Page 1 of Russian Rescue

CHAPTER ONE

Piper

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My fingers dug into the rocks, and I gripped them tight while I pulled my body up to the next handhold. Pain seared through my aching arms from the climb that suspended me three hundred feet over the terrain below, but it was a good ache—an ache that came from pushing my body to levels I’d have once thought impossible. An ache that meant I was doing something fun. Something exciting. Something... dangerous. The kind of shit I lived for.

My grip on the rock started to slip, so I swung my body across the face of the cliff, grabbing another stone and sliding my feet into the crack beneath me. I peeked down at the massive drop below, exhaling a breath at how close that had been, then furrowed my brow, irritated that I’d almost slipped.

Me? Slip? Never. I’d been scaling cliffs and walls for over a decade and prided myself on my ability to get to the top with ease. I always beat the boys up, reveling in their grumbling that a girl had beaten them and ignoring their rationalization that my lighter bodyweight allowed me to climb with such speed. No can do. I’d climbed with over a hundred pounds of gear on my back several times, and I’d still managed to get to the top before them.

My weight had nothing to do with my superior climbing. I trained twice as hard as the boys to prove that I belonged. I had to. Being the only woman who’d been recruited to be a member of the Elite Stealth Force Alpha team made me hellbent on proving my worth every damn day. So, I did. I took the training I’d learned at The Farm when I’d joined the CIA and pushed myself to be one of the most elite operatives on the planet. Just over a decade ago, I’d been snapped up to form a tactical team so secret even my employer, the CIA, didn’t know about us.

Hell, no one did.

Other than the handful of higher-ups who knew of our existence and ran our team, me and the three men on Alpha team had operated completely off the grid... the three men I’d die for, and the three men I still trusted with my life. Marcus, Knox, and Wes. My family. My ride or dies. My all for ones and one for alls. Our team of four had traipsed behind the red tape that stopped other government agencies from doing what needed to be done. We’d spent our seven-year contract hopping around the globe snuffing out threats to the US, extracting high-value targets, and putting bullets into anyone and anything that our handler set our sights on. I’d loved every single second of that amazing adventure.

And then, just like that, it was over. The big “R” happened.

Retirement.

I pulled myself up to the next rock, groaning as the word retired bounced around in my head. A jolt of sadness sliced through me as I remembered the day I’d hung up my assault rifle and knives. I hadn’t been ready... I still wasn’t ready to be done, and I’d planned on being a member of Alpha team until I got too old to seduce my way behind enemy lines and slaughter them once I got there. But after Knox had been captured, and the government had tried to write him off as a goner, my team had gathered to make a decision. Either re-up our seven-year contracts and forget the man, the brother, who’d sacrificed himself so we could survive, or walk out of a job we loved so we’d be free to go save him ourselves.

It wasn’t really a choice, though. Knox wasn’t blood, but he was family. We’d never leave him behind, so we’d all let our contracts lapse that next month and headed out alone to bring back our boy. But after we’d got him back, that was it. No more Elite Stealth Force. No more flying around the world kicking bad boys where it hurt. Just like that, the party was over.

Grunting, I hoisted myself again, careful this time to get a better grip on the ledge above me. When my fingers dug in and felt steady, I lifted my feet and dangled from the edge, using my upper body strength to pull myself up. Once I got myself over the edge, I flopped onto my back on the red dirt, puffing as I lay there alone.

A bird shrieked in the distance, and I fixated my gaze on the dark silhouette skirting across the hot desert sun. Even though I’d scaled up several hundred feet that would have terrified most seasoned climbers, I still felt bored as I lay there contemplating the next adventure. Thanks to saving up money from our contracts and from a cartel raid a few years back where we’d all slipped off with a cool five million apiece, my team and I had the means to live out the rest of our days doing whatever the hell we wanted. I should have been happy... most people would kill for millions of dollars in their mid-thirties, but I hadn’t been ready to retire.

I needed adventure. Danger. A purpose. But conquering this cliff was going to have to do for today.

After a few minutes of staring at the birds circling overhead, my phone buzzed against my thigh. I slipped it out of the holster and looked at the screen. My brow pinched together when I saw the word “unknown” on my screen. No one had this number other than Wes, Marcus, and Knox. Probably a telemarketer. Those guys could find anyone anywhere. Annoyed they’d somehow gotten ahold of my unlisted number, I pushed ignore.

“Fucking telemarketers,” I grumbled.

Before I could slip my phone back into the holster and prepare to head back down, the phone buzzed in my hand again.

Unknown.

What the actual hell? Persistent little bastards. Narrowing my eyes, I pressed accept and lifted the phone to my ear. “Listen up, you son of a bitch. You do not have permission to call this number. If you ever call me again, I’m not reporting you to some telemarketer list that will fine you. No. I will find you. I will hunt you down and—”

“Piper! It’s Wes! Can you hear me?”

A slow smile lifted my lips.

Wes.

Our computer guy on Alpha team. He was the baby of our group, joining us at only twenty years old when we’d all been in our mid to late twenties. With no tactical skills like Marcus, Knox, and me, Wes had operated solely from his home back in the States. I’d only met him in person a handful of times years ago, but he’d been an integral part of our operation. Our eyes and ears everywhere we went. He could hack security cameras, override alarm systems, steal satellites, and pretty much ensure we could do our job and make it back home unscathed.

Our own personal Overwatch.

Or at least that’s what he wanted us to call him, but we called him Pretty Boy on account of his long hair and beautiful features. He wasn’t feminine looking, but he was... well, pretty. If he filled out and cleaned up, he’d probably be downright gorgeous, but to me, he’d always be the scrawny college kid with serious heart eyes every time he looked at me.

“Pretty Boy,” I cooed, knowing it would elicit a response that would get us bantering as usual. “Good to hear from you. Your number came up as unknown, and I thought you were a telemarketer. Sorry I reamed you out. What’s up? Haven’t talked to you in a while.”

I waited for his response but heard nothing but the birds squawking overhead.

“What? Are you giving me the silent treatment for calling you Pretty Boy? I know you’ve now requested we all refer to you as ‘Incredibly Handsome Man,’ but you’ll always be Pretty Boy to me.”