Fire and Ice (Guardians)

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  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 Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  FIRE AND ICE

  by Victoria Paige

  Copyright © 2013 Victoria Paige

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9891337-0-8

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, names, places, events, organizations either are a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, places or locale is entire coincidental. The publisher is not responsible for any opinion regarding this work on any third-party website that is not affiliated with the publisher or author.

  Cover Design by Derek Murphy of Creativ Indie

  Edited by Michael of First Editing

  Dedication

  For Sina, Lisa, Lynn and all my family and friends, thanks for all the support!

  CHAPTER ONE

  Maia Pierce exited her Audi convertible in the underground parking garage of the Trident building. Located in the central business district of New Park City, Virginia, the building housed the corporate offices of McCord Defense Industries (MDI) on its eighteenth floor. MDI was the premiere advanced weapons contractor for the Department of Defense.

  Protective custody detail was the most boring job in her opinion and one she barely tolerated. But after her last assignment, Viktor felt she needed a break... and a lesson.

  Damn Viktor. What happened wasn't entirely her fault. Wait, yes, it was entirely her fault—her screw-up. But she'd be damned before she left those young girls behind. The RULES were to remain detached, get the mission done and get out. Hopefully, the Russians had not uncovered her identity. This was the reason why Viktor had recalled her from AGS foreign missions, so she could fly under the radar that blanketed the planet like a spider's web.

  Artemis Guardian Services (AGS) or simply "The Guardians" as they were known by most of their clients specialized in small team surgical incursions: K and R (kidnap and ransom), DoD covert ops that were too politically high-risk, Corporate Security Enforcement (usually involving questionable and deadly force), and recently (and seemingly with increasing frequency) protective custody detail outsourced by the US Marshals Service.

  Brett McCord was the assignment. Computer hacker extraordinaire, entangled with the local tri-city drug lord Raul Vergara, McCord had become the star witness for the prosecution. The evidence was hush-hush but had something to do with access to emails, bank accounts and an encrypted list of transactions such as payoffs and names. A conviction would cause a major ripple through the East Coast drug trade taking down major players—including dirty cops within the NPPD and spreading to cities outside New Park like Washington DC. District Attorney Mike Callahan had recently been keeping AGS busy with his crusade to clean up the streets of New Park.

  Mike. Maia sighed. She had not seen him in almost two years.

  MDI was owned by Jack McCord, Brett's older brother. He was an ex-Navy SEAL and now his company was one of DoD's top small weapons suppliers/innovators. Talk about a career military. The brothers couldn't be more different. Brett was an environmental activist and preferred using computer worms and denial-of-service attacks in making a statement against companies that had rubbed him the wrong way. Heck, his FBI rap sheet included hacking into his own brother's company just for being a contractor for the DoD.

  The elevator doors slid open on the 18th floor revealing a sleek modern reception area in all white and silver. Comfortable leather chairs were arranged in an impersonal huddle around an industrial-style coffee table. A gorgeous brunette, who would look more appropriate on the cover of Vogue than as a receptionist to a defense company, leaned past her IMac to scrutinize the newcomer.

  Maia's lips curved imperceptibly. She was used to catty appraisals. Though her beautiful red hair was pulled back and hidden in a chic bun, she was 5'7" with legs that seemed to go on forever and curves in all the right places. Her tailored cream silk suit hid well-muscled arms and thighs, the skirt skimming her toned butt like a glove. She was endowed with a delicate bone structure that flattered her unusual clear blue eyes and her lush sensual lips had come in handy in situations involving lecherous dictators.

  "Maia Pierce for Brett McCord."

  The receptionist inclined her head briefly and pressed the intercom button.

  ***

  "Miss Pierce is here," a husky voice relayed over the intercom.

  "Send her right in," Jack McCord responded. He glanced at Derek Lockwood, his business partner and best friend. "She better be worth our time."

  Though Jack was no sexist, he was disturbed by this development in Brett's protective custody. A hit had been uncovered in time that involved his brother's former security detail. Local law enforcement was so deeply wrapped up in Vergara's web that it had become necessary to bring in outside players. This AGS team came highly vetted by Derek Lockwood and Mike Callahan, but sending a woman to head the protective custody of a witness who could take down a violent drug kingpin brought their judgment to question. Okay, maybe he was a tad sexist.

  The door to the conference room swung open and the stunning vision of Maia Pierce swept through. It took all of Jack's discipline to keep his jaw from dropping but he couldn't help the uncomfortable stirring that shot straight to his groin. The picture of her on the advanced dossier of the Guardians had not prepared him for this.

  Jack was rich and extremely attractive and he had no shortage of beautiful women on his arm and in his bed. But he had never, in his entire life, seen a woman this exquisite.

  Derek moved quickly to hug the visitor and Jack felt an odd twinge of possessive jealousy.

  "Hey, gorgeous!"

  "Derek." Maia flashed a dazzling smile up to his friend before nodding to Mike Callahan with a more reserved, "Counselor."

