Rafe's Chance at Happiness

Prologue

Damascus, Syria

Twenty-seven years ago . . .

“What’s your status, Alpha One?”

Angelina Price—or Lena, as she was known to most—welcomed the slight breeze that blew past as she sat beneath the café’s cloth awning. Keeping her movements casual, she picked up the ceramic mug before her, using it to conceal her mouth’s subtle movements.

“Same as the last time you asked me,” she quipped back.

What’s it been, a whole five minutes?

The guy seriously needed to chill.

A hidden smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Rafe Owens was a lot of things, but someone who chilled? Not so much.

“Our target should’ve shown by now.” His British accent returned a few seconds later.

“He’ll be here.”

“Any chance you were made?”

Lena fought the urge to roll her eyes as she took a sip of her tepid tea. “I’m not going to dignify that question with an answer.” She kept the mug close without being too obvious.

“I’m just saying, he’s late.”

“And I’m saying he’ll be here.” With a sigh, she forced another quick swallow. “Look, I get that it goes against your nature, and maybe it’s the whole English thing, I don’t know. But you need to find a way to relax, otherwise, I am going to get made. That happens, we’ll all be screwed.”

“I’ll relax once we have Alexei Kozlova in our possession.”

The man’s sentiment was understandable and one she fully shared. Each new day Kozlova remained free was another day his criminal enterprise continued its deadly operation.

Drugs, weapons, and money laundering were merely the beginning for the young and powerful Russian mafia boss. According to trusted CIA and MI6, Alexei Kozlova had stepped into his father’s place as the man in charge immediately following his father’s untimely death.

The transition of power had been seamless, and the twenty-eight-year-old had already surpassed his father’s success. He was young, hungry, and even more ruthless than his old man. Even worse, recent intel had him collaborating with corrupt international state officials.

When Lena heard this, Kozlova’s endgame had suddenly become crystal clear. Kozlova wanted to interfere with—and ultimately hold heavy influence over—foreign government elections, including those in the U.S.

If he succeeded, Kozlova would waste no time padding the pockets of those with the power to bring him down. A move like that would all but solidify his organization as the most powerful of its kind.

It was why she was sipping on cold tea at a café in Syria on a bright, sunny day. And why MI6 hadn’t hesitated to offer up their best man to assist with the job.

The United States and the UK shared a fierce desire to see the ruthless Russian behind bars. For that to happen, however, Lena and her team needed to catch Kozlova in the act. Hence the sting she was currently leading, and Rafe’s urgency for their target to show.

Come on, Alexei. Don’t make me out to be a liar.

The irony of the thought had the corners of her lips curving upward as she set her mug down. For the past three years, she’d made a living as a government-trained and sanctioned liar. But there was a difference between lying for the job and lying to friends.

Lena had no way of knowing how Rafe felt about her, and she wasn’t about to ask. But after their months-long stint working side-by-side in close quarters, she’d started to consider him a friend.

Too bad he isn’t more.

He could be. Logistically, anyway. According to her research, Rafe wasn’t married, nor was there anyone waiting for him back home. Unfortunately for her, the guy’s internal walls were as thick and impenetrable as concrete.

There’s a story there. If we had more time—

Something shattered, immediately pulling her wandering thoughts back into focus.

She reflexively turned toward the source of the sound, reaching toward her concealed weapon.

Almost as quickly, the breath in her lungs released in a slow, controlled exhale when she saw it was simply a clumsy server who’d accidentally dropped an empty glass.

Serves you right for thinking about Rafe rather than the real reason you’re here.

The tension in Lena’s shoulders eased as her hand returned to her mug. Her subconscious was right. At twenty-two, she was the youngest Operations Officer to ever run an op of this magnitude. She’d earned her spot, and there wasn’t an agent out there who could ever argue that fact.

But if she messed this up—if this op was anything other than mission success—her future with the CIA would be spent behind a desk. Or worse, she’d get burned, never to return to the field again.

Keep your eye on the prize, and the higher-ups will be singing your praises instead.

More importantly, she and the others would be responsible for taking down two of the world’s worst monsters.

Lena glanced around, checking everyone around her for familiarity in hopes of spotting their target. After perusing those sitting at the tables around her, as well as passersby on the sidewalk to her left, her gaze shifted to those walking past the quaint boutiques and shops across the street.

