Operation: Midnight Guardian

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Authors: Linda Castillo

Tags: #Suspense

BOOK: Operation: Midnight Guardian
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Don’t look behind you!

The shadow of a man appeared seemingly out of nowhere and lunged at her. She pivoted, trying to scramble away. But she wasn’t fast enough, and a hard body plowed into her with the force of a Sherman tank.

Strong arms clamped around her like a vise and tackled her to the ground. Spitting dirt, she rolled and lashed out with both feet. Satisfaction flicked in her brain when her assailant grunted. The next thing she knew he was on top of her. With her arms bound, she could not defend herself.

“Get off me!” she shouted.

She caught a glimpse of dark eyes. She felt the tremendous force of his strength, and her only thought was that these were the last moments of her life.

“If you want to live, you’ll be quiet.”

 

 

 

LINDA CASTILLO

 

OPERATION: MIDNIGHT GUARDIAN

 

 

 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Linda Castillo knew at a very young age that she wanted to be a writer—and penned her first novel at the age of thirteen. She is the winner of numerous writing awards, including the Holt Medallion, the Golden Heart, the Daphne du Maurier and received a nomination for the prestigious RITA® Award.

Linda loves writing edgy romantic suspense novels that push the envelope and take her readers on a rollercoaster ride of breathtaking romance and thrilling suspense. She resides in Texas with her husband, four lovable dogs and an Appaloosa named George. For a complete list of her books, check out her Web site at www.lindacastillo.com. Contact her at [email protected]. Or write to her at P.O. Box 670501, Dallas, Texas 75367-0501.

 

 

 

Books by Linda Castillo

HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE

871—OPERATION: MIDNIGHT TANGO

890—OPERATION: MIDNIGHT ESCAPE

920—OPERATION: MIDNIGHT GUARDIAN

 

 

CAST OF CHARACTERS

 

Sean Cutter
—It is the mission of a lifetime: apprehend escaped prisoner Mattie Logan before a terrorist cell can retrieve the secrets locked inside her head. Will his heart survive an encounter with the angel-faced beauty?

Mattie Logan
—A brilliant former Department of Defense scientist, did she sell her soul for the likes of money? Or was she framed by someone she trusted?

Daniel Savage
—Is he an innocent Department of Defense coworker willing to risk his career to help Mattie? Or is he the man responsible for framing her?

The Jaguar
—A cruel terrorist with a personal vendetta against Sean Cutter. He will do anything to obtain the secret locked inside Mattie Logan’s head. Will he get to her before Cutter?

Mike Madrid
—He is the man Cutter calls when the going gets rough and lives are on the line. But is he willing to go the distance to save the life of an alleged traitor?

Martin Wolfe
—He’s at the very top of the CIA food chain. He wants the Jaguar caught at any cost. But does he deem Mattie Logan expendable?

 

 

 

Contents

 

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

 

 

 

Prologue

 

The prison van swayed rhythmically as it barreled into the night, but Mattie Logan didn’t sleep. The judge’s final word rang like a death knell in her ears.

Guilty.

The verdict had been handed down eight hours earlier in the federal courthouse in Billings, Montana. She couldn’t believe she would be spending the rest of her life in prison. How in the name of God had this happened?

She’d asked herself that question a thousand times in the past four months. Four agonizing months spent in a prison cell the size of a bathroom. A cell where she’d come very close to losing her mind. The only thing that had kept her going was the promise of justice. The hope that truth would prevail. Eight hours ago that hope had been ripped from her desperate grasp,
and she was left with nothing but a keen sense of impending doom.

Mattie Logan, you are hereby sentenced to life in prison.

When she shifted on the bench seat, the shackles on her ankles and wrists rattled. The U.S. Marshal sitting across from her glanced at her over the top of his magazine but didn’t offer to loosen the cuffs. Because of the nature of her alleged crime, she’d been deemed a high security risk. The term was laughable—or terrifying, depending on your point of view. Nonetheless, three U.S. Marshals had been assigned to transport her from Billings to a federal prison facility at an undisclosed location in Washington State.

Mattie gazed out the small window at the stark winter-dead trees silhouetted against a jagged horizon. They were traveling on a desolate stretch of highway somewhere in the mountains and heading west. The bleak scene reminded her of her life—cold and desolate—and at that moment she’d never felt more alone.

She leaned against the seat back and tried not to think. But her scientist’s mind was always at work. It was one of the reasons she’d been hired to work on the top-secret EDNA project at the Department of Defense.

If only she’d known….

A loud bang disrupted the silence. The van swerved violently, tossing her against the wall. Mattie looked over to see the young marshal rise, his expression alarmed, his hand going to his sidearm. Had a tire blown?

