Lt. Brianna Jackson crouched low, aimed her sleek TrackingPoint bolt-action rifle at a group of fierce-looking, gun-wielding men, and then fired in rapid succession. Their screams of pain brought a smirk to Brianna's mouth. Those crooks had no idea who they were up against.
Brianna was a member of the Arrowheads, a Classified Black Ops task force division of the FBI, whose members were drawn from elite Navy SEAL teams for special operations, and then released to join their own teams afterward. Its operations were unknown to many inside the organization. It was headed by a Navy Admiral. The Arrowheads were usually called upon whenever there were specific dangerous operations that were usually almost suicidal in description. They were the best of the best. What was different about Brianna's current mission, however, was that it wasn't authorized.
Lt. Brianna Jackson was working on her own without any authorization from her Admiral or the knowledge of anyone in her squad. The plan to go solo and find some well-needed answers had been hatched by Brianna on her last mission. On Brianna's last mission, which had been headed by her since her immediate supervisor hadn't been available, the Arrowheads had lost two of their men. They'd been investigating an underground black market gun sale. Much as losing her colleagues had been a big blow, Brianna had been even more confused because it was obvious they'd been betrayed from the inside. She had, therefore, made it her personal goal to find out who was behind their failed mission. Someone had to pay.
In her quest to know the truth, the SEAL had uncovered a deadly secret that had shocked her to the bone. A very high-ranking military person... a three-star general, was the brain behind the underground, black market gun sale. In fact, those guns were stolen from the state and sold illegally.
Immediately she'd uncovered that deadly information, Brianna knew she had to act fast and alone. It was important that she acted alone because apart from the fact that she didn't know who to trust, people that she loved and respected could lose their lives if she involved them. One thing was very clear to Brianna, however. If she wanted to stay alive, she couldn't include that information in her report because she'd be dead immediately she filed that report. She knew that the only way to expose such a high-ranking official would be to get some proof. Till she got proof that could put the corrupt general away, that illegal operation would continue to grow from strength to strength.
She also knew that immediately she began to dig for proof, she was a dead woman... unless of course she was able to outsmart and outplay the enemy. In spite of the danger she knew she'd be in if she went ahead with her plan to expose the general and his syndicate, Brianna was determined to do it because not only did she detest corrupt officials, she also owed it to her dead colleagues.
Brianna had been relentless in her search for proof that could put the general and whoever he was working with away. After working assiduously for weeks, her diligence had paid off. She finally knew exactly where to find that proof... a shed on a large estate which belonged to General Christopher Grupert. To say Brianna was surprised she'd been able to get that far without getting killed would be an understatement. The person she was seeking to expose was a three-star general for fuck's sake. The danger she was in could therefore not be overemphasized. But then, Brianna was used to the suicidal nature of her job. After all, she was an Arrowhead.
She'd gotten onto the General's compound with cheeky ease. Everything had been going on smoothly till she'd gotten a distress call from one of the General's accomplices, whom she'd blackmailed into pointing her in the right direction. General Grupert was onto her. Even as the man spoke, Brianna had heard a gunshot... then silence. But she could have bet her last cent that the bad guys didn't know who she was. They only knew that someone was on their tail. She'd been very careful... at least she thought she'd been. Busted or not, however, Brianna had been determined to finish what she'd started. She'd quickly broken into the shed and grabbed all the documents she needed to prove her case. By the time she heard the first gunshot, the evidence was strapped securely to her back. And that familiar excitement that never ceased to pulse through her veins whenever an opportunity to dispose of an enemy presented itself was coursing through her in spades.
Brianna wasted no time incapacitating the first sixteen armed men who came close to the shed. She didn't have to be a genius to know that they were all military guys. They looked experienced and angry enough. What they obviously didn't know was that an Arrowhead on a mission was a beast. The general's men didn't stand a chance. Each man received a nice gun wound on the hand wielding their gun. If any of the groaning men was strong enough to grab his gun with the other hand, that hand got shot as well. Much as Brianna knew that most of those guys were in on the general's shady deals, she also considered the possibility that some of them might only be following orders. She, therefore, made it a point not to shoot to kill. The wounds would also make it very easy to identify all those military guys who were trying to kill her. After all, no one could possibly hide a gunshot wound to the hand.
