Secrets Unsealed: A Triggerman Inc. Story Read online

  Secrets Unsealed

  A Triggerman Inc. Story

  Marie Harte

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and plot points stem from the writer’s imagination. They are fictitious and not to be interpreted as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locations or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  ISBN-13: 978-1642920284

  Secrets Unsealed

  Copyright © April 2019 by Marie Harte

  No Box Books

  Cover by Sweet ‘N Spicy Designs

  * * *

  All Rights Are Reserved. None of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without express written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for reviews or promotion.

  http://marieharte.com

  * * *

  For exclusive excerpts, news, and contests, sign up for Marie’s newsletter.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Thank You

  To Hunt a Sainte Excerpt

  A Major Attraction Excerpt

  Also by Marie Harte

  About the Author

  One

  Sinaloa, Mexico

  2 years ago

  The echo of gunfire in the massive compound told Shadow to be ready. The Diablo Blanco Cartel had planted their base of operations outside the city, so as not to interfere with another major player situated in the capitol of Culiacán Rosales. Frankly, Shadow was relieved not to have to deal with the problems in the city. But their distance from civilization put him and his team at the mercy of the cartel, who controlled all roads in and out of the compound.

  Shadow had bigger problems than worrying about his escape route. He’d been tasked with retrieving some valuable documents on behalf of their client. Discretion was everything, so he had to get the goods while not giving away the Business’s part in the takedown. Just some random thief trying to make off with million-dollar information.

  Fortunately, he wasn’t the only contractor the Business had sent on this particular mission. He’d spotted the other two agents, despite their attempts to go unnoticed.

  Information was his stock and trade, and Shadow’s life depended upon what he knew and didn’t know. Like the fact that Juan Chavez didn’t exactly rule the cartel, despite all evidence to the contrary. He knew the patterned route of the pair of cartel mercs now securing the server room; it took them right past him. He even knew who the guards were and what they’d done.

  With one guard running only four minutes in front of the other, he wouldn’t have much time. As soon as the mercenary left the hallway to check on the outer station to the server room, Shadow moved without a sound, came up behind the giant, and slit his throat. The mean bastard with a predilection for young boys should have been disposed of a long time ago, and Shadow’s relief at taking out this piece of trash felt more than right.

  He dragged the body back behind a large desk. Normally manned by Chavez’s secretary, it remained unoccupied, no doubt because Chavez was banging the hell out of the young woman somewhere in the compound. Not that Shadow could blame him, but a smarter man wouldn’t give the woman he was cheating on the codes to his security. Especially since she’d known all along about his “whore on the side” who had an appetite for older men.

  Jealousy, the emotion that kept on giving. Not that Shadow had ever had a reason to feel it in his lifetime. Seeing the destruction it could cause gave him just one more reason to steer clear of romantic relationships. Nope. Shadow had his fun and left, then focused on the job.

  He waited, knowing the remaining merc was too smart to be taken unaware. Adrenaline surged through him, a welcome respite from the tedium of stakeouts and information gathering.

  Hiding behind the desk next to the dead body, he prepared himself for gunfire, maybe even some hand-to-hand. Of the two mercs, this one would be harder to beat.

  As expected, the man came in firing. Shadow waited for the sound of his footsteps growing closer, heard a significant pause as the merc reloaded. Taking advantage of the lull, Shadow darted out low to slash the man’s Achilles tendon before darting back behind the desk. He peered around it as the merc slammed home a new magazine and turned, continuing to fire even as he crumbled to the ground.

  Shadow took a chance and rolled free from cover once more. He threw his knife at his opponent’s throat. A bit of gurgling, some wet coughing, then silence. Once assured the merc would cause no more problems, he entered the server room, memory drive in hand.

  He quickly found the correct terminal and downloaded all he needed. Then he systematically destroyed the towers of equipment and started an electrical fire that would burn like a mother.

  Pleased at all he’d accomplished in so little time, he slid quietly out of the room, down the hall, and outside, keeping to the dark. Guns continued to fire, the ongoing distraction giving him time to get out. Shouts and panic ensued. Backup must have arrived.

  A few explosions added to the chaos steadily growing. It was like the fourth of July on crack, with fireworks of explosives blowing in random bursts, spattered by less than joyful gunfire.

  A glance at an overhead skywalk linking the main house to the intelligence headquarters showed Destroyer engaged in close combat with four of Chavez’s lieutenants. A fellow contractor, Destroyer had been deep undercover for months. The poor mercs working alongside him hadn’t expected one of their own to turn on them. But then, Destroyer was good like that. He could pass as the baddy nine times out of ten.

  While he occupied the guards and Shadow stole their information, Ice would be taking care of Chavez.

  Shadow would have liked to stick around to help, but the client had priority. Time to hustle to make the drop.

  * * *

  Two hours later, another successful job accomplished.

  Yet the pleasure he normally felt for a job well done didn’t come. Another dickhead drug dealer, rapist, dictator. Spin the wheel and choose a never-ending swell of villains needing to be swept out from under the rug and drowned in the river of justice. Of vengeance. Shadow wasn’t picky when righting the wrongs of this world.

