Breach Point - Chapter 1
BAINbrIDGE ISLAND, WA
FBI Agent Jane Cannon had never been a Halloween fan. Jane preferred reality over fantasy. Candy, parties, and playing in costumes were more her cousin’s style.
Raine, as usual, was incommunicado. None of the family had come back to the States despite Uncle Chris hinting he planned to send a few of the rowdier members of Team Ten—the disorderly mercenaries and loving psychos Jane called family—back for some well-earned rest and relaxation.
With Halloween falling on a Friday and the holiday’s inherent annoyance factor, she left her apartment in the city to spend her weekend in Bainbridge Island at the family ranch, a sprawling six thousand-plus square foot empty house.
The current plot of land combined several parcels of acreage, difficult to come by on the island, merged into one.
Far back from the main road, she had privacy. No trick or treaters. No people to deal with. No questions about how she was feeling. No suggested therapy sessions she didn’t need.
And no reason to hear footsteps creaking near the doorway of her room.
Dressed for bed in pajama pants and a loose-fitting tee, she’d been doing her best to get warm under the covers. Her gun sat in the nightstand beside the bed. But she never slept without a knife under her pillow.
Her uncles had taught her well.
She opened her eyes the barest slit and kept her breathing even. No one watching could tell she remained awake, though she’d been drifting into sleep before becoming aware of an intruder.
Her blood heated. Tired of so much injustice, she planned to make this prowler pay.
She knew it wasn’t her cousin. Raine had a softer step. The person coming closer felt larger, and though she faced away from it, she sensed the threat clearly.
Taught the right way to react to threats from a very young age, she knew how to keep herself calm in the face of danger. Rationally.
And with surprise on her side.
The moment she heard the squeak of a floorboard next to the bed, she grabbed the knife and rolled away, off the bed, to her feet.
The bed didn’t remain between them for long.
Jane moved around it toward the large attacker, hoping to take him by surprise. Most criminals didn’t expect their prey to fight back. And not women at that.
He came at her, his movements easy, quick.
She’d kept the knife hidden at her left side. As she moved in, swinging with her right hand, she jabbed the knife with her left.
If he hadn’t ducked back, he’d have suffered more damage than a ripped shirt.
He wore all black, a ski mask concealing his face.
She smiled at him. “Well? I’m waiting.”
He didn’t respond to her taunt but attacked with a ferocity that told her to take him seriously. Especially when he employed Taekwondo. Kicks. Strikes. Blocks.
Landing a hit to her gut, he tried to double down with another blow, but she blocked him then swept his feet out from under him.
With his strength and speed, he’d win in a hand-to-hand battle. She needed her gun.
Jane ignored the blooming pain in her abdomen and stabbed fast. Not to his upper torso, as he’d expect, but to his thigh.
She grazed him, enough to spur a low curse while she rolled away. She threw the lamp at him and used the time to dig in her nightstand.
Her hand closed around her Sig Sauer P322. Before she could release the safety, she felt him grab her shoulder.
“Okay, that’s enough.”
Jane and her assailant froze.
The overhead light flicked on, and Jane blinked at Smith standing in the doorway.
“Nice, Jane. Not bad. She almost had you, Min.”
The attacker released her shoulder and stepped back. He lifted his mask so that it rested over his forehead, exposing the handsome features of an older man she wanted to punch right in the face.
“Jane.” Min nodded. “You’re not as stale as Chris said you were. Not a bad fight.”
She made herself release the pistol. “I was two seconds from shooting you.” Turning all the way around, she studied him and Smith, knowing she should have expected the guys to come back sooner. She glared at Min’s hopeful smile. “I still might.”
“Aw, don’t be like that, Jane.” Min pulled her in for a hug and squeezed the breath from her, reminding her he’d tagged her in the gut.
She punched him before he could dodge, and he let out a satisfying oomph.
“You deserved that,” Smith said.
“I did,” Min answered with a chuckle. “But did you see her moves? Not bad at all, even for the FBI.”
“Oh, stop.” Jane relented and shook her head, laughing at them. “You guys can never just stop in and say hello, can you? Nothing normal.”
“Not true,” Smith protested. He held up a bag of candy and smiled. “Trick or treat!”