"You better surrender, whoever you are," Brianna heard someone bellow in a threatening voice. "We just want to talk. Hey, it's obvious you are a skilled marksman. What are you? A marine? SEAL? A mercenary? Vigilante? Come on, let's talk." The voice had become coaxing. Brianna had to stop herself from bursting into laughter. "We think there's been a misunderstanding. We won't harm you. We just want to talk."
Yeah, right, Brianna thought with amusement as she watched a new set of armed guys converging on where she was crouching. The new set was not only armed with very sophisticated guns but was also in full body armor. She let go of the rifle so that it hung at her side, and then drew out two FN Five-seven pistols which were famed for their ability to penetrate many types of body armor and could fire a hundred rounds per minute. It was supposed to be so powerful, in fact, that it was usually available to only military guys who handled special assignments. Well... if an Arrowhead's assignment wasn't special, then what other assignment was?
"Come to mama, bitches," Brianna muttered as she stood up and began to pick off the men, one after the other.
Their protective gear definitely didn't shield them from Brianna's quick-action pistols. Even as she fired, she inched towards the edge of the property. She knew she had to act smart or get killed. Well, Lt. Brianna Jackson didn't plan on getting killed. Definitely not before she exposed the evil within the military that was bound to grow like a cancer if it wasn't weeded out. Fucking up was definitely not an option.
Dr. Julian Broody tapped his fingers against the steering wheel of his stylish, sleek, grey, super luxurious Mercedes S63 AMG Convertible, to the sound of Fuse ODG and Sean Paul's "Dangerous Love." He looked very relaxed behind the wheel, obviously enjoying the beautiful sunny weather. It would have been more his style if that sexy, powerful convertible were to be roaring down the road. But from the slow drive and his relaxed posture, Julian was obviously not in a hurry.
After that good food and that hot threesome with the sexiest sisters he'd ever had the thrill of fucking at the same time, he was feeling no pain. That wasn't the first time he'd been to the house of the De Luca sisters to have a hot afternoon romp. Those two were insatiable. Julian grinned as he recalled the sisters' words as he was leaving their house that afternoon. They claimed they loved worshipping his hot body and getting their worlds rocked by his amazing cock. Well, he adored them and loved the fun they always had, but they drained the hell out of him each time. Damn! Although he wasn't in a hurry, he couldn't wait to drop into his bed and have a good sleep.
Julian heard the gunshots before he saw the armed men. "The fuck..." He turned off the music and began to slow down since the action was ahead of him. Julian's mouth fell open in shock as he wondered what was going on.
He watched as about seven gun-wielding men in military clothing walked out of a large house onto the street. They looked so fierce Julian unconsciously hit his brakes. What surprised him was the fact that some of the soldiers wore protective gear. It was a Saturday afternoon. What was with the full armor, he wondered. Maybe it was a military drill of sorts, Julian thought.
But what happened next quickly shot down that thought. One moment the soldiers were shooting in one direction, in the next moment, all of them were clutching their bloody hands and screaming murder. They'd been shot by someone. But who? Julian couldn't see anyone. With heart pounding in terror, he quickly parked beneath the closest tree and sunk low into his seat so that he wouldn't be seen by anyone. Whoever it was the soldiers were hunting was obviously not only highly trained and dangerous but also had a sense of humor, Julian couldn't help but think. But for the fact that he was scared shitless at the sight of all those hunky military men screaming their arses off in pain, he would have laughed his head off.
Julian peeked outside, trying to see the criminal who was handing the soldiers their arses. He saw more soldiers emerge from the high gate of the huge house and heaved a sigh of relief. He hoped they got the bastard before he ran his way. He definitely wouldn't know how to defend himself against a gun-wielding psycho.
