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Holiday Defenders (Love Inspired Suspense)

By Debby Giusti, Susan Sleeman, Jodie Bailey

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Chapter One

Captain Travis Chapman readily served wherever his country needed him. All Green Berets did.

But this?

“I realize this operation is a bit unusual.” Colonel David Waters grabbed a marker and approached the whiteboard in the small Fort Bragg briefing room.

Unusual? Try earthshaking.

Travis tugged at his collar and swallowed down the unease threatening to bring up his breakfast. He had to find a way out of this assignment. For once, he didn’t care what the team needed. This was personal. He’d do anything else. Go anywhere other than the Army Research Institute in Orlando.

Getting quickly and quietly behind enemy lines and creating insurgencies. That he knew and thrived on—it was how he lived and operated day to day. But working with Claire at the institute? With the woman who’d left him feeling as if a grenade had exploded in his chest, his heart still a torn mess two years later?

Not that.

He shifted in his chair and watched Waters ink Combat Action and Tactics Simulator on the board in bold red strokes. He turned, his dark brows thick as caterpillars drawn together, his perpetual scowl fixed on his broad face. “As I mentioned, your familiarity with CATS makes you the ideal candidate for this Op.”

CATS. Claire’s pet project to develop a lower-cost alternative to the army’s current simulated training program. Travis had spent weeks by her side, working out kinks. Discussing enhancements for the prototype. Getting to know her and…

Not going there again.

“Is there a problem with this assignment, Captain?” Waters’s penetrating gaze raked over Travis.

Travis sat up straighter and dug his nails into his palms, the pain biting into his skin and keeping him on task. “No, sir, but with all due respect, are you sure this Op is appropriate for our team?”

The crease between Waters’s brows deepened and his eyes remained riveted on Travis. “Didn’t mention the team. Just you and your qualifications. You know the facility and CATS.”

And Claire.

Even now, with Waters watching him intently, Travis could get lost in thoughts of her. The smell of her perfume with a hint of lavender in direct contrast to her down-to-earth personality almost lingered in the air. He could see her sparkling eyes behind designer glasses and wondered for the thousandth time what would’ve happened if she hadn’t rejected him.

Waters shifted on the balls of his feet, his impatience written on his face. “Is there something you need to tell me, Captain?”

I once believed in a forever kind of love and, thanks to Claire, now I don’t. Yeah right. Like he’d tell Waters that.

“No sir. I just need the Op details so I can catch my flight.” He opened the briefing folder. “So are they looking for me to participate in the final testing and give the simulator a Green Beret seal of approval?”

“Negative. It’s more involved than that. One of the prototypes and the equipment specs were stolen from the institute last night. Primary investigations by project director Claire Reed points to an inside job, though I must say she’s having a hard time believing anyone on her team could do this.”

At Waters’s first mention of Claire’s name, Travis’s brain snapped to full attention. “Why an inside job?”

Waters raised his index finger. “First, few people outside the staff would know the value of Reed’s breakthrough. She’s taken a technology that has cost us billions of dollars and made it affordable, which means if it was available on the black market, even small guerilla groups would have the money to turn our own training against us.”

Travis shuddered at the thought of the many insurgent groups he’d trained over the years as he imagined similar groups whose values opposed America’s using the U.S. Army’s exacting standards to train an unlimited number of soldiers.

“Exactly,” Waters said, clearly picking up on Travis’s thoughts. He rested on the edge of the table and lifted another finger. “Second, the only sign of the theft—other than the missing equipment—was a problem with the internal cameras. They were either disabled or malfunctioned last night around 2300 hours for about an hour, but the institute’s external security wasn’t breached.”

Sounded like an inside job to Travis, too, but it didn’t explain why his skills were needed. His deployments usually took him to sub-Saharan Africa in covert operations not hunting down a thief in the United States. “Won’t local investigators handle this breach?”

“No, this requires covert skills to keep the investigation under wraps. Plus, in addition to locating the thief, you’ll provide protection for Reed.”

“Claire needs protection?” The words shot out of Travis’s mouth before he could filter them.

Waters eyed him for a long moment before replying. “Yes. We believe she’s at risk for abduction and we need to put our strongest man in place to keep her out of the enemy’s hands.”

Questions swirled in Travis’s brain, mixing with concern for Claire. “I don’t understand. If the thief got what he was after, why would she be in danger?”

