Guarded By The Mountain Man Veteran (Valor in the Mountains #4)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

BOONE

The satellite imagery on my tablet shows three possible ingress points to the compound, and I've already identified weaknesses in two of them.

"You're going to burn a hole through that screen." Mace drops into the chair across from me, coffee in hand. "She's not arriving for another four hours."

"Three hours and forty seven minutes." I don't look up. "And the eastern ridge approach needs another camera. Blind spot of approximately eighteen meters."

"Boone." Mace's voice carries that tone he uses when he thinks I'm being unreasonable. "It's a protection detail, not a siege defense."

I finally meet his eyes. "Mara Plummer has received credible death threats from at least three foreign governments and two competing tech corporations.

Her quantum encryption technology could destabilize entire intelligence networks.

She's worth half a billion dollars and she treats security protocols like suggestions.

" I tap the tablet. "This is exactly a siege defense. "

Mace takes a long sip of his coffee, watching me over the rim. "You've read her file twelve times."

"Fourteen."

"In the last week."

"Seventeen total." I set the tablet down, because he's right about one thing.

I need to stop staring at her corporate headshot.

Mara Plummer with her wild auburn curls barely contained in a messy bun, hazel eyes sharp enough to cut glass, that confident tilt to her chin that says she's never met a problem she couldn't solve.

Or a rule she couldn't break.

"Deck assigned me this detail because I'm the best tactical planner we have," I say.

"That means planning for every contingency.

Including a client who, according to her own security team's reports, has disabled her GPS tracker four times, snuck out of safe houses twice, and once climbed out a bathroom window during a credible threat because she had a 'breakthrough idea' that couldn't wait. "

Mace's mouth twitches. "Sounds like she's going to be fun."

"Fun." I scrub a hand over my beard. "She's going to be a nightmare."

The morning light cuts through the lodge's main room, illuminating the tactical boards and monitors that make up our command center.

Outside, the Nevada mountains rise sharp and unforgiving against a clear February sky.

I've planned operations in every terrain on earth, and this is the one place I've found where everything makes sense.

Where variables can be controlled and outcomes predicted.

Mara Plummer is about to blow that all to hell.

"Her father called again this morning," Mace says. "Richard. He's worried."

"Richard Plummer hired us specifically because his daughter won't listen to anyone else.

He and Deck served together in Force Recon.

Richard saved Deck's life in Fallujah." I pick up the tablet again, pulling up the security assessment I finished at 0300.

"He's hoping his old friend's team can accomplish what a dozen private security firms couldn't."

"Keep his daughter alive."

"Keep his daughter still long enough to keep her alive.

" I scroll through her schedule, which she's apparently treated as nothing more than a rough guideline for the past six months.

Missed check ins. Unauthorized location changes.

Three separate incidents where she went dark for hours because she was 'in the zone' on a project.

The woman is a security professional's worst nightmare.

She's also, according to every tech publication on the planet, a genius.

Graduated MIT at twenty two with dual PhDs.

Built a quantum computing startup that's now valued at half a billion dollars.

Her encryption protocols are being pursued by governments and corporations worldwide because whoever controls quantum encryption controls the future of digital security.

Which is exactly why someone wants her dead.

"The threat assessment came in from Sully this morning." I pull it up, even though I've already memorized it. "Two credible sources indicate a hit has been contracted. Origin unknown, but the pattern suggests corporate rather than government."

"Competitors?"

"Most likely. Her technology would give any company a decade's advantage in the encryption market. Someone's decided acquisition through elimination is cleaner than acquisition through negotiation."

Mace sets down his coffee. "And she's coming here for what, exactly? Richard called it 'wilderness executive training.'"

"Cover story." I stand, moving to the window that overlooks our training grounds.

Two of the guys are running the obstacle course.

I can hear Ryder shouting times at them.

"Richard told her it was a mandatory executive retreat for insurance purposes.

If she knew the real threat level, she'd probably try to solve it herself. "

"Would she?"

