Rory (In the Company of Snipers Book 6) Read online

  RORY

  IN THE COMPANY OF SNIPERS

  Book 6

  IRISH WINTERS

  COPYRIGHT

  RORY; In the Company of Snipers, 6

  Copyright ©2015 by Irish Winters

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, dialogues, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Edited by Cas Peace, http://portablemagicediting.com

  Cover design and author photo by Kelli Ann Morgan,

  http://www.inspirecreativeservices.com

  Interior book design by Bob Houston eBook Formatting

  First American Edition

  ISBN: 978-1-942895-02-2

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2015931440

  Irish Winters can be contacted at:

  http://www.irishwinters.com or http://irishwinters.blogspot.com.

  IN THE COMPANY OF SNIPERS

  This multi-book series revolves around ex-Marine scout sniper, Alex Stewart, and his covert surveillance company, The TEAM, home-based out of Alexandria, Virginia. An obsessive patriot and workaholic, he created the company to give ex-military snipers coming back from the wars a chance at a decent job.

  In the Company of Snipers is a collection of love stories. Book 1, ALEX, reveals how The TEAM came to be as well as how Alex and Kelsey met, fell in love, and fought all odds to stay together. Each of the following stories is a complete romance in itself where, in the course of an active TEAM operation, one agent will come face to face with his or her demons. They’re all patriots and warriors, dealing with what they’ve lived through or the mistakes they’ve made.

  By the end of the telling, it is my hope that you, my reader, will come to realize along with my heroes that....

  Love changes everything.

  Reviews for the series

  In the Company of Snipers

  ALEX, Book 1

  “These characters were so well written at times I felt like I was feeling the love, the loss, and the triumph right along with them.”

  – Tabitha, (Amazeballs Book Addicts)

  MARK, Book 2

  “Irish Winters has outdone her first book, Alex!”

  – My Secret Book Spot

  ZACK, Book 3

  “This is my first book by Irish Winters and I have to say I'm sold!”

  – Janett Gomez

  “Fantastic. Around every corner it just keeps getting more intense.”

  – Susan Sims

  “Zack does not disappoint.” – Abracken, Salt Lake City, UT.

  HARLEY, Book 4

  “Supremely well done, Ms. Winters!” – K. Holt

  “I have been so anxious to read Harley's book. He is one of the sweetest male heroes that I have come across in a long time. Don't let that fool you though, he is also terribly flawed and a down right bad ass when he needs to be.” – Malissa Coy

  CONNOR, Book 5

  “Every time I read one of her books, I swear it's my favorite.... until I read the next one.” – Nikki Booth

  “Thrilling, suspenseful, heartbreaking and tender - you will not want to put this book down once you start.”

  – Jen M. (Whittier, CA, US)

  Dedication

  Ashley Argyle

  Nov. 11, 1979 – Nov 18, 2014

  Acknowledgements

  How long shall I write? Until the last TEAM member tells me he has no story to tell, no mission to complete, and no tender love to discover. Until then, I’m indebted to these loyal friends and partners in the world of publishing: Nancy Richardson and Lynn Hill, my loyal beta-readers. They’ve been in my corner since day one.

  For Cas Peace, my editor and the only person brave enough to tell me where the real ending of the story should be.

  For Bob Houston, who took on the tough job of formatting RORY and putting up with last minute changes from the author.

  For Kelli Ann Morgan who nailed the cover art. Need I say more?

  For my many fans and the friends I’ve made along the way, you are still the most fun, awe-inspiring bunch of crazy people I’ve ever met. It has been my privilege to shake your hands, sign your books, and listen to your stories. Never did I anticipate the fantastic response from military members and spouses that this series has garnered. It is an honor.

  And as always, I end with my husband, Bill. I wouldn’t be living my dream without my fearless companion at my side. He’s my sounding board, my wailing wall, and the only guy who’s ever brought me chocolate strawberries and diamonds. He is the reason I know that….

  Love changes everything.

  Prologue

  “One!” A little boy’s cheerful voice rang out across the gym floor.

  Ember watched intently from her workout on one of the gym’s newest elliptical trainers. She thought the man with the boy had looked familiar, but now she was certain. There was no mistaking the Hollywood handsome guy she worked with at the best East Coast surveillance company out of Alexandria, Virginia—The TEAM.

  Even sweaty and hard at work, Junior Agent Rory Dennison was eye candy. Lean muscles rippled beneath a sleeveless T-shirt while he completed crunch after crunch. He made it look simple. Smooth and easy. Steady and sure. The trademark of one of America’s elite snipers.

  She didn’t know he had a son—if that’s who the little boy was. He had to be. The resemblance was unmistakable—black hair that might be curly if it were allowed to grow longer, deep blue eyes, and the hint of a cleft in both their very masculine chins.

  They had the same straight and elegant nose. Rory’s jaw was more squared off, but the boy’s gently arched brows were exact copies of his father’s. He had the same handsome smile. He was a mini-Rory. A clone. Only a lot smaller. Never having been around kids, she guesstimated maybe five or six years of age.

  “Two!” Mini-Rory couldn’t seem to sit still for long. He wiggled his backside on the basketball he was sitting on and waved his hands as if shaking water off.

