Relentless (Option Zero 2)

Liam shrugged. He didn’t have time to argue about Aubrey Starr and why he didn’t want her on this op.

“Nothing. We’re good. Tell Jules to feel better. I’ll see you on the plane.”

Ash looked like he was going to say something else, but then stopped himself.

“What?” Liam asked.

“Something going on with you? I mean, besides this op and your disapproval of an outsider?”

Yeah, he couldn’t deny that his attitude was less than stellar. He should be pumped that they’d found the victims and would soon rescue them. It’s what they’d been working on for weeks. Instead, he was suddenly just the opposite.

“Talk to me, Liam,” Ash said. “Let me help.”

How could he explain what had been hammering at his brain on and off for the last few days? How could he explain giving up? It wasn’t in his DNA. Wasn’t in the DNA of anyone at OZ. The idea was barely one he’d allow himself to consider, but it was simmering in his gut, and he couldn’t squelch it the way he normally would. He was beginning to believe he would never find Cat. He had lived on hope for so long, but he had been lying to himself. He’d seen the eyes of the victims he’d rescued. The hopelessness, the absolute emptiness. The acceptance that she was dead was slowly seeping into his bones, and though he fought it, he couldn’t bring himself back to a place of hope.

He shook his head. This wasn’t the time nor the place for these thoughts or this discussion. The people they were going to rescue deserved his whole attention. He refused to give anything but his best.

“I’m fine. Just focused on getting it right this time.”

Eyes narrowed, Ash gave him a hard, assessing stare and then nodded. “Then let’s get going.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Being in the presence of eight highly trained operatives was a bit like sitting amongst a pride of lions. Even though they were sitting, they had an air of power and alertness about them. Aubrey got the feeling that if anything moved even the slightest, not one of them would miss seeing it.

She was seated across from Eve Wells and Gideon Wright. She could not imagine two more sophisticated and dangerous-looking people. Though Eve was a lovely woman, with midnight-black hair, a creamy camellia complexion, and intense blue eyes, Aubrey didn’t doubt for a moment that she could be lethal when necessary. And her partner, Gideon, with summer-streaked blond hair and an easygoing grin, reminded her of a taller and beefier Brad Pitt. Except he had an edge to him no Hollywood actor could authentically emulate. He was the real deal.

It had been years since she’d felt out of her element, but there was no doubt about it—these people were a different breed.

Her gaze shifted to the man in the front row. His long legs sprawled out in front of him, Liam Stryker had the slouch of a man at leisure, but like the others, it was all an act. A dangerous air surrounded him as if he could leap and devour prey within seconds.

Aubrey tried to observe him objectively, without the haze of uncertainty clouding her mind. He was tall, maybe about six-two. He had dark brown hair that was slightly shaggy, as if he’d gotten out of the shower, run his fingers through the dampness, and called it done. On anyone else it might have looked sloppy. On Liam Stryker, it worked. His dark brown eyes could sear with the briefest of glances. He had a sharp blade of a nose that leaned slightly to the left, as if it had been broken and set to rights by the owner of said nose. His mouth was nice, with a slightly thin upper lip and fuller lower one. And even though she’d only seen him frown, there were slight lines on either side of his mouth that made her think he wasn’t always so grim.

The broad set of his shoulders told her he’d probably played sports in high school, maybe college, too. His hands were large, almost twice the size of hers, with long fingers and neatly trimmed nails. She could envision those hands being lethal when necessary. She could also imagine them being passionate, even tender.

A shiver swept up her spine as a slight flush of heat zoomed through her body. Just because he had a voice similar to the man she’d known as Lion didn’t mean she should be attracted to him. He’d been nothing but gruff, bordering on rude, since they’d met. She liked friendly, easygoing men. Not grumpy jerks.

There were many things she’d forgotten about her ordeal in Syria. Some of them she’d forgotten naturally; others she had forced into a tight, small corner of her mind, never to be exposed to her thoughts again. But that time with Lion? She remembered every word, every

breath, every nuance. Even as sick as she’d been, his gruff laughter had made her smile, his voice had soothed her like nothing else.

He had been kind, funny, and incredibly caring. Within minutes of hearing his voice, she had known he was a man she could trust with her secrets. He had been a man she could imagine spending the rest of her life with, growing old together.

This man with his grim countenance and tough demeanor had nothing in common with Lion. The voice? An anomaly, nothing more. Lots of people sounded like other people. How many could mimic other people’s voices? It had been over twelve years since she’d heard Lion speak. Even though she’d told herself she would never forget his voice, perhaps that had been only wishful thinking.

Her mind shied away from that thought. She couldn’t bear to think that the one thing she had left of him—his voice in her mind—was merely a product of her longing and nothing more.

Aubrey gave Liam Stryker another assessing stare. Even though she rejected the idea that this was Lion, she had to admit that the description of himself that he had given her fit this man very well. Dark brown hair, brown eyes, around six foot two, weight around two-ten. Lots of men fit that description, though.

As if aware of her scrutiny, he turned to look at her. The flush of heat in her body went hotter. Those dark eyes seared, and she felt as though he were looking deep within her soul, searching…and asking. What? What did he want to know? Should she go talk to him? Should she just ask the question that was pounding at her brain? Were you in Syria twelve years ago? Did you meet a desolate young woman in a dark, dank prison and give her hope and a reason to survive? Are you my Lion?

Was she afraid to know the truth? Did she already know it and refused to accept it?

No, it couldn’t be him. He would have recognized her. Something about her would have triggered his memory. Based on his attitude he had no recollection of her, which meant he wasn’t Lion. He just happened to have a similar voice and that was it. She was being fanciful and that wasn’t like her.

Their eyes broke contact, and Aubrey mentally shook herself. She was here for one reason only, to experience as much as she could about rescuing human trafficking victims. Since she wouldn’t be allowed to do any filming, she would need to absorb every nuance and emotion to be able to relay the experience in words.

Determined to put aside the emotions rioting through her, Aubrey took out pen and paper and did just that.