I turn back. "Her file says she once confronted a group of corporate spies she discovered in her building. Alone. With a fire extinguisher."

Mace lets out a low whistle. "And you think you can keep this woman contained for two weeks?"

"I don't have to keep her contained." I pick up the tactical plan I drafted at 0200. Contingencies A through M, covering everything from perimeter breaches to client extraction to the remote possibility that she might actually follow instructions. "I have to keep her alive. That’s all."

"Is it though?" Mace stands, clapping me on the shoulder. "With someone like this, I'm not sure there is."

He leaves me alone in the command center with my plans and my growing certainty that Mara Plummer is going to test every single one of them.

Good.

I've never failed a protection detail in eighteen years of service. I'm not about to start now, no matter how brilliant or stubborn or chaos inducing the client might be.

I return to the satellite imagery, marking the eastern ridge blind spot for camera installation.

Colt can have the equipment fabricated by tomorrow.

We'll run a full team drill tonight, covering all possible approach vectors.

I'll brief the client on protocols immediately upon arrival, establish clear boundaries, make certain she understands that her safety depends on following my instructions.

My phone buzzes. Deck.

"Yeah."

"Change of plans." Deck's voice carries the tension I've come to recognize over the past two and a half years. "Her advance team just called. She left San Francisco three hours early."

I check my watch. "That puts her arrival at—"

"Forty minutes. Maybe less, depending on how fast she's driving."

"She's driving herself?"

"Apparently she dismissed her security detail at the airport. Said she needed to 'clear her head' before the retreat."

I close my eyes. Breathe. When I open them, I'm already moving toward the door.

"Dismissed her security detail." I keep my voice level, but only just. "While under active threat. To drive alone through isolated mountain terrain."

"Boone—"

"I'll intercept her at the main road junction. Send her vehicle details."

"Already done. Black Tesla Model S, plates—"

"I have them." My tablet is already pulling up the route options from the airport. Three possible roads, but only one that makes sense if she's using GPS. "I'll make contact in twenty."

I'm out the door before Deck can respond, grabbing my jacket and keys from the hook.

The February air bites at my skin as I cross the compound toward my truck, but the cold barely registers.

All I can think about is a black Tesla somewhere on these mountain roads, driven by a woman who apparently has the self preservation instincts of a lemming.

The engine turns over with a growl. I pull out of the compound, gravel spraying, and push toward the main junction at a speed that would make Ryder nervous.

She's already breaking protocols and she hasn't even arrived yet.

The mountain road winds through thick pine forest, patches of snow still clinging to the shadows. I've driven this route hundreds of times, know every curve and blind corner. My truck handles the terrain like it was built for it, which it was, because I modified the suspension myself last spring.

Planning. Preparation. Control.

That's how you keep people alive.

I reach the junction seven minutes before her estimated arrival, position my truck across the access road, and wait.

The plan is simple. Intercept, verify identity, escort her directly to the compound. No stops, no detours, no opportunities for her to decide she needs to investigate some interesting rock formation or follow a deer trail because it looked pretty.

I check my weapon, confirm comms are active, and settle in.

Six minutes.

Five.

Four.

The black Tesla appears around the bend, moving fast. Too fast for these roads, especially for someone unfamiliar with the terrain. I step out of the truck, positioning myself clearly in her line of sight, hands visible.

The Tesla's brakes engage hard. Good reflexes, at least.

She stops twenty meters away. The driver's door opens.

And Mara Plummer steps out looking like she just walked off a magazine cover instead of a six hour flight and a three hour drive.

The photos didn't do her justice.

Auburn curls escaping a messy bun, catching the late morning light like fire.

Hazel eyes scanning the scene with an intelligence that makes something in my chest tighten.

She's wearing what looks like designer casual wear, cream colored sweater and dark jeans that hug curves I have no business noticing.

Athletic build, but soft in all the right places.

Shorter than I expected, maybe five seven in those boots.

And she's looking at me like I'm a puzzle she's already half solved.

