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Griffin

Dale Mayer




  Griffin

  The Mavericks, Book 2

  Dale Mayer

  Books in This Series:

  Kerrick, Book 1

  Griffin, Book 2

  Jax, Book 3

  Beau, Book 4

  Asher, Book 5

  Ryker, Book 6

  Miles, Book 7

  Nico, Book 8

  Keane, Book 9

  Lennox, Book 10

  Gavin, Book 11

  Shane, Book 12

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  About This Book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  About Jax

  Author’s Note

  Complimentary Download

  About the Author

  Copyright Page

  About This Book

  What happens when the very men—trained to make the hard decisions—come up against the rules and regulations that hold them back from doing what needs to be done? They either stay and work within the constraints given to them or they walk away. Only now, for a select few, they have another option:

  The Mavericks. A covert black ops team that steps up and break all the rules … but gets the job done.

  Welcome to a new military romance series by USA Today best-selling author Dale Mayer. A series where you meet new friends in this raw and compelling look at the men who keep us safe every day from the darkness where they operate—and live—in the shadows … until someone special helps them step into the light.

  Helping Kerrick was one thing, getting tagged for a mission of his own quite another …

  His heart ached to hear a young girl had been kidnapped while at a hotel in Thailand, waiting for her father to arrive. But nothing is ever as it seems, and this case isn’t even close to simple.

  Lorelai spent the last seven years enjoying her young charge, Amelia Rose. Tutoring the daughter of a wealthy business owner added perks to the job, like holidays around the world. In all these years Lorelai had never once seen the downside to having big money–until the holiday in Thailand where Amelia Rose is targeted, and they were both kidnapped.

  Griffin managed to rescue the kidnapped victims, but tracing the kidnappers was a whole different story and brought the group a little too close to home …

  Chapter 1

  Griffin Tomas woke to an odd buzzing on his night table. He glanced at the clock—2:03 a.m.—then around at his surroundings. Still in the same hotel room stateside that he had been living out of for the last week. Like Kerrick, Griffin was at a crossroads. He needed a real home but had no idea where it should be. If he continued to work with the Mavericks, he could live any damn place. They’d fly him to his op. He had some ideas but …

  His phone’s insistent buzz brought him to full awareness. He grabbed it and frowned. “What?”

  “Your services are needed,” said the stoic voice on the other end.

  “Again? So soon?”

  “What can I say? The world’s a mess,” the voice said.

  “Not sure if I want to do any more of these specialized jobs,” he said quietly.

  “Understood, but you have a unique skill set.”

  “And what’s that?”

  The other end went quiet.

  Griffin wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Am I going in alone?”

  “You can choose one. You’ll have all the support you need in the background as usual. And, if you need more backup, you only have to ask.”

  “What about Kerrick?”

  The voice hesitated. “How about Asher or Jax?”

  “Jax? Jax Darrum?”

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t realize he was part of the team.”

  “We’re considering it.”

  Griffin laughed. “Meaning, he hasn’t said yes, and you’re hoping that, if you can get me to work a job with him, it’ll be a yes.”

  “Potentially.” That voice held a dry sense of humor. “Kerrick is around, so he’ll run communications on this one.”

  “You mean, that mysterious chat window?”

  A slightly muffled cough could have easily been a chuckle when the voice said, “And maybe a little more.”

  Griffin frowned. “What’s the job?”

  “You’re heading out in the USS Anzio.”

  “Wait,” Griffin said. “I’m not going anywhere until I hear what the job is.”

  A loud sigh traveled between the phones. “The daughter of a US newspaper mogul with a home base in London has been kidnapped in Thailand and is being held there. The father has got pull in high places and is dealing with us and MI6.”

  “And what’s stopping the military from going in and grabbing her?”

  “We only have one garbled message, saying that she’s married now and that she belongs with them.”

  “And what does she say?” he asked, frowning. “Since when did a marriage keep somebody prisoner?”

  “In many countries, it does keep them a prisoner, which is why she couldn’t get the word out to us that she’s being held.”

  “How long has she been detained?”

  “Three days.”

  At that, Griffin straightened up in bed and threw off his blanket. “Three days? And you knew about it all this time?”

  “No, we only got intel that this was a possible kidnapping at midnight. We’ve been waiting to get confirmation.”

  “Well, I have to get there fast then,” he said. “That’s not any two-hour trip.”

  “True,” the voice said. “We can fly you partway, but we don’t want you entering the country using any of the normal methods. You’re too well-known.”

  He swore. “So my face isn’t to be anywhere?”

  “No, hence the ship entering and leaving any country.”

  “Sure, but going from California to Southeast Asia? That’s hardly a twenty-four-hour event.”

  “True enough. But, as you’ll see, we have multiple methods. Be by the docks at 0600 sharp.”

  And, just like that, the voice rang off. Swearing silently, Griffin had less than four hours. He got up, quickly packed, then showered and dressed. He would need food, depending on what was going on with his transportation. He stared at the Chinese food he’d had last night and shrugged. “Cold Chinese food. Yum. I’ve had worse.” He used food as sustenance and an energy source, hence keeping a selection of protein bars in his ready bag.

