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Tactical Force
Elle James
Their search for an assassin makes her the next target. With a threat on the US President’s life it’s all-out war for former marine Jack Snow. But when he is tasked with protecting DC staff Anne Bellamy, his mission takes him undercover into Washington’s power circles. Can he protect his country and the woman who's become far more than just an asset to him?
Their search for an assassin makes her the next target.
Two attacks on DC staffer Anne Bellamy’s life are just the beginning of a terrorist threat from a group that aims to assassinate the US president. It’s all-out war for former elite Force Recon marine Jack Snow, who is tasked with keeping Anne alive. As his mission takes him undercover into Washington’s power circles, can he protect his country and the woman who’s become way more than just an asset to him?
ELLE JAMES, a New York Times bestselling author, started writing when her sister challenged her to write a romance novel. She has managed a full-time job and raised three wonderful children, and she and her husband even tried ranching exotic birds (ostriches, emus and rheas). Ask her, and she’ll tell you what it’s like to go toe-to-toe with an angry 350-pound bird! Elle loves to hear from fans at ellejames@earthlink.net or ellejames.com (http://ellejames.com)
Also by Elle James (#udbf45780-e7e6-57be-8b3c-afe1e4eaa2b7)
Marine Force Recon
Show of Force
Full Force
Driving Force
One Intrepid SEAL
Two Dauntless Hearts
Three Courageous Words
Four Relentless Days
Five Ways to Surrender
Six Minutes to Midnight
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Tactical Force
Elle James
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-0-008-90480-7
TACTICAL FORCE
© 2019 Mary Jernigan
Published in Great Britain 2019
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)
Note to Readers (#udbf45780-e7e6-57be-8b3c-afe1e4eaa2b7)
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Text to speech
I want to thank Delilah Devlin and my daughter,
Paige Yancey, for being there when I need some
serious help brainstorming.
And thank you to Denise Zaza, who has been with me
from the day she bought my first book for
Harlequin Intrigue.
A big thank-you to my readers, who continue to buy my
books. You make it possible for me to follow my dream
of being a full-time author. Thank you!
Contents
Cover (#u4a65ae78-f2fd-55ee-8aa0-06fddfbcfdb8)
Back Cover Text (#ud95b4440-fe42-52fc-b2fa-35a1b84952fc)
About the Author (#u3a58468f-587b-5f06-bf18-23b411291843)
Booklist (#u1cfa6f16-d8ae-5e54-99e8-544cfaa6b251)
Title Page (#u3ac4eb8f-b67c-5192-b221-66d15d7fa62f)
Copyright (#u7e2fc8e9-5ae2-541f-8da0-b561b2316295)
Note to Readers
Dedication (#uf6d6d38f-6f70-5d6e-8125-1ed908f8eb36)
Chapter One (#u22e3c5b7-822d-5df2-9558-3f04e683212f)
Chapter Two (#uf9dc08be-50ab-567d-b2a4-a208211c49c6)
Chapter Three (#udd89fdba-65a5-5613-8de0-f80c13da5d8b)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
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)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#udbf45780-e7e6-57be-8b3c-afe1e4eaa2b7)
Anne Bellamy finished editing the document her boss had given her just before he’d left for the gym at exactly four thirty that afternoon. She’d stayed two hours past the end of the usual day in the office of the national security advisor located in the West Wing of the White House to clean up, fact-check and finish the job. The last one out of the office, she gathered her purse and checked her cell phone.
A text message had come through during the time she’d logged off her computer and collected her purse.
Unknown caller.
Curious as to who had her phone number and was texting her so late in the evening, Anne brought up her text messages and frowned down at the cryptic message.
TRINITY LIVES.
Her heart skipped several beats before settling into the swift pace of one who was running for her life. Anne hadn’t heard anything about Trinity since the man who’d recruited her to spy on government officials had been murdered.
Her gut clenched and she felt like she might throw up as she returned the text.
Sorry, you must have the wrong number.
She waited, her breath caught in her throat, her pulse hammering against her eardrums.
John Halverson died because he’d got too close.
Anne gasped and glanced around her office, wondering if anyone was watching or could see the texts she was receiving. Wondering if she was doing the right thing, or revealing herself to the wrong persons, she responded to the text again.
Halverson is dead.
Again, Anne waited, afraid of the response, but afraid not to reply.
Halverson was on the right track.
Anne’s heart squeezed hard in her chest. John Halverson had been a good man, with a heart as big as they came. He cared about his country and what was happening to tear it apart.
When he’d come to her, he’d caught her at a vulnerable point in her career. A point at which she’d considered leaving the political nightmare to take a position as a secretary or receptionist for a doctor’s office. Anything to get out of the demoralizing, disheartening work she did with men and women who didn’t always have the best interests of the nation at heart, whose careers and post-government jobs in media and lobbying meant more to them than the country’s future.
Anne had kept her head down and her thoughts to herself since Halverson’s death, afraid that whoever had murdered the man would come after her. If they knew her association with Halverson, and her involvement in uncovering the graft and corruption inside the office of the National Security Council, she’d be the next target.
She knew Trinity had a firm foothold in the government, and they weren’t afraid to pounce on those who dared to cross them or squeal on their activities. The problem was that they were so well entrenched you couldn’t tell a friend from a terrorist.
She stared at her phone screen. Was someone trying to warn her? Or flush her out into the open?
Either way, someone knew her secret. She could be the next casualty, courtesy of Trinity.
Anne quickly keyed in her message, not feeling terribly confident she was putting an end to the communication.
I don’t know what you’re talking about. Leave me alone.
A moment later came a response.
Can’t. They’re planning an attack. A lot of people could be hurt. I need your help to stop it.
Anne pressed a hand to her breast to still her pounding heart.
No. No. No.
She wasn’t the kind of person who could easily lie or pretend. Anne had always been an open book. Anyone could read any emotion on her face. She’d argued this with Halverson, but he’d insisted she could help him. She was in a strategic position, one that touched on a number of key players in politics.
If Trinity had sleeper cells in those positions, she could spot them before anyone else. Theoretically.