Waters’s jaw firmed and his eyes narrowed. Travis knew his commanding officer well enough to know he wasn’t going to like the next words out of the colonel’s mouth. Travis braced himself for additional bad news.

“Because of the simulator’s value, the project team opted to keep certain details out of the written specifications,” Waters said, pausing to flex the muscles in his jaw. “That way, if the technology ever fell into the wrong hands, the prototype would be useless without this additional information. Of course, the data is on file at a secured location, but other than that, Reed is the only person who possesses the information. Security makes stealing the written documentation impossible so—”

“The only way the thief can deploy the prototype is by obtaining the specs from Claire,” Travis finished as a sense of foreboding settled over him. “Which means if this really is an inside job then the thief knows she alone holds the key and will likely force her to share it.”

“Hence her need for protection.”

Travis knew all about obtaining information from noncompliant subjects, and he couldn’t abide the thought of Claire in this situation.

And maybe being killed once she provided the information.

The room closed in on him. Feeling as if he was strangling, he dug at the knot on his tie. He wanted to help Claire, really he did, but could he let go of his personal feelings long enough to achieve this goal on his own? “Seems to me deploying the entire company would be more effective than sending one guy.”

Waters shook his head hard, the steely resolve he was known for darkening his eyes. “A team of twelve would alert the institute staff to the problem. No one knows about the theft but Reed and her superiors at the institute. We want to keep it that way so we don’t send the thief into hiding or force him to act immediately on abducting Reed. You’ll go in under the guise of testing the latest equipment so you can stay close to Reed and quietly investigate the theft.”

Stay close to Reed. Close to Claire. A distraction that could threaten his performance.

“You can handle this alone, Chapman.” Waters crossed his arms and leaned back, his shoulders remaining in a hard line proving he didn’t intend to back down. “You’ve gathered intelligence on enemies before and have plenty of experience in capturing high-value targets. Simply consider this thief high-value and you’ll succeed. After your initial assessment of the situation, I’ll entertain requests for deploying additional support as long as you keep in mind that this operation remains on the Q.T. until I say otherwise.”

Fine. Travis got it. A covert mission it would be. Him and Claire alone. The last thing he wanted, but he’d do it. And do it well. “You can count on me, sir.”

“We always do,” Waters said then dismissed Travis.

In the hallway, Travis glanced at his watch. He had just enough time to check a handgun out of the armory then take a quick flight from North Carolina to Orlando. He’d be at Claire’s side in time for lunch. That gave him a mere three hours to work through residual issues with Claire and get his head in the game. Failure to do so could put her right in the enemy’s hands and cost Claire her life.

*****

Claire Reed’s dream had been stolen. Right here, in the dark of night in her home away from home. She glanced at the sign on the tall building. Bold black letters mounted on stucco painted a cheery yellow read, Army Research Institute.

Her sanctuary. Until this morning when she’d discovered the theft.

She settled her foot on a concrete planter filled with poinsettias and gently stretched the tight muscles in her leg. Christmas music pelted from the outdoor speaker belying the seventy-degree temperatures.

“`Tis the season to be jolly, fa la la la la, la la la la.”

Jolly, hah!

Nothing about her day had been jolly.

She switched legs and put her weight into the stretch until stiff muscles eased and she was ready to run. Hoping her usual lunchtime jog would put her in a better frame of mind to lead her team, she pounded down the sidewalk. Her bad mood blotted out Orlando’s ever-present sunshine and the four-foot-tall sandhill cranes strutting across the road. She usually enjoyed the birds’ antics on her daily run through the Central Florida Research Park, but today she only cared about eliminating her frustration with the army’s response to last night’s theft.

“Sit tight,” they’d said. “Don’t tell anyone about it, and we’ll get someone in place to help as soon as possible.”

Sit tight, my eye. Not when someone had stolen one of her prototypes and the specs for the device, putting six years of work in jeopardy.

She groaned at the typical military response. Usually she was grateful to have such a prestigious job at thirty-one, and she loved working with this dedicated group of men and women. But today reminded her of the hassles of working for the military, such as the way the brass rarely told her what she needed to know until they believed she needed to know it. Aggravating to say the least.

Hoping to exhaust herself, she picked up her pace beyond her normal routine and plunged into a secluded parking area with taller trees blocking the sun.

