Raw Edge of Danger
Omega Team, Book 1
Grey Holden was on a mission to find the source of illegal arms. The death of his best friend on a compromised mission left him filled with anger and dedicated to bringing down whoever was responsible. Athena Madero had her own mission, to take down a major politician who had been preying on young girls for a long time. She hated him enough to quit her job as a cop and go on her own hunt for evidence. When she and Grey crossed paths, chemistry sparked and suddenly, unexpectedly, shockingly, there was a lot more between them than searching for evidence and pinning down a traitor. In a split second, they were riding the raw edge of danger. Together.
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Grey couldn’t have asked for a better night for this mission. And that was what it was, in reality. A mission, just as important as so many others he’d been on. Maybe even more, because this involved a promise and a commitment that was intensely personal. There were no stars at all in the sky, and the tiny sliver of moon barely cast any light. The soft breeze rustling the leaves on the mature pin oaks and palm trees would cover any sound he might make, although he’d shock himself if he created even as much as a whisper.
He’d used all the information he’d gathered in his one visit to the community to plot this mission on his laptop. It amazed him how easy it was to identify the weak spots in Tanglewood security as well as Drake Bostic’s house. It was almost laughable what civilians, even those with a lot to hide like the senator, thought was foolproof protection. Maybe against the average crook, but not against a trained Delta Force soldier.
He waited until full dark before he made his move, parking his car at a place he’d scoped out just around the corner from the entrance to Tanglewood, and mentally reviewed where all the bodies would be. He’d learned a long time ago how much information you could get for a very little money.
Drake Bostic’s schedule showed the man at a political fundraiser for the evening. Since the event was to raise money for his campaign, he’d be one of the last to leave. His driver would be at the country club waiting for him, and Grey had learned the two household staff in residence had the night off.
Finding a breach in the perimeter security was a snap. The residents had mistakenly thought that because they’d built this huge twelve-foot-high two-mile-long brick wall completely surrounding them, they were secure. Grey had broken into enemy compounds with much more sophisticated security and not even raised an alarm.
When he was satisfied it was dark enough, he hoisted himself over the brick wall at a place where it curved around a forested area. Jesus. How much money do these disgusting people have to spend when they can afford a brick wall like this?
Strapped to his back was a small knapsack with the equipment he’d need for tonight’s action. It amazed him what kind of equipment he could buy with no security whatsoever on the
Internet. And, he was sure, for a lot less money than Uncle Sam paid. He’d assembled everything he needed, and now he crept through the blackness, making sure to skirt the perimeter of the houses close to his destination. He was lucky Bostic’s house backed up to the golf course, although he wondered why a man with so many secrets would want a location that left him open to being breached so effortlessly. Oh, well. Just easier for him.
Finally reaching his target, he used an electromagnetic device to disable the alarm system, the cameras, and the sensors. He was sure Bostic was convinced he’d bought the very best in electronic protection, but there was a way around anything. Grey was an expert in finding whatever those were. He skirted the back door, sure it would have a chain in addition to other locks. The den had a sliding glass door leading out to a patio. He took his phone from his pocket and scrolled through his files until he pulled up the floor plan of the house. When he’d studied the blueprints at the county building, he’d not only photographed them but also memorized them. Now he was just double checking to make sure he knew where to go.
This looked like the best point of entry, although the senator had to be pretty dumb—or too confident of his security system—not to use a room closed on all sides. He slid the door open noiselessly and eased himself just as quietly inside.
The house was dark, so he clicked on a tiny penlight, cupping his hand around it just in case, and began looking around the room. This would be the most logical place Bostic would keep records of his illegal dealings. People like him always kept records, thinking to use them for blackmail if necessary.
Sure enough, he found it in a far corner of the room, behind a sliding panel with a concealed switch. But nothing hid from him. Holding the penlight between his teeth, he took out his tools and began to decipher the combination to the safe. He just about had it open when a whisper of sound alerted him to the opening of the slider again. Someone else in the den.