  But right now, he wanted nothing more than to drown himself…in a good beer or tequila, God willing.

  He found the tiny cantina as shabby and filled with riffraff as it had been when he’d scouted it out earlier. Thankfully, no sign of any major troublemakers. Just the typical drunks and hardworking people of Culiacán wanting a break.

  “Yo.” Destroyer sat down next to him, though Shadow hadn’t seen him arrive.

  “Not bad. You’re getting better at being sneaky.”

  Destroyer shrugged. “With a body this big, I gotta start stepping lightly.”

  “Yeah, or he’ll end up with my foot up his ass,” Ice growled, coming in behind them.

  Typically difficult to rouse, Ice didn’t get upset easily. Shadow raised a brow at Destroyer, who seemed to hunch in on himself.

  “Aw, come on, man. I said I’m sorry. How was I to know you had him covered? I was just trying to help.” He slid a wink at Shadow. Ah, fucking with Ice. Nothing better.

  “Trying to help, right.” Ice took a seat at the table. “I had the merc in my sights when your fat head suddenly got in the way. And I know you knew I was there, because I caught that smirk you shot me. It’s like you’re trying to
see how far you can push me before I kill you.”

  Destroyer shrugged, and Shadow had to wonder if the guy had a death wish. No one screwed with Ice. The Business’s number one hitman had a reputation for being as cold as his namesake.

  Ice sighed. “I’m too tired to deal with you. How about you buy a round of drinks and attempt to placate me?”

  “Oh, big words. Sure thing, buddy.” Destroyer grinned, knowing they were never to use code names in public. “So, Noel, what’ll you have?”

  Noel’s gaze was on someone by the bar. “I think I’m in the mood for something smooth. I’ll start with some tequila. And not the cheap stuff either.”

  “Like he’s reading my mind.” Shadow nodded. “What Noel said, Hammer. The good stuff.” In civilian circles, Destroyer went by Hammer, short for Hamilton Aston Montgomery III. Talk about a mouthful that didn’t seem to fit the giant bruiser Deacon knew.

  And that’s when he saw her. A gorgeous woman with dark hair, dark eyes, and a body made for sin. Shadow grinned. “I could go for some booze and quality downtime too. Oh yeah.”

  “Fine. First bottle’s on me,” Hammer said with good cheer. The guy was never down. Even if he was covered in gore, he always wore a ready smile. “But you’re on your own with the ladies.” Hammer made eyes at the chica behind the bar giving him a flirty look. “Man, I got a good feeling about tonight.”

  Shadow—no, he had to think of himself as Deacon now—agreed. After easing into a few drinks, enough to take the edge off but no more than that, he felt ready to relax. Or at least, try to relax as best he could anymore. Mellowed out, he nodded a goodbye to the guys and sought the beauty wanting his company.

  The woman helped. A few times. But when he woke in the morning, she was gone. Nothing but a whisper of her perfume and the press of her red lips into a white napkin with a smiley drawn on it to show she’d been there at all.

  His cell phone vibrated. He picked up. “Yeah?”

  “You’ve got another job,” his handler said.

  “And good morning to you too,” Deacon mumbled, still fuzzy from the woman and four hours of blessed sleep.

  Big Joe didn’t miss a beat. “Head back to the airstrip by fifteen hundred. Get on the Anzollo plane.”

  “Where to?”

  “I’ll brief you once you’re in Istanbul. We’ve got a situation.” Big Joe disconnected.

  Shadow sighed. Back to my regularly scheduled life. But inwardly, he questioned, There’s got to be more than this, right?

  Fifteen months later

  Bainbridge Island, Washington

  “That… I have no words. Never seen it go down that hard, that fast, before.” Hammer shook his head. “I mean, I’ve seen some shit. But that’s just brutal.”

  Deacon watched the free-for-all and winced when a blond went down under the fists of her supposed friend. “Damn. Think we should help?”

  Hammer raised a brow. “Are you on crack? Because that’s one of the dumbest things to come out of your mouth in a while. And considering it’s you, that’s saying something.”

  “Ha ha. Aren’t you the funny guy?” Deacon didn’t do drugs and rarely drank anymore, and then never to excess. Men in their line of work had to be alert and aware at all times.

  This new situation, working and living around other contractors, men he now called friends, felt both different and intriguing. It was like Mexico all over again, but this time he wasn’t working in loose conjunction with the guys. This time they truly worked as a team.

  And man, what a job it was. He grinned, watching as two redheads started screaming at the mess, then at each other. One of them slugged the other in the mouth. That had to hurt. “I don’t know. I think we should do something.”

  “Be my guest.” Hammer took a deliberate step back.

  Before Deacon could act, the epitome of femininity, sex appeal, and quick-witted sarcasm entered the scene. And now my day is complete.

  Tall, gorgeous, with honey-brown eyes and golden hair wrapped up in a ponytail, Solene Hansen made his heart race, his palms sweat, and his mind turn clean off. Being near her amplified other things, though. As usual, he had to work to calm his raging body.

