CAST OF CHARACTERS

      Erin Bailey—Wrongly imprisoned for a crime she did not commit, Erin is desperate to regain her freedom and her life. But can she trust the handsome stranger who makes her an offer that sounds too good to be true?

      John Logan—A specialist in a highly covert government organization, can he accomplish the mission no one else has been able to, and keep his “new” partner alive at the same time?

      Thomas Casey—The enigmatic director of Mission Recovery.

      Lucas Camp—Deputy director of Mission Recovery. He will do whatever is necessary to take care of his specialists. His people are his number one priority.

      Pablo Esteban—A brutal and infamous drug smuggler and gunrunner. He hires only the best and only couples. No one disappoints Esteban.

      Maria Esteban—Pablo’s sister. He protects her to the extent that she is all but a prisoner in her own home.

      Larry and Sheila Watters—A couple who want to remain number one in Esteban’s eyes. They will stop at nothing to keep that position.

      Hector and Carlos Caldarone—Brothers who have worked for Esteban and managed to stay alive longer than anyone else.

      Vincent Ferrelli—Another specialist, and Logan’s only backup in Colombia.

      Ramon and Maverick—Two top members of Mission Recovery’s Detail and Housekeeping Team.

      This book is dedicated to all the American men and women who risk their lives every day to keep our country safe and free in too many capacities to name.

       God bless you all.

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter One

      “What’s so important that it couldn’t wait until I reported in day after tomorrow?” John Logan dropped into one of the upholstered chairs flanking the director’s desk. He and his partner hadn’t taken any real time off in over eight months. They were due some serious R&R—past due. This little trip back to D.C. hadn’t been on Logan’s agenda for the day.

      He forced himself to relax. The jet lag was definitely catching up to him. Or, he thought wryly, maybe it was last night’s margaritas. A smile hitched his lips when he considered the private party he’d had with that sweet little senorita. Too bad this morning’s pre-dawn wake-up call had dragged him from the rumpled bed before they’d had the opportunity to share an encore.

      “We have a problem.” Lucas Camp, Deputy Director of Mission Recovery’s Special Operations, leaned against the edge of Director Casey’s desk, his solemn gaze resting on Logan.

      The undercurrent in Lucas’s tone tugged Logan’s wayward thoughts back to the here and now. Uneasiness tightened in his chest. He knew that tone, that look. Lucas was searching for the best way to say what needed to be said. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

      Logan straightened in his chair, instantly running down a list of possible scenarios. “What kind of problem?”

      Director Thomas Casey stepped into the dim pool of light provided by the brass lamp on his desk. The man always lingered in the shadows. As new to the organization as he was, Casey had already garnered himself a reputation for the cloak-and-dagger routine.

      Logan, his senses rushing toward full-scale alert, shifted his attention to Casey. Something big was about to go down.

      “We may have to abort the South American mission.” Casey’s gaze pierced Logan’s with the intensity of twin blue laser beams. “Taylor is dead.”

      Dead?

      Logan was on his feet with no memory of how he’d gotten there. Jess Taylor was his partner. They had parted company just forty-eight hours ago to take some quick downtime before their mission began. How could she be dead? Logan shook his head in denial. There had to be a mistake.

      “We just—she was…” Logan’s voice faltered beneath the steady gazes fixed on him. There was no way either of these two men, his superiors, would lie to him. “How?” He barely recognized the harsh sound as his own voice.

      “Sanchez hit her outside the airport in L.A.,” Lucas said quietly. “We know it was him because there were three eyewitnesses. Based on the description, there’s no question.”

      Fury roared inside Logan. Sanchez, the weasel son of a bitch. Logan should have killed him when he had the chance. But Sanchez had begged for mercy and sworn that he would spill his guts about the drug runners trafficking for the Mexican kingpin Mission Recovery had worked to bring down for nearly a year. Jess had fallen, hook, line and sinker, for Sanchez’s act. Logan hadn’t trusted him, but he had deferred to Jess’s judgment. Now he was sorry. But not half as sorry as Sanchez would be.

      “Where is he?”

      Lucas raised an eyebrow at the savage sound of Logan’s demand. “We’re taking