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Swat Standoff
Lena Diaz
They’re racing to the rescue… And a possible chance at love!When a SWAT team is kidnapped by an unknown assailant, Blake Sullivan and Donna Waters must race to the rescue. This dynamic duo need to put their differences aside to save the day and discover a hot, life-changing connection!
A SWAT team vanishes.
Can two partners put aside their differences to save them?
Playing hero backfires on sexy SWAT team member Blake Sullivan. He infuriates his partner, Donna Waters, as much as he attracts her. But before they can resolve their differences, they discover that the rest of their team have been kidnapped by an unknown assailant. Now as they race to rescue the small Tennessee town’s real heroes, they share a growing mutual trust...and a hot, life-changing connection.
Tennessee SWAT
LENA DIAZ was born in Kentucky and has also lived in California, Louisiana and Florida, where she now resides with her husband and two children. Before becoming a romantic suspense author, she was a computer programmer. A Romance Writers of America Golden Heart® Award finalist, she has also won the prestigious Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence in Mystery/Suspense. To get the latest news about Lena, please visit her website, www.lenadiaz.com (http://www.lenadiaz.com).
Also by Lena Diaz (#u4616cb0c-7ce0-5f3c-83fe-5b659724d9ea)
Mountain Witness
Secret Stalker
Stranded with the Detective
Missing in the Glades
Arresting Developments
Deep Cover Detective
Hostage Negotiation
The Marshal’s Witness
Explosive Attraction
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
SWAT Standoff
Lena Diaz
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-07904-4
SWAT STANDOFF
© 2018 Lena Diaz
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
This story is dedicated to the Tennessee Takedown readers who demanded that I make it a series. I’ve absolutely loved writing these stories about the Destiny, Tennessee, SWAT team. I hope readers love SWAT Standoff, the exciting conclusion to this thrilling ride.
Contents
Cover (#u7bb57808-2724-5c3d-ac2f-e04c7cd556c6)
Back Cover Text (#u01b8d735-a977-55f7-9200-fc0462261ba2)
About the Author (#u7e6ebb2d-f7f4-551a-929f-59a350a8078f)
Booklist (#u97361c77-c5e6-54a4-a944-f29012da71e5)
Title Page (#u650e7252-ce18-5cd0-92c4-9a24507d3e18)
Copyright (#uf2768cbe-236e-5460-9621-4791e639bdab)
Dedication (#u53544ef7-92ef-5c79-b36b-81c44e425acb)
Chapter One (#ua7669bf2-884e-5704-8247-b2c624d72d12)
Chapter Two (#uf5316489-1183-53fb-9380-d314e44bb8d3)
Chapter Three (#u4a9eccce-aba2-5197-bba5-0a4513a3acb3)
Chapter Four (#u7166aaed-6f2d-5a7b-bba6-c87b9695c259)
Chapter Five (#u301e155d-10f3-5aea-8d90-e3a601d08bfc)
Chapter Six (#u31434298-19d7-538c-b302-f7f65434af0d)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u4616cb0c-7ce0-5f3c-83fe-5b659724d9ea)
SWAT Officer Blake Sullivan crouched behind some honeysuckle-vine-covered logs and peered at the weathered gray barn through his rifle scope. His target was little more than a shadow in the second-story window that had probably lost its glass long before Blake was born. How the suspect had managed to get up that high without crashing through the rotten stairs or floorboards was a mystery. The dilapidated building should have collapsed long ago in the violent winds that sometimes blew down from the nearby Smoky Mountains. Blake imagined the only reason that it hadn’t fallen down yet was that it was sheltered from the elements by a thick stand of Tennessee sugar maples and white flowering dogwoods.
With the early morning sun slanting through the trees behind him, and a lull in the light spring breeze that had been blowing moments before, conditions were perfect to take the shot. He eased his finger from the cold frame of his rifle to the smooth, welcoming cradle of the trigger.
Two chirps followed by a high-pitched whistle sounded off to his left. It sounded just like a bobwhite bird, common here at Hawkins Ridge and Tennessee in general. But Blake knew better. That was the SWAT team leader, Dillon Gray, signaling him. But if Blake looked away, he might lose the perpetrator. Dillon would have to wait.
Ignoring a second, more insistent whistle, he edged the barrel of the rifle down a fraction, exhaled slowly and squeezed.
Pop.
Red bloomed across the suspect’s chest. He cartwheeled backward, disappearing from sight.