Although Julian was one of seven children of his parents... all boys, he hated anything that had to do with violence. One would expect someone who grew up amongst boys to be used to some violence, but that wasn't the case with Julian. He knew how to defend himself when it became very necessary, thanks to the martial arts classes his father had insisted they all take. But that was about it. Julian didn't think his skills, which he was sure he'd forgotten anyway, could compete with gunshots.
He heard more shots and screams just as a figure clad in black jeans, a black t-shirt that stuck to her body like a second skin, a black cap, and black gun holsters on her hips, shoulders, and thighs, started running towards where he was parked. Even from a distance, the feminine curve of her waist and the swell of her chest against the tight fabric were unmistakable.
"Oh no, no, no," Julian groaned as he peeked at the G.I. Jane figure heading his way. "Not like this..." He muttered, knowing his end was near. He contemplated calling his mum to say farewell. Then he decided to spare the poor woman and call his twin brother Dean instead. After all, he was going to miss Dean the most... that is if there was anything such as missing in the life beyond.
But Julian couldn't even bring himself to reach for his cell phone. So he closed his eyes and began to pray like he'd never prayed before. He prayed hard to be spared such an anticlimactic death. He was having so much fun in the world to leave it that soon.
Suddenly, his car door was yanked open. Julian's heart nearly stopped as he stared into the most piercing pair of eyes he had ever seen. They belonged to the woman in black. She looked lethal, sweat beading on her forehead, her breathing heavy.
"Drive!" She yelled.
Who the fuck was this Julian thought to himself.
"And risk getting shot at?" Julian gasped. "Are you nuts?"
"I will distract them to enable you..."
"How about hopping in so we both get out of here?"
Julian shot back. He knew he would be better off having someone who could shoot inside his car at that particular moment.
"I already have my own exit, asshole." Brianna looked exasperated. "Go now before I do otherwise you will become a target. And trust me, they will kill you."
"I can't see any cars around." Julian turned his head to quickly scan the area. "Where exactly is that exit?"
"Fuck me!" Brianna rasped, wishing she could deck her colleague's annoying friend. "Cool droptop." She murmured, giving Julian's convertible a fleeting, uninterested look. "Too bad it's going to be riddled with bullets anytime soon. Will you just do as I say, you idiot."
She growled, growing exasperated by the second.
But for the fact that her friend and fellow Arrowhead, Ty, who also happened to be her supervisor, would tear her a new one if Dean lost his life, Brianna would have left the fool to his own devices. She looked up and saw about twelve armed men turn in their direction. "I won't say this again, Dean. Get the fuck out of here before they notice you and start shooting."
"Look at the number coming," Julian retorted, sinking even lower into his seat. "Surely you can't escape..."
"I've been escaping just fine so far," Brianna growled as she reached into the convertible and turned on the engine. "Now go."
"Just…"
"Fuck!" Brianna suddenly gasped in pain. "I'm hit, you asshat." She groaned, feeling a sharp pain in her thigh, dangerously close to her groin area. "Oh god, I swear if I lose a leg I'm going to kill you myself, you idiot." Even as the pain stole her breath, Brianna leaned against the side of the car and shot at the men running towards them. She began to pant harshly as the pain intensified. "No, no..." She protested weakly when she saw Julian getting out of the car. "Just go."
But Julian ignored Brianna's protests and rather pushed her with all his might into the backseat of the car. Then he jumped back into his seat, floored the accelerator, and tore out of there even as the hood of the car rose to cover its occupants. Julian heard and felt about two bullets hitting his car but he wasn't bothered at all. His main goal was to get Brianna to a hospital.
Dr. Julian Broody drove like a maniac. The need to get Brianna medical help overrode any sense of fear he felt. In his head, he dared the shooters to chase him. He didn't think any vehicle they had at that moment could outride his car which was said to be the world's fastest four-seat convertible. The assholes were welcome to try. It was time to get his money's worth, he thought, even as he quickly unbuttoned his shirt, ready to use it as a tourniquet if necessary.