  His father performed another sit-up as easily as his other reps, not missing a beat. Sweat glistened on his forehead, neck, and arms from the earlier sets of push-ups he’d finished. His gray T-shirt darkened in a line down his back and across his chest. And still he pumped. The boy had helped with the push-ups, too—by sitting on his father’s back and counting with as much gusto.

  Rory smiled through another crunch, barely grunting as he lifted upward, his arms folded over his chest. “How am I doing?”

  “You doing great.” Tyler beamed. “Go, Daddy, go!”

  A seemingly perpetual smile tugged at the corner of Rory’s lips—a most endearing sight from a man as tough and steadfast as he was. He truly seemed to be enjoying his son. Wow. What a picture.

  “Then which crunch are we on now?”

  “Six!”

  “You mean eleven,” Rory said, barely panting between repetitions.

  The cute little guy shook his head, bounced three times on his basketball, and said very seriously, “No, I mean four.”

  “Okay then, four it is.”

  “Now is thirteen!” Tyler crowed. “I is your best counter, huh Daddy?”

  “Always have been, always will b
e.” Rory continued crunch after crunch with his son shouting random numbers in glee to urge him on.

  “Eleven!” Tyler called out, but he spotted something funny. “Look. That lady gots pink in her hair.”

  Ember cringed. She’d been caught. She waved across the gym with a cheerful, “Hey, Rory.”

  He returned the wave, but his brows scowled to an unhappy V. He turned and said something quietly to Tyler.

  She dismounted the trainer and checked her heart rate. A steady exercise routine made for the perfect end to the day, but it also made her sweaty, not that she usually cared about that. All the guys she worked with had seen her working out before at the onsite gym at TEAM headquarters. They knew what a mess she could be. All except Rory. He’d never used The TEAM’s gym. Interesting.

  The only reason she hadn’t was the new elliptical trainers her boss, Alex Stewart, was slow to buy. He needed to be persuaded with facts and statistics, so here she was, trying out the latest equipment and fact-finding. And there was Rory—with a child who was obviously his son. Very interesting.

  Despite his less than enthusiastic greeting, she draped her towel over the back of her neck and ambled over to chat. “Wow, it’s a small world, isn’t it? If I’d known you worked out here, I could’ve asked your opinion on these new ellipticals. I’m trying to convince Alex to upgrade some of the gym equipment. Who’s this cute little guy? Your trainer?”

  Tyler jumped up off his ball and wrapped both arms around Rory’s thigh, proudly and loudly proclaiming, “I Ty-ler Den-ni-son. My number is—”

  “Shh. That’s enough.” Rory offered an uncharacteristically tight-lipped smile that didn’t even hint at reaching his eyes. “You’ll have to excuse Tyler. We’re learning our phone number and address. He’s excited to share.”

  “Wow. Kids are brighter than most people give them credit for, huh?” She grinned, a thousand questions pinging in her mind for answers. Rory and she had worked together for the last year or so. Why had he kept this darling child a secret?

  Rory nodded, his eyes guarded and his voice the same. “Yes, they are.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Four.”

  “He speaks quite well for a little guy.” She opted for small conversation.

  “Yes.”

  “Wow.” Ember couldn’t think of anything else to say without coming across like a busybody. Rory seemed perturbed, his one-word answers revealing little so she didn’t press. There was a time when he’d seemed friendly, when she’d almost asked him to go out for coffee or a drink after work. Somewhere in the past few months, the easygoing feeling between them had changed. She didn’t know why.

  He rolled his neck, ruffling his fingers through his son’s hair. “Tyler, I work with this lady. Her name is Miss Davis. What do you say when you meet an adult?”

  Tyler stuck out his arm for a gentleman’s handshake, a big grin on his face. “I say I glad to meetcha.”

  Ember shook his hand, impressed with his diction. “Wow. Aren’t you the polite one? It’s very nice to meet you, too, Mr. Tyler Dennison. Is that your ball?”

  “Uh huh,” he replied, jumping out of his father’s reach to scoop the basketball into both arms.

  “Tyler,” Rory said sternly. “How do we act in public?”

  His son beamed a thousand-watt smile, dropped the ball and hugged Rory’s leg again. “I did good, huh Daddy?”

  “You always do.” He winked down at his son, and Ember couldn’t miss the bond between them. The instant Rory’s eyes made contact with Tyler’s, they changed from the icy cool stare he’d given her to one of genuine warmth.

  She knelt at Tyler’s level to take the pressure off his father. Rory needed to loosen up. “So, Mr. Tyler Dennison, do you come to the gym often?”

  “Yep!” he said with gusto. “I Daddy’s bestest counter. Wanna hear me? I know my twos and frees and tens.”

  Rory tapped the top of his son’s head. “Another time. Get your ball. Let’s go.”

  Tyler scrambled after the basketball.

  “He’s adorable.” She stood, her hands on her hips and her eyes full of unanswered questions. “I didn’t know you had a son. Where have you been hiding him?”

  “It’s none of your business, is it?”

  She blinked, totally speechless. Excuse me?