Blake grinned. One down; one to go. Now he could see what Dillon wanted.
He looked over his left shoulder. The team leader stood a good twenty yards away, talking to Donna Waters, the only female member of their team. Dressed in green camouflage, they both would’ve completely blended into their surroundings if it wasn’t for the white S-W-A-T letters across Dillon’s back. Neither of them seemed to notice Blake. Whatever Dillon had wanted earlier must not have been that important.
Blake turned his attention back to the barn. Had the suspects split up? Initially, they’d worked as a team, staying close together. If they stuck to that plan, the second one had to be somewhere close by.
Nearly a full minute later, his patience was rewarded. A dark shadow moved near some trees to the right of the building. The man furtively looked around as if to see whether anyone had spotted him. Destiny, Tennessee’s entire seven-member SWAT team, plus their chief, was out here somewhere. Correction, six-member team, now that Colby had taken a new job a couple hours’ drive from Blount County.
Blake glanced back to signal Dillon and Donna. But, either they were blending in with the trees so well that he couldn’t see them now, or they were gone. He considered radioing the team to let them know he’d gotten one of the suspects and had eyes on the second. But he worried there might be static or that the sound of his voice would spook his prey.
He scanned the front of the barn again. The suspect took off, sprinting across the clearing toward the woods. Blake jerked up his rifle. The man looked right at him, his eyes wide with panic. He lunged for the cover of some pine trees.
Pop, pop.
Missed. The man disappeared into the dark gloom of tree cover.
Blake cursed and straightened, knees popping from crouching so long, and took off in pursuit. When he reached where the man had entered the woods, he shook his head. The guy was about five foot five and probably weighed a buck thirty, if that. He should have been light on his feet, easily weaving his way through the thin early-spring vegetation without leaving much of a trace. Instead, he’d plowed through like a linebacker, heedless of breaking small branches and leaving clear footprints in the dew-laden grass. He might as well have put out a sign saying Bad Guy Went This Way. Either the guy was an idiot, or he was extremely clever, trying to lead Blake into an ambush.
Another birdcall chirped behind him, this one the not-so-convincing squawk of a blue jay. There was no mistaking SWAT team member Randy Carter’s signal. Blake rolled his eyes. He doubted even a novice in the woods would think that was a real bird. He paused and glanced over his shoulder. Sure enough, Randy stood in the same copse that Blake had left just moments ago. Randy motioned for him to come back and made another motion toward his left.
Blake shook his head, held up one finger and pointed down the path where the suspect had disappeared.
Randy insistently pointed to his left again.
Blake tightened his hand on his rifle in frustration. If Randy couldn’t understand a simple signal, then that was his problem. Blake refused to put the team in danger by breaking off pursuit. The suspect could circle back around and sneak up on one of them, or he could escape altogether. Ignoring Randy, Blake headed into the woods.
Ten minutes later, he found the suspect. The man was holding his rifle above his head to keep it dry as he waded across a waist-deep stream.
Blake brought his rifle up and stepped from the cover of trees. “Police. Freeze.”
The suspect whipped around.
Blake squeezed the trigger. Pop.
The suspect let out a blistering curse. A dark red stain covered his right shoulder. Blake took another shot, giving the man a matching stain on the left.
“I give up! Stop shooting!” The man held his gun over his head and glared at Blake.
Blake kept his rifle trained on him. “Work your way back to this side of the river. If you make any sudden movements, I’ll pop you again.”
The man’s eyes narrowed with the promise of retribution, but he started forward as ordered.
After taking the man’s gun, Blake pulled a set of handcuffs from the holder on the back of his belt.
The man’s brows shot up. “Really? You’re going to cuff me?”
“It’s all part of the game, my friend. Turn around.”
“You don’t play fair. That second shot was completely unnecessary.”
“I play to win. That’s all that matters.” He clicked the cuffs into place, slung the straps of both rifles over his shoulder and marched the man back toward the barn. Now that it was safe to break radio silence, he pulled the two-way off his belt and opened a channel.
“Blake to base. SWAT two, suspects zero. I got both of them. The first one in the barn, the second at the river. I’m on my way back with the second one.”
His prisoner glanced over his shoulder, aiming a frown his way.
“Keep moving.”
The man gave him a look that should have made him burst into flames.
The radio remained quiet as they strode toward the barn. No one answered Blake’s call. He pressed the button again.
“Blake to base. Copy?”
