A Covert Affair (Deadly Ops #5)
Katie Reus
About the Book
National Security Agent Nathan Ortiz is back in the game. After being wounded in action he’s ready for anything. But he’s shocked when his new mission to find missing women in Miami leads him to the very one he’s never forgotten.
Successful restaurateur Amelia Rios does everything she can to support struggling women in her community. When one of her waitresses stops showing up for work, Amelia is thrown into a dark, shadowy world.
Working with Nathan, the only man she’s ever loved, old feelings surface as they fight a ruthless enemy preying on the poor and weak. The heat simmering between them could mean a second chance at love – but first they must survive.
More mind-blowing action is waiting for you. Don’t miss Katie Reus’s other Deadly Ops novels: Targeted, Bound To Danger, Chasing Danger, Shattered Duty, and Edge Of Danger.
Dedicated to my loving mom.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
As always, I owe a big thanks to my editor, Danielle Perez, for all her wonderful insight into this book. To the team at New American Library—Christina Brower, Jessica Brock, Ashley Polikoff—thank you for all the behind-the-scenes work that you do; it’s very appreciated. To my agent, Jill Marsal, thank you for your continuing guidance. For Kari Walker, I’m so incredibly grateful that you read the early draft of A Covert Affair (and all my early drafts!). You make reaching the finish line of a book a whole lot easier. To my patient family, I owe gratitude to my husband and son for living with me when I’m on a deadline. You guys are my rocks. For Sarah, thank you for all the behind-the-scenes stuff you do that gives me more time to write. “Thank you” doesn’t seem like enough. And I definitely owe thanks to my Deadly Ops readers. Thank you, guys, for reading this series and for reaching out to let me know how much you’re enjoying it. I hope you love this latest book. Last, but never least, I’m thankful to God for so many opportunities and blessings.
Prologue
Collateral damage: damage, injuries, or deaths that are incidental to an intended target(s). Unintended civilian casualties or destruction of civilian property.
“Evacuate now!” Karen shouted through their comm line.
Nathan immediately pushed himself up from one of the pillars of the Metro Station, his gaze locking with Freeman’s, twenty feet away. This was fucking bad. They were undercover, but the urgency in Karen’s voice told him that didn’t matter now.
Freeman was closer to the exit. Nathan could see him pausing, as if he was going to wait for him. “Go!” he shouted at his teammate, already sprinting after him.
Selene was shouting over the comm too, telling them to get the hell out. He’d never heard her sound panicked before.
Adrenaline shot through him like a cannon blast as he ran, his legs eating up the distance between the subway tracks and the nearest set of stairs. He ignored the strange looks he got from people. If Karen or Selene told him to start tap-dancing in the middle of an op, he’d do it. Not because he was a mindless puppet who followed orders, but because he trusted them with his life. He couldn’t say that about many people. And if they were telling him to get the hell out, then he was outta here.
That was when he heard it. A familiar whistle and then a whoosh of air. The unmistakable sound of a rocket.
Shit, shit, shit.
They were screwed. Without thinking, he tackled the woman nearest to him. Hell, if he could save one random person, he’d do it. Before she could utter a scream, an explosion rent the air, the roar deafening as a brief blast of heat licked through the station. Keeping her body beneath his, he covered his head with his arm as debris rained down around them.
Something hard slammed into his left leg. He groaned at the shock of pain as the bone snapped. Before it fully registered, something else fell onto his arm, skimming his head. Not as heavy, but his vision blurred for a moment. The edges of his sight went black and he fought to remain conscious as the woman cried beneath him. She wasn’t struggling but was huddled up trying to get even closer to him. He succumbed to the darkness dragging him under.
Nathan’s eyes snapped open to the sound of groans and crying nearby. Shit, he must have lost consciousness for a couple of seconds. The woman was still beneath him, her body shaking. That was good—she was awake. “You okay?” he rasped out. There was a dull ringing in his ears, his head pounding.
“Think . . . so.” Her teeth chattered.
“I’m rolling off you.” When he did, he winced as a jagged pain tore through his leg. He glanced down his body and grimaced at the odd angle his lower leg stuck out at. Definitely broken. It would be easy to give in to the pain and lie back, but he could actually hear his former gunnery sergeant telling him to “rub some fucking dirt on it, Marine!” Code for get over it and man up.
He quickly did a scan of the rest of his body. His head hurt, but his other leg seemed fine and he could move his arms and torso well enough as he pushed himself up.
As he scanned the interior of the Metro, he withdrew his weapon instinctively. He could see a few unmoving bodies, some pinned beneath large pieces of concrete, others lying with their body parts twisted at odd angles. Not good.
The woman, still huddled in a ball on the dusty floor, gasped at the sight of his SIG. “What is that?”