Half an hour later, munching on candy and drinking hot chocolate sure to spike her blood sugar into the stratosphere, Jane regarded her honorary uncles with a smile.
Jeong Minjun. A fifty-two-year-old Korean man who looked ageless and moved like he was in his twenties. An expert martial artist and mercenary with laughing eyes, fists of steel, and an impressive six-three height that didn’t help him blend into the woodwork as much as he might have liked.
He wore his hair almost to the middle of his neck, which was long for him.
She didn’t notice any new scars or bruises on him, though his hands and fingers remained tough and calloused.
One of their deadliest mercenaries, Min specialized in hand-to-hand and close-quarters combat.
The guy was deadly with anything he could turn into a weapon. Guns, blades, pencils, a paper clip…
Smith, on the other hand, remained an enigma. Light-haired and dark-eyed, he smiled as he downed another Baby Ruth snack bar in one bite. As tall as Min but broader in the shoulders, he could hold his own in a fight. But Uncle Chris used Smith’s brain more than his brawn. That and his mouth.
Smith could talk anyone into anything and was known as the Team Ten Fixer. The man loved to meet the many challenges the guys threw at him. Procuring the impossible out of thin air made his life worth living.
She’d never been able to figure out if Smith was his first name or last name, or even his real name. For a while, he’d made everyone call him Face, after a weird character in an old TV action show that also had a talent for getting his A-Team what they wanted.
Jane had seen the show once, and that had been enough. Her cousin, of course, had reveled in the ridiculous nonsense of a small team of ex-Army soldiers beating up bad guys to help the world, one villain at a time.
At least Uncle Chris hadn’t sent Min back home with Shawn. Min and Shawn, both close ops guys, were chaos on a good day. Smith’s presence would ground Min. And with any luck, Min would make sure Smith didn’t cause any national incidents while Stateside.
“Spill it already,” she ordered around a Goldberg’s Peanut Chew, one of the best candy bars known to man. “Why are you two back?”
Smith blinked, all innocence. “But Jane, we’re here because we missed you.”
She just looked at him.
Min sipped his cocoa, holding the cup with steady hands. “We’re also due some downtime. We needed the break.”
“He means before he killed Shawn,” Smith added helpfully before digging through the bag and fishing out an Almond Joy.
“Hey, you’re eating all the good ones,” Min complained.
“Don’t worry. I have another bag in my carry-on.”
“Oh, okay.” Min, easy to please, smiled again.
Jane bit the bullet. “Tell me why you want to kill Shawn.”
“For oh, so many reasons.”
“Min, you’re the level-headed killer. Shawn’s the psycho. What changed?”
Smith snorted. “Yeah, what changed, Min?”
Min shot him the death glare that still sent shivers down Jane’s spine. The man threatened without words better than anyone she’d ever met. Including her Uncle Chris.
Turning his gaze back to Jane, Min answered, “I’d rather not say right now. I’m still processing. We’ll be here for a few weeks at most. And we, well, I, just want to relax.”
Jane and Smith shared a look before Jane asked, “By relax, you don’t mean kill people?”
“Unless Shawn shows his ugly face, no.”
“I love when he’s so polite,” Smith murmured, ignored the finger Min shot him, and laughed. “Seriously though, Jane, we wanted to come visit. Heard you’ve been having a tough time and wanted to see for ourselves that you’re doing okay. And yes, we wanted to take a break.”
What had her uncle always said about Smith? If his lips are moving, he’s lying.
She scoffed, “You’re not here for a break. Maybe to check on me, but there’s something else. No, don’t deny it. Just do me a favor and come up with a better lie to sell me on.”
“Fair enough.” Smith smiled. “Why are you here instead of in the city? Or have you moved back to the ranch permanently?”
“I just wanted a break from people. It’s quiet here.”
“I hear that.” Min sounded tired. “Having family who loves you is what life is all about. But you can only take so much caring before you want to gut the ones you love.”
“Amen.”
They toasted their agreement with their mugs.
Smith shrugged. “Don’t mind me. I’m not burdened with the delicate sensibilities of you emotional types.”
Jane snorted. “Sure.”
“Now if you’re done with all the disparagement, may I suggest we adjourn to the living room and critique the newest cop drama on TV?”
No more talk of feelings. She could appreciate that. “Outstanding. Which one should we make fun of first?”