Good. The darkness matched her mood and her disappointment.

How many man-hours had she put into the helmet-mounted display and software to provide a fully immersive virtual training system? A system that simulated a variety of environments a foot soldier might face. Mountains, trees, deserts. All with the hope of saving lives with realistic training that was now endangered if the army didn’t act fast and recover the prototype.

Her project killed before it even had a chance to live.

Angry, she rounded a corner and pushed herself until she neared the end of the loop and her lungs screamed for oxygen. She’d soon be back at the institute and her thoughts were still a jumbled mess. She couldn’t face her staff this unsettled or they’d ask questions so she ran in place to finish working through her turmoil.

As she stared over a small pond, a hand came out of nowhere and clamped over her mouth. An arm snaked around her chest, pulling her back against a rock-solid wall of muscle. Winded, she barely had the strength to breathe let alone fight, but instincts kicked in and she jabbed an elbow to the man’s gut.

No response. Nothing. He didn’t even grunt.

She stomped on his foot and elbowed him again.

He tightened his grip, clamping her arm against her body and dragging her backward. She dug her heels in the thick St. Augustine grass trying to gain purchase and slow their progress.

No change.

Her heart thumped an irregular beat as panic skittered up her spine.

The man picked up his pace, moving quickly down the slope toward the pond.

Alligators. No, no, no! Not this, her mind screamed as he drew her closer to the water. Step after step, the sour, organic smell alerted her to the pond’s nearness.

Fear twisted in her stomach.

How could she have let this happen?

She’d screwed up. Let her thoughts of the theft distract her and she’d failed to follow basic Self-defense 101. Prevention.

After her former boyfriend Travis had learned she jogged alone, he’d taught her skills to stay safe. To know the area. Know her exact location and listen for anyone approaching. Know her escape routes. But she’d failed.

Travis. What would he tell her to do?

Her captor skirted around the pond sending a moment of relief surging through her before panic claimed her mind again, tangling her thoughts into a twisted mound of spaghetti.

Do something. Think, Claire, think!

Drop your weight, Travis had said. Bring the creep down so you can elbow his head.

She fell forward and jutted both elbows upward. He was strong, crazy strong, and he jerked her upright then continued moving. She dug in her heels again, tried to slow him down, but her efforts didn’t faze him.

They neared a deserted parking lot where she caught sight of a white cargo van. The side door sat open like a waiting prison cell.

No. Oh no.

If he wrestled her into the van, she might never come out. But how did she stop him?

Travis had shared a last-ditch tactic with her. It’d be painful and might knock her out, but she had nothing to lose.

Nothing.

She flopped as far forward as possible and with her remaining strength threw herself back, ramming her head into his face. Her skull connected with his jaw and her glasses flew from her face. Pain sliced up the back of her head.

He grunted, but kept moving.

No.

She slammed him again. Saw stars. Felt black tingeing at the edges of her vision, already blurred without her glasses.

God, no. Please no. Not this. Please, she prayed. Give me strength.

One more try. One more. She had to succeed in freeing herself.

She dipped forward and roared back. Her head connected as she stomped his foot and elbowed him at the same time. The perfect trifecta, making his arm slacken. With a burst of adrenaline, she spun free and bolted toward the road.

Without her glasses, the trees ahead swam before her eyes, but she dug deep and raced on. She couldn’t hear his footfalls behind her, but she sensed him chasing her. He was big with powerful, long legs and was likely gaining on her. She resisted the urge to look back.

Pain razored up her legs as her lungs screamed for air. She felt like crumpling onto the thickly matted grass, but somehow she kept going.

Down an incline. Up the other side. Along a pond. Her foot sinking into wet muck. Falling.

His hand clamping her ankle like a vise.

She screamed and jerked free as she grabbed the thick grass to gain her footing. She righted herself and kicked out with every ounce of energy, connecting with his shoulder and leaving him prone. She charged up the incline.

“Help,” she screamed, then decided to save her breath for running.

She ran harder.

Closer and closer to the road. Closer to help. To the faint hint of traffic sounding in the distance.

You can make it. You can make it, her mind chanted with every step until she believed it.

She ran every day. She was fast. She could outrun him and flag down help before he caught her. She really could.

She had to. She was racing for her life.

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