  But still it wouldn’t be enough. Depending on what was happening on board ship—and whether he was there officially or secretly—he might or might not be fed. He quickly finished off the chow mein, tossed the empty containers, and exited his hotel room.

  He had called for a cab, but instead a black military-issued vehicle pulled up. He stepped into the passenger side and looked at the driver, surprised to see Jax. “Wow,” Griffin said. “They did convince you after all. That was fast.”

  Jax shot him a hard look. “A one-time deal,” he said. “And only because I know you’re the one going out on this op.”

  “Not alone if you’re coming with me,” Griffin said, returning his friend’s hard look with one of his own. He knew Jax from several overseas missions. He was a good man to have in your corner but an even better one if it entailed night work. “Apparently we’re supposed to get in and out without anyone knowing we were there.”

  Jax shrugged his shoulders. “So what else is new?”

  They parked as close to the wharf as they could. E
ach picked up their duffel bags and tossed it over one shoulder. Then the two men walked to the end of the docks. A Zodiac waited for them. The pilot caught sight of them, nodded toward the back, and said, “Let’s go. We’re late.”

  Shrugging at that, both men hopped into the Zodiac, and it took off without any fanfare. By the time they reached the docked cruiser, they were led to a separate room, a small sleeping area, by one silent seaman who promptly left them there. With shades of Kerrick’s mission in his mind, Griffin walked in the claustrophobic room, dumped his duffel bag, and planted his hands on his hips as he stared around. “Do you know anything more about this than I do?”

  “I know Jax shit,” Jax said with a grin at the play on his name.

  “Well, I don’t know anything either,” Griffin said, his tone harsh.

  Just then a single rap came at the door, and a red envelope was slid underneath. Griffin quickly opened the door, hoping to see who had delivered the letter, but nobody was in the hallway. Like this was some ghost ship. He snatched up the envelope and tore it open. Travel instructions.

  “Interesting,” he said. “We’re supposed to be in Thailand by noon tomorrow. Thailand time.”

  “So we’re flying parts of it then,” Jax said.

  “Yeah, but I already checked. Any commercial flight takes nineteen to twenty-five hours. We better be flying Air Force One to make Thailand by then. Right off the bat, we’re short like fourteen hours, just because of the time differences. Could be more like fifteen hours ahead, depending on which part of Thailand we’re dealing with.”

  Jax groaned, then threw himself on the top bunk. “In that case, … I have time to sleep now. I didn’t get much shut-eye last night.”

  “Who did?” Griffin muttered. Trouble was, he was hungry again. The leftover Chinese food hadn’t done the job. He quickly pulled out his phone to check if he had any internet. He did, since they were still in port. He sent off a text message. Envelope received. Travel instructions received. No damn food. No coffee.

  He put away his phone and dropped to the bottom bunk, an arm across his eyes. It was one thing to be part of a well-oiled Navy SEAL team on board a ship. They did constant training when they went out to sea. Everybody had orders; everybody had instructions, and everybody had a part to play. In this scenario though, Griffin didn’t know what part he was supposed to play. That had been the same problem for Kerrick. After all those years of the disciplined navy life, Griffin found the sudden freedom in his daily routines something to adjust to. But he’d do just fine, he just needed time. Something he didn’t have right now.

  Helping out Kerrick had been a hell of a way to drop into this all-new Mavericks system. Griffin wasn’t even sure it’s what he wanted to do long-term. He’d been on the fence when he’d been tagged to help out Kerrick—who was going in alone—and, well, that wasn’t Griffin’s kind of a play. Nobody should go into these shitstorms without backup.

  And, if some woman had been kidnapped, … well, two former SEALs would have a better chance of survival and success versus a larger team from another agency. His phone buzzed, and an encrypted file popped up with a note. His eyebrows shot up at that. He quickly followed instructions to decode it and went through the file on Amelia Rose.

  “That’s the daughter we’re supposed to find,” he said, raising his phone to flash her picture to Jax. “Except the photo’s beyond dated. And chances are someone else put out the cry for help.”

  “Is she really being held against her will?” Jax asked. “That’s one of the biggest issues here. Did she put out the cry for help, or did somebody else?”

  Griffin was still going through her file when he froze, looked at the date, and swore. “I’ll say it wasn’t her choice,” Griffin snapped, studying the data in front of him.

  “And how do you know that?” Jax asked.

  “She’s eleven years old.”

  Jax peered over his top bunk at Griffin on the bottom bunk and said, “What the hell?”

  Griffin nodded with a grimace. “She’s just a child. It says here she was kidnapped, along with her nurse and her tutor.”

  “And how old’s the nurse? If she’s gray-haired and sixty, we’re in trouble.”

  “The nurse is sixty-eight. So, yeah, we’re in trouble. The tutor, however, is thirty-two and speaks three languages. Her name is Lorelei. Lorelei James.”

  “So Lorelei got the word out?” Jax asked curiously.

  “Most likely,” he said. “But, as usual, our intel is very skimpy.”

