Mission Her Justice - Anna Hackett Page 0,2
was breathless. “Axel, we’re at work.”
“Don’t care.” He kissed her again. “Missed you.”
“You were only gone a few hours.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Nat’s face softened.
The pair had recently fallen in love. When Nat had been attacked and kidnapped, Axel had finally confronted his feelings for her.
A strange sensation, not quite comfortable, moved through Jonah’s chest. All his team had paired up and fallen in love in what felt like a short time. It had started with Lachlan falling for a woman—Dr. Rowan Schafer—they’d rescued in the Arctic. And it hadn’t stopped.
“I’m going to track down my man.” River headed off to the lab to find Ty.
“Me too.” Callie made a beeline to the computer room where Brooks was.
Jonah sighed. He probably should have implemented a no-fraternization policy, at some point.
Still, they were all happy.
Love. It could be good for some, he knew that. But he saw it as a huge risk.
Loving someone, losing them, could destroy. It was a weakness that your enemies could exploit.
His mother’s death had almost shattered a sixteen-year-old Jonah. It had just been the two of them for years, his beautiful mom, with her long, dark hair, high cheekbones, and velvet-brown eyes. She’d been a member of the Chickasaw nation, and raised in Oklahoma. She’d always been smiling.
Until a boyfriend had beaten her to death.
Jonah shook his head. Love had led his mother astray, left her alone, pregnant, and abandoned by her family. Then it had killed her.
Work. Jonah’s only love was serving his country, keeping people safe.
He strode to the computer room—Brooks’ domain.
The doors slid open. Screens covered all the walls, and there was a high work table in the center. It was where Callie was kissing the hell out of Jonah’s tech guru.
Jonah cleared his throat. “Definitely needed a no-fraternization policy.”
Callie broke the kiss, and pushed some of Brooks’ brown hair off his face affectionately. “Too late now.” She winked. “See you later, baby.” She stalked out.
With a goofy grin, Brooks watched Callie’s ass as she left. “Hey, boss-man.”
“Any progress on the search for the woman?”
Brooks’ smile evaporated. “Sorry, Jonah. Nothing yet. The woman is a damn ghost, and clearly good with tech. Somehow, she tampered with the base’s cameras when she got in, but left no sign of it.” Frustration, and reluctant admiration, filled his voice. “Your redhead is good.”
“She’s not mine.” Jonah’s fingers curled into his palm. “Keep searching.”
Brooks nodded.
Jonah was going to find her. Whatever it took.
Jonah strode into the sumptuous lobby of the Paris Las Vegas Casino. Large, glittering chandeliers hung from the ceiling, making you feel like you’d stepped into a French palace.
A woman in a little black dress strode past him, her lips parting, and she shot him a flirtatious grin.
He kept moving. Tonight wasn’t about pleasure. He had to keep his cover intact. Hobnob, listen to wealthy and powerful people who wanted him to pass information on to the president. Plus, he kept his ear to the ground for any murmurs about rare or strange artifacts.
He stepped inside the elevator and it whizzed him up the repaired replica Eiffel Tower. Entering the restaurant, he admired the incredible view of the lights of the Strip, and the Bellagio Casino across the road.
From up here, it was impossible to tell that it had been the scene of destruction not that long ago.
The president had not been happy with that mess. Occasionally, Team 52’s missions got messy. Still, they’d beaten the bad guys, secured the artifact, and saved a lot of lives. That was what was important.
All around the elegant room, people dressed in tuxedos and eveningwear sipped champagne, talked, and laughed politely.
Jonah took a flute of champagne from a server and sipped. Mmm. Dom Pérignon.
If only his mom could see him now. In his custom-tailored tuxedo, sipping expensive champagne. She’d been a teenaged Native American girl, kicked out of her home for getting pregnant by an older man who’d used her. But she’d loved Jonah. She’d worked multiple jobs, leaned on her neighbors to babysit him, and even when they’d been penniless, she’d showered him in love.
You’re going to be someone one day, Jonah. My beautiful, smart boy.
After her death, he’d vowed to make her proud.
“Grayson.” A middle-aged man with steel-gray hair and a designer tuxedo moved forward, hand outstretched. “Good to see you.”
“Winkleman.” Jonah shook the wealthy casino owner’s hand.
“There are some people I’d like to introduce you to. Been discussing the redevelopment plans for the Westgate Project.”
Time to start hobnobbing.
Jonah shook hands and talked politely, smiled, and gave vague answers