room chairs filled, Teddy stood next to Slash at the head.
“Team,” he began, “thanks for being here on such short notice.”
He flashed the screenshot of the pic he’d uploaded of the slain Haqazzii terrorist, along with the response from the terror cell.
You got lucky. Won’t happen again.
And he waited while every single person in that room voiced their frustration. Sin shoved out of his chair so hard, it smacked against the side wall.
“I’d be dead if it wasn’t for Sydney,” Slash bit out. “We’d all be dead. There’s no telling how bad things could have gotten.” Then, she glanced around. “Where is Sydney?”
“In an office, down the hall,” Greystone replied. “She’s not BLACK OPS.”
“Our loss,” Addison said, and her sister, Brit, agreed.
“I called the meeting because I have an idea,” Teddy continued. “It’s extreme. To be completely transparent, I ran it by Greystone and Caroline. They rejected it because it’s too dangerous—”
“We live for danger,” Rebel and Hawk said together, then fist-bumped each other.
“We’ve got eyes on us,” Teddy said. “And we’re being hunted. At some point, the terror cell will find the Black Site. At that point, game over.”
The group agreed.
Pausing, Teddy swept his gaze over his team. People he admired and trusted with his life. He believed in his idea and he needed to sell it to the group.
“Rather than continue to play defense, we go on the offense and we bait the terrorists to us. We use our family restaurant—Santini Ristorante—to host a holiday charity event. It would be well-publicized, but the only people there would be ALPHA—”
“Teddy—” Greystone started.
“I like what I’m hearing,” Hawk pushed back. “Let my man finish.”
“Seriously?” Greystone shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Shhhh,” Slash scolded.
Greystone held up his hands in mock surrender. “Mi dispiace, fratello mio. I’m sorry, my brother.”
“Grazie.” Teddy glanced around at the eager faces. “Anyone at the event is ALPHA or BLACK OPS. They’re posing as the public for the kick-off of this holiday charity event.”
“We can include journalist Alexandra Wilde,” Sin said. “She’s my go-to for anything press-related.”
“How do we stop the public from showing?” Greystone asked.
“It’s a closed event,” Teddy said. “We’ll kick it off in the parking lot, ask Sin’s reporter friend to film our story live. Sitting ducks for the terrorists to strike us down… only, this time, we’ll be ready.”
“Hell, no,” Greystone shot out. “Non voglio che il tuo sangue si sporchi le mie mani. I will not have everyone’s blood on my hands.”
“I’m confident Muhammad Haqazzii will send a team to take us out,” Teddy pushed back.
“What if they blow up the building?” Caroline asked.
Teddy shook his head. “They’re goal is execution-style assassinations. They could slip someone into the crowd, but I’m thinking they’d do a drive-by. We put a sharpshooter on a nearby rooftop to take them out.”
“Jericho’s our in-house sniper,” Sin said, “and he’s out with back surgery.”
“Actually,” Caroline said, “you’ve already got the best sharpshooter right here in this building.”
All eyes flew in her direction.
Silence.
“Who?” Hawk asked, after several long seconds.
“Seriously, who’s better than Jericho?” Prescott followed up with.
“My sister,” Caroline replied.
“Oh, right,” Sin said.
“Of course,” Slash added. “Duh.”
The team laughed.