  Without another word, he corralled Tyler and didn’t look back as they headed toward the exit. But Tyler did. Turning with a little wave before his father hurried him through the double glass doors, he shouted in a big outside voice, “Bye, Miss Davis. See ya later alligator!”

  She waved at the precocious youngster. “Bye, Tyler. It was very nice to meet you. Bye, Rory. See you at work tomorrow.”

  He didn’t even turn around.

  One

  A tear?

  Junior Agent Rory Dennison’s sixth sense jolted to life as the tear fell in slow motion, an iridescent crystal drop he couldn’t stop watching—or keep from falling. It tracked over Nima Dawa’s pudgy cheek, reddened from the chill of late October. The liquid pearl bounced when it hit the black velvet gathers on the four-year-old’s dress, then twice more until it cleared the tucks and folds and dropped to the concrete at her feet.

  Even then, he watched its impact, a soundless splash of saline that should not have caught his eye the way it did and meant absolutely nothing. Or did it?

  Nima offered one short little sniff and a nod to her father, Mr. Sonam Lobsang, a Tibetan dignitary with no particular political clout or power. All he wanted was to place a wreath at the Tomb of the Unknown in Arlington National Cemetery.

  In an unusual request, he’d asked the FBI to provide protection for himself on this visit to the States. But for Nima, he’d gone straight to his friend, Alex Stewart, owner of the elite covert surveillance company, The TEAM, and Rory’s boss. It seemed the Tibetan dignitary did not trust the Bureau with his most dear treasure. Only with him.

  Nima’s lower lip puckered. Quivered. Sadness shifted over her face. For an incredible instant, all innocence was gone. She was not just a little girl dressed up for her father’s special day. She appeared older. Infinitely wiser. Frighteningly un-child-like. She was—something else.

  Rory’s heart jumped to his throat, choking him. He shook his head, blinking hard to chase the apparition away. In that short half-second it took to do that, she transformed again. The person or entity—or whatever he’d seen, was gone. The somber child was back.

  Like heck. His heart wasn’t thundering for no reason at all. He’d seen something. But what?

  The proper answer failed to materialize, but hyper-vigilance sure did. Fear constricted the calm right out of him. It hadn’t been that long since he’d come home from the Middle East battle theater, less since he’d nearly died during a horrendously tough operation in Sonora, Mexico. His fingers turned to ice. The sickening sensation of impending doom crept up his throat, suffocating him.

  Suddenly the world was not a safe place to be any longer. Danger was too near. Death, too imminent. But from where? A quick scan of the docile crowd gathered around the Arlington Amphitheater revealed no reason for the spike of adrenaline pouring into his gut. No abnormally nervous twitch amongst the onlookers disguised a hidden agenda. No darting eyes. No hands in pockets holding concealed weapons, either. No suspicious predator lurked in the midst of that flock of sheep. He would know. He’d hunted predators before.

  The National Cemetery had never looked so—normal.

  Or felt so—not.

  Ember caught his eye, her brows furrowed as well. Leaning toward him, she whispered, “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing. Stay sharp,” he ordered out of the side of his mouth. “Keep an eye on her father, too.” But something had happened. He just couldn’t quantify it. Yet.

  Their assignment to provide one day of escort service for the child no longer felt like a simple operation. Rory studied the crowd gathered on the white marble stairs of the Memorial Amphitheater facing the Tomb. How
could there be danger here?

  Mr. Lobsang was not there with a political agenda or to garner favor from the current United States administration. His request was simple. He wanted to offer a prayer for peace and to lay a wreath. The ceremony was a non-event. Both the FBI and The TEAM had certainly escorted more famous and infamous foreign diplomats.

  After the inconsequential ceremony, Lobsang planned to speak to a small gathering of faithful followers at a local Buddhist temple, after which he and his daughter would return home to India on a late flight. As lead agent for the routine day, Rory planned to be home in time for dinner. He had a son and a life. Working for Alex was just a job.

  So why am I on edge?

  Stifling the unfounded acid build up in his gut, he watched while the joint service honor guard moved with fluid precision. Five honor guards of one Armed Service after another climbed the stairs to the white marble tomb. While the Air Force band played The National Anthem, the joint color guard presented all military service colors along with the American flag. Army. Navy. Marines. Coast Guard. Air Force.

  Rory usually loved the sight. The red, white, and blue stirred his heart no matter where it waved—football games, Mom and Pop diners, or battlefields. It was something to be proud of. But today he couldn’t wait for the show to be done, the field cleared, and his Tibetan dignitaries out of public view.

  When Mr. Lobsang rose, Rory stifled the urge to escort him. He’d have been out of line. That was FBI duty, not TEAM. Two of the Bureau’s finest followed Lobsang: Thomas Drake and Gilbert Sachs. Dressed in their typical black business suits, dark glasses and ear buds, they maintained a close watch across the audience.

  He’d worked with Drake and Sachs before. They were thorough professionals and prone to be overly cautious, a trait he appreciated. With them on duty, dinner on time with Tyler was all but guaranteed. But the real question was, could they protect Lobsang from the unseen danger Rory sensed? Loosening his tie a notch, his hackles lifted. Instinct subsumed logic, urging him to flight or fight.