  “It seems like we go into these jobs with less and less intel each time,” Jax said. He waited a moment and then said, “I heard a few details about your job with Kerrick, but it went okay, didn’t it?”

  Griffin groaned. “It did, but it was touch-and-go a couple times. That kid, Brandon, he was something else.”

  “Didn’t Kerrick say something about the woman he rescued being part of the same high-IQ group?”

  “Yes, she’s back in her lab. The entire corporate organization has been reshuffled as she stepped up in power after all the changes. Her father had also stepped up and bought a whole pile of shares and handed over voting power to her to give her complete control of the company.”

  “Wow,” Jax said. “Not bad for her. And I guess Kerrick is sticking around Paris.”

  “Yeah, and he’s running communications for us this time.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Jax asked.

  “I think it’s the Mavericks command center. Nobody is allowed to know what we do, where we’re from, or what our histories are.”

  “So, are fake IDs in that envelope for us?”

  “Maybe,” he said, “but I didn’t think so.” He grabbed the red envelope, opened it again, and then whistled gently. “Well, there are now. They were stuck to the inside of the envelope.” He quickly ripped off the tape, releasing the IDs. He handed one to Jax. “This is you, Malcolm.”

  “Whoever invented these names,” Jax said, “should be shot.”

  “Hey, it’s way more normal than your real one,” Griffin said with a laugh.

  “You’re one to talk,” Jax said. “Who names their kid after some legendary creature in Greek mythology?”

  “I think Griffins are found in many different societies back then,” he said. “So, whatever. It’s unusual enough, but I’ve always liked it.”

  “I like mine too. But can’t say much about Malcolm. Malcolm Harris.”

  “Well, that’s all right in my opinion,” Griffin said, groaning. “I’ve been renamed as George. George Honeycutt.”

  At that, Jax chuckled. “That sounds lovely.”

  “It makes me sound beyond old. It’s supposedly an unassuming name,” he said. “At least this guy has brown hair and gray eyes. Close enough to pass for me.” This time he checked the inside of the envelope more thoroughly—to the point where he ripped it open. “Okay, I don’t see anything else in here. But this is a journalist’s media pass, and, if you look on the back, it’s got a British citizen’s ID card.”

  “Like we look like Brits,” Jax said with a scoff. “And I certainly don’t have an English accent.”

  “I don’t think you need to worry about that,” he said. “I think it’s a case of nobody gets to look at these close enough to double-check.”

  Just then another single knock came. Both men hopped up, with Jax standing behind the door. Griffin hurriedly opened the door, hoping to surprise whoever was on the other side. But, once again, he saw no one. There were, however, two large trays of covered food. He looked at it and smiled. “Well, at least my text did something.”

  “What? Did you text, asking for food?” Jax asked, chuckling.

  “Hey, if we’ve got a lot of traveling to do, I want to make sure I’m fed. I cannot do anything if I don’t have energy.”

  “Oh, I agree with you. I’m just surprised you got service so fast.”

  “One thing I learned from that last op with Kerrick,” he said, “is that anything, a
bsolutely anything you want, you just ask for it. They do their best to deliver.”

  “Good to know.” They brought the trays inside, sat down, and stared at the covered dishes. “It’s still cafeteria food though, isn’t it, just under a fancy domed plate?” Jax asked.

  Griffin uncovered his. “But a step above,” he said. “I don’t know about you, but I got steak and prawns.”

  Jax looked at Griffin’s plate in shock and said, “Seriously?” And then he lifted the lid to his plate and said, “Look at that. I do too.”

  “But you don’t like prawns, do you?”

  “No. I’ll trade you for your steak.”

  “Hell no,” Griffin said. “I’ll just eat your prawns when you’re done with your steak. I know you won’t eat them, so I don’t have to give you anything.” He gave Jax a big grin. “Good deal for me.”

  With that, the two men quickly polished off their meals, and then, even though it was early in the morning, they stretched out, and this time both crashed.

  Lorelei James sat quietly in the corner of the room. Amelia Rose was sound asleep in her arms. Finally the little girl’s tears—loaded with homesickness, loss, and grief—had dried, then had sent her crashing into a deep and restorative sleep. Lorelei, still conscious, still awake, still dealt with the terror of what these bastards had done to Nurse. Lorelei had long ago forgotten the older woman’s real name as everyone called her Nurse. It’s how she wanted it.

  Why had she been killed outright? And yet, Lorelei and Amelia Rose had been also kidnapped and kept alive. In Lorelei’s mind, she figured that their kidnappers had deemed Lorelei an asset whereas Nurse had been a liability. Nurse was definitely older, walked with a heavy limp, and was cantankerous and fussy, whereas Lorelei had done what they’d asked and had tried hard to be obedient. She knew in no way they would ever get out of this nightmare if she caused any more trouble. Nurse’s death had been a well-heeded lesson—if that’s what the kidnappers had intended.

  But poor Nurse—no, Mary. That was her name. She had been with Amelia Rose since birth. And Lorelei believed Mary had been nurse to Amelia Rose’s father too.