  Hammer chuckled. “Solene to the rescue.”

  As she whipped by them, she turned and scowled. “Protection.” She snorted. “Gimme a break. You two are useless.” She hurried to separate the cluster of screaming toddlers while they fought over a spilled tower of building blocks. Her new assistant, an older woman named Darcy, was already trying to break things up. Solene soon lifted the instigator in her arms and turned, making a beeline straight for them.

  Hammer used Deacon as shield, and when Solene drew too close, gave him a not-so-gentle nudge forward.

  Deacon stumbled. “Son of a—”

  “Here,” Solene snarled, though her hands remained careful as she placed the little girl in Deacon’s arms. “Hold Fiona.” She returned to the melee on the brightly colored play mats, separating the dueling redheads.

  He froze as an adorable, grubby toddler stared up at him with wide blue eyes. Hammer’s laughter wasn’t helping.

  Fiona patted his cheeks, her hands soft and tiny. “You’re pretty.”

  “That’s what they all say.” He started to relax, in his element charming the ladies, be they three or—he considered Solene—thirty. Then again, everyone but Solene found him delightful.

  The adorable Fiona giggled, batted her eyelashes at him, and told him all about her brother, the mean destroyer of blocks, and her stuffed animals. He nodded, taken by her innocence, wondering if he’d ever been that pure. The little girl smiled until Hammer stepped closer, then she tried to hide in Deacon’s shirt.

  “You’re scaring her,” he told his friend.

  “I have that effect on women.” Hammer’s expression turned sly. “Kind of like your effect on Solene.”

  “Aren’t you the comedian today?”

  Hammer shrugged. “Well, funny beats depressing, and the news I found out isn’t going to make anyone happy.”

  Deacon sharpened his attention. “Oh?”

  He and Hammer had been dragged into a mess of epic proportions a month ago. A mystery woman had dropped a baby on Noel’s doorstep, claiming Noel had fathered him in Mexico. So of course, Noel tried to blame Deacon and Hammer for fathering the kid. Just because they’d all been in Sinaloa at the same time didn’t mean Deacon had been stupid enough to screw a woman without protection.

  Not that it would have mattered anyway.

  Hammer glanced from the little girl to Solene and back to Deacon. “I’ll tell you when we get back.” To Noel’s place went unsaid.

  Somehow Ice—Noel, he had to remind himself—had become their leader. Christ. Just thinking that made Deacon want to wash his brain out with bleach. He had no problem taking orders from his handler because Big Joe didn’t boss him around. He provided guidelines and support while Deacon took charge. Deacon’s assignments—his targets—were of his own choosing. Deacon prized the notion of control.

  Still, Noel wasn’t a bad guy. Cold, meticulous, never failed in his missions. And now in love and supposedly retired. Crazy.

  Deacon still had a hard time believing the ice man had decided to settle down. Mr. Bullseye now wanted nothing more than to plant tomatoes and play footsie with his hot girlfriend.

  “You still buying that Noel’s going to quit the biz?”

  Hammer shrugged. “Never would have thought, but he looks good with Addy. He’s all calm and shi—stuff.” Hammer cleared his throat when Fiona blinked her big blue eyes at him. “Point is, we need to be talking about this somewhere else. Somewhere more…secure.”

  The big guy ducked as a foam ball flew past his head.

  “You think?” Deacon snorted. “Gee, Hammer. Maybe we should make you the brains of this operation.” He cradled Fiona, missing the feeling of a baby in his arms. He’d never have admitted it out loud, but he liked caring for Noel Jr.—what he and Hammer called the mystery baby at
the crux of their current dilemma.

  “Did someone say brains?” Solene asked from behind him.

  He forced himself not to start, because no one took him by surprise. Except Solene, apparently. The woman had somehow gotten beneath his skin and no longer constituted a threat to his combat awareness. On a physical level, he could handle anything she threw at him. But on an emotional one? She scared him to death.

  He didn’t know what to make of her. For a solid month, he’d done nothing but fantasize and obsess over her. He couldn’t understand it. He had looks, money, savvy. Women threw themselves at him without him having to try hard at all.

  But Solene didn’t fall for any of his lines, his charm, or his looks. As gorgeous as she was, he knew his physical appeal wouldn’t be enough to snag her. Like him, she often had the opposite sex throwing themselves at her. Surely, she had to feel their chemistry. God knew he couldn’t look at her without getting hard.

  This close, with her breath on the back of his neck, he had to force himself not to react as she rounded and took the girl from him. She handed Fiona off to Annie, who’d just gotten off her break, before saying something about leaving for the day, a few hours shy of her regular six p.m. quitting time.

  “Great.” Hammer blew out a relieved breath. “Can we get something to eat now? I’m starving.”

  “Why are you here?” she asked and, with a nod at Deacon, added, “Isn’t Prince Charming enough to guard me from whatever it is you’re still worried about?”

  “Yes and no.” Hammer held up a huge hand to forestall her questions. “Look, we got some new info to share. Time to head back to central to discuss it.”