That’s when she saw him. Alexei Kozlova had just exited the back seat of a car parked next to the curb.

“Heads up.” Her spine stiffened as she put the team on alert. “Target confirmed. Kozlova is going into the restaurant across the street.”

“Haddad’s already inside.” Rafe’s deep accent filled her ear with utter confidence. “His right-hand man just got out of a silver car parked out front.”

Lena sent a casual glance that way. “And that’s Kozlova’s guy parked right behind him. Looks like the party’s finally starting.”

Omar Haddad was Kozlova’s Syrian counterpart. Word from the inside was the two were meeting today to solidify the merging of their respective organizations. She and the others planned to nab them both after, as they were leaving.

“Everyone get into position and be ready,” Lena ordered. Taking her time, she stood and pushed her chair up to the table. A few seconds later, she was checking both ways before crossing the street.

Get inside. Observe. Wait for them to leave. Initiate extraction.

The next steps in their plan rolled through her mind on loop as she made her way past the two men without suspicion. When she got inside the small restaurant, Lena found most of the small tables already occupied, but thankfully there were a few available seats.

To her left was the counter where customers could place their orders. She walked toward it, pretending to peruse the menu mounted high on the wall before her. With her peripheral vision, Lena spotted the pair at a table for two in the back.

I spy with my little eye . . .

Moving naturally, she brought a hand to her face, scratching her nose as she updated the team. “Targets Alpha and Bravo confirmed,” she whispered. A tiny sniff preceded another strategic scratch. “They’re alone at a table near a small hallway in the back.”

Rafe was the first to respond with, “Copy that, Alpha One. I’ll let you know when I’m in position.”

“Copy.”

Lena ordered and paid for another tea she had no intention of drinking. The paper cup was warm against her palm as she asked the barista, “Is there a restroom I can use?”

“In the back.” The young woman’s Arabic accent was thick as she pointed in that direction. “First door on the left.”

With a polite nod, she gave her thanks before turning and walking that way. The low hum of conversation mixed with the powerful beats of her heart as she kept her vision forward, rather than on their targets.

When she passed by the two men, they didn’t look her way but kept their conversation to a low murmur.

Lena locked the door behind her upon entering the single-occupant bathroom before flipping the switch to the built-in, overhead fan.

She used the moment alone to get an update on Rafe and the rest of the team.

“Alpha Two, I need a SITREP.”

“Just got to the roof and I’m settling into position.”

With Rafe serving as overwatch from his sniper’s perch across the street, she checked in with the others.

“Alpha Three?” Lena prompted fellow agent Caleb Calhoun to respond.

The Texan’s southern drawl came through despite the man’s efforts to rid himself of the identifying trait.

“Alpha Three, here. Just sittin’ at a table outside, enjoying the sun with Four.”

With Caleb and Agent Sabrina Sanchez, that only left Alpha Five.

“Always saving the best for last, I see,” Damien Pascal spoke without provocation. His tone was filled with boredom as he shared, “Still all alone in the van, as usual. But hey, that’s why they pay me the big bucks.”

Lena ignored the urge to smile. “Alpha Two, you got eyes on Kozlova’s and Haddad’s men?”

“Affirmative,” Rafe confirmed. “Their drivers are standing watch by their respective cars.”

“I have a clear view of the drivers as well,” Sabrina added. “Obvious bulges beneath their jackets, left hips.”

“Don’t worry, Boss,” Caleb chimed back in. “First sign of trouble, we’ll be ready to roll.”

“I’m counting on it.” She went to the toilet and flushed before turning on the water, washing her hands to keep up the ruse.

“Remember, the goal is a simple snatch and grab. As soon as Kozlova and Haddad leave, Alpha Five will drive up, Two will take out the drivers, and Three and Four will get our targets into the van.”

“And you’ll be right on our six. Right, Boss?” Caleb asked.

“Damn straight.” Lena snorted. “I miss the comforts of my apartment too much to stick around.”

A few snickers came through the mic as she turned and reached for the door.

Schooling her expression, she left the tiny bathroom and made her way back to the restaurant’s main area.

There was a table free directly across from their targets, but she chose one a little farther down to avoid drawing attention her way.

Lena sat near the front, shifting her body in a way she partially faced the criminal masterminds without appearing too obvious. Over the next several minutes, Kozlova and Haddad held what she could only describe as a civil conversation. Two businessmen discussing the terms of their deal.