Then a second bang sounded. The van veered left, the force throwing Mattie to the floor. A few feet away the young marshal clutched the balance bar as he stumbled toward the cab, his eyes trained on the driver.

“Sam, what happened?” he shouted.
“Sam!”

The driver didn’t answer. Through the windshield Mattie saw the headlights play wildly over brush and sapling trees. Fear cut through her when she realized the van was careening into a ravine.

A violent bump sent her two feet into the air. The marshal stumbled and fell but didn’t drop his radio. “Bravo Victor Two Niner. We got a code—”

His voice was cut off as the van pitched. Mattie caught a glimpse of the driver slumped over the wheel. Out the window, she saw sparks and debris spew high into the air. Another lurch tossed her to the opposite side of the van and sent the marshal sliding across the floor. The
female marshal was shouting as she grappled for her radio.

The lights blinked out, plunging them into darkness. The floor tilted, and Mattie began to tumble. She tried to raise her arms to protect herself, but the cuffs and shackles hindered her. A sound that was part scream, part moan tore from her throat when her head snapped back, shattering glass.

Then suddenly the van was still. In total darkness Mattie lay on her back. Somewhere nearby steam hissed. The side door was now above her and stood open. Cold air poured in, embracing her with icy fingers. Beyond, a sliver of moon illuminated fast-moving storm clouds.

The female marshal called out. “Is everyone all right?”

“I think my leg’s broke,” came a weak voice.

“What the hell happened?” came a third.

“Logan? You okay?”

Mattie did a quick physical inventory. Her head hurt. Raising her hand, she touched her temple, felt the wetness of blood. “I’m cut.”

“Stay put.” One male marshal groaned as he rose.

“What about Sam?” the female marshal asked, referring to the driver.

Mattie looked toward the cab. By the light of the moon she could see that the driver was slumped across the seat at an odd angle.

“I’ll check.” One of the male marshals went to the driver.

“We’ve got an engine fire,” came another voice.

“Let’s get everyone out of the van.”

Mattie shoved herself to a sitting position and looked around. Through the cab window she saw the yellow flicker of flames coming from the engine. Somewhere in the van, the injured marshal groaned in pain.

The other male marshal came up beside her and squatted. “I’m going to take the shackles off your ankles so you can climb out.”

Still numb with shock, Mattie nodded. “Okay.”

Quickly he removed the shackles and tossed them aside. Leaving the handcuffs in place, he took her arm firmly and guided her toward the open door where the female agent was waiting. “Get the prisoner to a safe place and keep an eye on her. Get on the radio and get an ambulance and the local sheriff’s office here ASAP. I’m going to get Sam out in case the van blows.”

“Roger that.” The female marshal heaved herself through the open door, then leaned down and offered her hand to Mattie. “Come on.”

Mattie braced her feet on the seat back and let the woman pull her from the van. Cold night air engulfed her as she emerged. She smelled gasoline and smoke. Felt heat from the engine fire. The female marshal pointed to a fallen log several yards away. “Sit down and don’t move. You got that?”

On shaking legs Mattie stumbled over to the log and sat down hard. She didn’t know if it was from cold or shock, but she couldn’t seem to stop shaking. The van had ended up on its side thirty-five feet down a treacherously steep ravine. The interior lights were out, but a single dim headlight shot a beam through the darkness, exposing a cliff that surely would have killed all onboard had the van gone over.

The female marshal tugged her radio from her belt. “This is Bravo Victor Two Niner—”

A soft
thwack!
sounded. Startled by the sound, Mattie looked up in time to see the female marshal collapse. Concerned, she rushed to the fallen woman and knelt.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

At first she though the marshal had succumbed to some injury sustained in the crash. Panic hit when she found herself looking at a hole the size of a dime in the woman’s forehead.

“Oh my God.” Mattie staggered back. She looked around, spotted the two male marshals climbing out of the van. “I think she’s been shot!” she cried.

The two men looked at her. “What are you talking about?”

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

Both marshals jerked as if an overzealous puppeteer had yanked invisible strings. Something dark and shiny bloomed on one of the men’s jacket. They collapsed and lay still.

Mattie stared at the fallen men in disbelief. Someone was shooting at them, but she couldn’t fathom who or why. What was going on?

A light slashed through the darkness at the top of the ravine. Relief swept through her when four men emerged from a black SUV. She was about to call out to them when it struck her that they were speaking in a language she wasn’t familiar with. Who were they? How had they arrived on the scene so quickly?

Instinct sent her slinking behind the fallen log. From her hiding place, she watched as they started toward the wreckage and the downed U.S. Marshals. Were these men rescuers? Or were they the shooters?

One of the men stopped at the nearest fallen
marshal. “Where is your prisoner?” he asked in a heavily accented voice.

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