  Jack's brow shot up, noticing the way Mike Callahan's face turned instantly stony and although Miss Pierce's face revealed nothing, he knew in his gut there was a story there. Interesting.

  "I gotta ask, how do you stop the bad guys? By flashing your boobs?" Brett piped in obnoxiously.

  "Jesus, Brett," Derek muttered.

  "Actually, you'd be surprise how effective that play is," Maia drawled, not flustered in the least.

  Jack swallowed a chuckle as Bret visibly stilled, then his idiotic brother gave a shit-eating grin, stood up and shook hands with Maia while his eyes drifted to her ample bosom. "I guess you know I'm Brett—your assigned pain in the ass."

  "And I'm Jack McCord, welcome Miss Pierce," Jack rose up to his full 6'3" and grasped Maia's hand firmly. "You'll have to excuse my brother: he's been under a lot of stress from the recent attempts on his life."

  "No apologies. I get that all the time, although not often quite as direct."

  Facing the four men in the room, she opened her briefcase and switched to all business. "Shall we get started?"

  Jack nodded his go-ahead.

  "You've already received the dossier of my team. Six
people will be guarding Castle—codename for the safe house—two outside for perimeter surveillance and four inside. There will be position rotations between the six. It shouldn't be too hard since we only have to keep Mr. McCord safe for 60 hours and every single member on the team can stay sharp for extended time periods. Here's the layout of the structure and the schematics of the security installed. Alarms and cameras of the interior and exterior are connected to AGS headquarters with 24-hour monitoring. There is an onsite panic room. We have our own emergency response team. Everything we do is kept below the police radar. We also have our own paramedics for the odd gunshot wound."

  "Uh...what about life-threatening injuries?" Brett interjected. "Like getting shot through the chest?"

  "Since you'll be wearing a vest, you'll be fine—unless they aim for your head or use armor-piercing bullets. In any case, they'll have to get through me and my men to get to you," Maia assured confidently. "But if it is a life-threatening injury, we'll have to take you to the hospital and unfortunately it'll be on everyone's radar by then. We really don't want that." Maia laid both palms on the table and leaned in towards Brett. "So Brett, it is very important that you do exactly as you are told. If we tell you to stay put, you stay put. If we tell you to haul ass, you ... haul ... ass."

  At that point, Jack understood what it meant to underestimate the female Guardian. Her beautiful blue eyes turned frosty with cold determination, managing to hold his brother's gaze despite offering an eyeful of cleavage when she leaned forward. Jack had no doubt Miss Pierce was skilled in the use of guns and knives, but her biggest asset was psychological misdirection. An unsuspecting enemy would certainly underestimate her. Always. And before he had realized his mistake, he would have taken a bullet through his head. Maia Pierce was a beautiful stealth weapon.

  "Delivery as usual?" Mike Callahan broke in.

  "Yes. Under the courthouse. I will personally do the handover, my men will follow through to the courtroom," Maia confirmed.

  Jack frowned. Leafing through his file-copy of the playbook, he said, "You're not hanging around for the trial?"

  "No. My assignment ends when I deliver McCord to the DA. The prosecution's protective detail will be expanded to include him. They will take him to your designated estate after the trial to lay low until everyone involved is apprehended. No use having two leads on this."

  "Some other place you need to be?"

  "No."

  Jack smiled. One word answers of the evasive kind. They stared at each other for a beat; her eyes flashed challengingly into his, almost daring him to ask another question. Then she shifted her gaze back to his brother.

  "Brett, we will need to scan your laptop for bugs and tracking devices. I'm sure Derek had already done that but I'd like to do it again. No offense, Derek."

  "None taken," Derek replied.

  "I also hope you have no cell phone on you. We have a secure SAT phone at the safe house. After the scan is done, we're all set to go. I'll have my men bring the transport over to the underground garage, load you up and we'll rendezvous at Castle."

  Shifting her attention to address everyone in the room, she said, "Any questions or concerns, voice them now. After we leave here, I prefer to limit communications."

  ***

  Maia frowned at the recent report from the AGS data center. They had been at Castle for 48 hours without incident. Striding with her tablet to the kitchen where Brett and three of her men—Manning, Danner and Edmunds—were having dinner, she clicked on the communications device to the rest of her team patrolling outside. "Chavez, Lucas, you guys on?"

  "Affirmative, boss."

  "An update from base. It's not good. Been confirmed that Vergara has brought in some PMCs from Eastern Europe."

  A flurry of expletives erupted around the room and on comms.

  Brett quirked an eyebrow. "PMCs?"

  "Private military contractor. Mercenaries."

  "How come we're hearing of this only now? We're screwed aren't we?" Brett's agitation started spiraling out of control.

  Maia shook her head. How could two brothers be more different? Jack McCord exuded badass calm, contained in that delicious lean compacted-muscular physique of his, while Brett—though equally handsome—was lanky and rife with nervous energy.

  "Oh ye of little faith," Maia muttered. "Brett, calm down. We deal with their kind on a regular basis."