"You must be my babysitter." She doesn't sound upset. She sounds amused. "Let me guess. Boone Garrett, former Marine Force Recon, current tactical specialist at Guardian Peak Security, and the poor bastard my father conned into this assignment."

I don't let my surprise show. "Ms. Plummer. You left San Francisco three hours ahead of schedule without security."

"I left San Francisco when I was ready to leave San Francisco." She leans against her car, arms crossed. "And I had security. I just didn't need them hovering while I drove through some of the most beautiful scenery in the country."

"You're under active threat."

"I'm under theoretical threat." She waves a hand dismissively.

"No." I move toward her, slow and deliberate. "There isn't."

She doesn't back up. Doesn't flinch. Just watches me approach with those sharp hazel eyes, and I see the moment she really looks at me. The way her gaze travels from my boots up my legs, over my chest, settles on my face. There’s something in her expression I can’t read.

Interest? Assessment? Both?

"You're bigger than your file suggested," she says.

"You read my file?"

"I read everyone's file." Her smile is quick and devastating. "I like to know who I'm dealing with, Mr. Garrett. Though I'm guessing you already knew that, given how thoroughly you've clearly studied mine."

I stop three feet away. Close enough to see the freckles scattered across her nose, the way her pulse beats in her throat. Close enough to smell something floral and expensive beneath the road dust.

"I studied your file because it's my job to keep you alive," I say. "Which would be easier if you didn't actively work against that goal."

"I'm not working against anything." She pushes off from the car, stepping into my space. She has to tilt her head back to meet my eyes, but she doesn't seem bothered by the height difference. "I'm just not interested in being treated like a child who can't handle her own life."

"Ms. Plummer—"

"Mara."

"Ms. Plummer." I keep my voice level. "In the last six months, you have disabled tracking devices, evaded security details, and put yourself in unnecessary danger on at least seven documented occasions. That's not handling your own life. That's actively sabotaging the people trying to protect it."

For a moment, I see something beneath the confidence. Something that might be frustration, or exhaustion, or maybe just the weight of being Mara Plummer in a world that wants what she's built.

Then it's gone, and she's smiling again.

"Tell you what, Mr. Garrett." She pulls her phone from her pocket, taps something, and a soft ping sounds from my tactical gear.

"That's my personal number. Not the one my father has, not the one my security team has.

Mine. For the next two weeks, I will stay on your precious compound and participate in whatever wilderness training nonsense my father has arranged.

In exchange, you don't treat me like a package to be managed. You treat me like a person. Deal?"

I should be establishing clear boundaries right now, make certain she understands the chain of command.

But she's looking at me with those hazel eyes, chin tilted up, and for a moment I forget every protocol I've ever written.

"Follow my truck," I say instead. "Stay within visual range. When we reach the compound, you'll be briefed on security procedures."

"That wasn't an answer."

"It's the only one you're getting right now." I turn back toward my truck, then stop. Look over my shoulder. "And Ms. Plummer? The next time you feel the need to dismiss your security detail without warning? You call me first. That's not a request."

Her smile widens. "Careful, Mr. Garrett. That almost sounded like you care."

I climb into my truck without responding.

Because the truth is, I've been caring about this woman since I first read her file three weeks ago.

Since I saw that photo and felt something shift in my carefully ordered world.

Since I started planning not just for her security, but for every possible future where I might lose her before I've even had the chance to know her.

Obsession, I think as I watch her climb back into her Tesla. That's what this is. Obsession disguised as professional concern.

I've planned for every contingency in my entire career.

I never planned for Mara Plummer.

Through my rearview mirror, I watch her pull onto the road behind me. She's keeping proper distance, following the route exactly as instructed.

For now.

I press the comm unit in my ear. "Deck, I have the package. ETA to compound, eighteen minutes."

"Copy that. Everything okay?"

I watch the black Tesla in my mirror, driven by a woman who looked at me like she could see straight through every wall I've built.

"Ask me again in two weeks," I say.

Then I focus on the road ahead and try not to think about how completely my carefully controlled world just tilted on its axis.