  Brett pushed back from the table and started pacing. Maia sighed and continued the briefing. "Guys, it seems we won't be dealing with amateur gun slingers plucked from the streets of Mexico after all. There was enough chatter to warrant a cross-check with Immigration arrivals compared to what we have in our database. Our intel suggests the PMCs got in 36 hours ago via Dulles airport. Two guys have been identified, but we think there are eight. Viktor has alerted the emergency response team (ERT) just in case we get hit."

  "The road leading to Castle is mostly deserted, it shouldn't be too hard to identify hostile transport," Danner added.

  "Manning, do we have satellite uplink?" Maia asked.

  "Yes. Cycles every 3 minutes covering the exit to Castle."

  "Castle is about 30 clicks from the main highway, that should give us roughly 20 minutes heads up."

  "That's not a lot of time," Brett, ever the devil's advocate, spoke up.

  "How long would it take you to get into your vest and dive into the panic room?" Maia shot back.

  "I'm not going in there—claustrophobic," Brett declared.

  Before Brett knew what was happening, his ass hit the chair, Maia's palm squarely on his chest.

  "Is this some kind of damn joke? You're telling me this now?" Maia snapped furiously. "Listen McCord, it doesn't matter. I'm bundling you into that room whether you like it or not."

  "Your manhandling is kinda hot." Brett grinned, wiping the tension momentarily from his face before his shoulders slumped in resignation. "I'm not too claustrophobic."

  Maia looked up to the ceiling as if praying for divine intervention.

  The SAT phone rang. Viktor.

  "Pierce."

  "Maia, there are eight hostiles. We've connected three of them to Reznikov."

  "What? Reznikov is linked to Vergara?"

  "It would appear so. Reznikov may be using Vergara to move the new recreational drug they have developed and isn't too happy with Vergara's impending incarceration." He paused before adding. "Maia, I need to pull you out. It's too dangerous for you."

  "No.We're in the home stretch."

  "If Reznikov identifies you as the one who burned him in Russia, he'll come for you with all he's got."

  Small world.

  "I'll ... be ... fine."

  "I never should've ..."

  "Viktor, damn it, I'll be fine."

  "I'll monitor chatter. Keep you posted."

  Viktor disconnected.

  Well, this bodyguard detail wasn't turning out to be too boring after all.

  Four hours later.

  "They're 20 clicks out," Lucas crackled through the radio. Ten minutes earlier, two black SUVs had taken the exit to Castle from the main highway.

  "Copy that," Maia returned and handed a Kevlar vest to Brett. "Put this on."

  Danner skidded into the room, assault rifle cocked nonchalantly on his arm. "Panic room checked. Response team is on its the way."

  Maia nodded. "Take McCord into the panic room."

  Gunfire erupted and illuminated the courtyard. Lucas and Chavez were in elevated positions on external tower structures, camouflaged by trees, giving them sniper advantage. Manning and Edmunds were providing distracting fire behind the front windows and Danner was guarding the back.

  Castle was a ranch-style house sparsely built on five acres of heavily wooded land. It had minimal furnishings and architecture because it kept getting blown up and rebuilt. All the windows were retrofitted with bars so that, even if the glass was broken, people couldn't get in. Unfortunately, unless you had a key, you couldn't get out either. The bars we
re configured like a gate and were on titanium hinges with a depressed locking mechanism located discreetly at the bottom right. There were two exits, front reinforced double doors and a steel back door located in the kitchen.

  "Talk to me guys," Maia spoke over the radio. She was crouched behind a sofa crafted with a bulletproof frame near the entrance leading to the panic room. "How many?"

  "Two are down—I think Vergara's foot soldiers. There are eight mercs plus two more foot soldiers. They're hiding behind the SUVs, bulletproof."

  "Copy that," Maia replied. Figures. So it was going to be a waiting game. "Danner, ETA on response team?"

  "Ten minutes."

  "Fuck! RPG!" Lucas yelled through comms.

  Suddenly an explosion rocked the outside wall. They were taking out their snipers.

  "Breach!" Manning yelled.

  "Lucas! Chavez! Report!"

  Nothing.

  Shit.

  "Manning, Edmunds, fall back from the windows!"

  Maia had barely gotten the words out when another explosion shattered the front door and blew out the windows and bars. Plaster rained down and a few deadly iron bars pierced the hardwood floors. Manning and Danner were unfazed and took up defensive positions further into the house. Maia scrambled towards the panic room and punched in the code. Opening the vault-like portal and without saying a word, she yanked Brett out and dragged him behind the sofa.

  "Stay down!" she ordered.

  "They're moving in. Brace!" Chavez yelled through comms.

  "Are you okay?" Maia asked.

  "Lucas is unconscious. I'm okay but I think my leg is broken."

  Two canisters were thrown into the room amidst a hail of gunfire. Tear gas. Well, we're ready for that, Maia smiled grimly.

  "What do we do now? Why did you take me from the panic room?" Brett whispered.

  Maia spun Brett around and fitted him with a respirator before putting one on herself.