Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Saving Sarah (Kindle Worlds Novella) (New Orleans Connection Series Book 7) (2 page)

Mine.

"Mr. Boudreau, I've documented everything inside that envelope.  It explains precisely why…"

"I'm sure it does, but I want
you
to tell me.  Why are you in New Orleans, and what in the hell do you need with me?"

Her blue eyes met his head on, no evasion, no pretense.  "I need you to save my life."

CHAPTER TWO

Sarah stared at the stranger seated across from her.  Half hidden in the shadows, there was a deceptive casualness to his posture, a relaxed I-don't-care-what's-happening-around-me vibe, but she knew beneath the façade, his body was coiled, ready for action.  His long dark hair was pulled back away from his face, and she couldn't help noticing the long jagged scar along the right side. 

Somehow it did nothing to detract from his masculinity.  Just the opposite.  This man's bearing bespoke a warrior through-and-through, and exactly the kind of person she needed.  The mission she'd undertaken was wrought with pitfalls and possible danger, and he might be her one shot at coming out unscathed. 

Deep brown eyes the color of fine whiskey bored into her, and she fought the urge to squirm in her chair. 

Get hold of yourself.  You're a professional.  He's just another guy, even if he's a Navy SEAL. Wolf promised Mr. Boudreau will protect you, so screw your head on straight and get to the point.

"Mr. Boudreau, my name is Sarah Sloane.  I'm a friend of Caroline Steel, Matthew's wife."  She waited to see if he'd respond in any way, but he never uttered a single word.  Instead he watched her, his penetrating gaze never leaving hers.  Under that intense scrutiny, she felt like a bug under a microscope, and battled back the urge to spring from her chair and head for the nearest door.  But she couldn't afford to tuck tail and run.  Her sister's life, hell, her own life, depended on getting Gaston Boudreau's protection. 

"Matthew, I mean Wolf, would have come himself, but his team is heading out on an assignment.  Some last minute thing."  She picked at the edge of the envelope beneath her hand.  Wolf told her to make a list of everything she knew, everything that had happened since her sister's disappearance.  It would be so much easier if he'd just read the damn thing instead of making her talk. 

"Start at the beginning."  His voice was barely above a whisper, but she heard it loud and clear, even above the noisy sounds around them. 

Tapping the envelope with a finger, she slid it across the table, where he left it untouched.  "I'm making a mess of things.  Everything's in there.  I wrote down every detail I know.  Names, dates."  She watched his face for any reaction, but had to admit the guy was good.  There wasn't even a tic to give a clue to his thoughts. 

"Details about what, Ms. Sloane?  You still haven't told me why Wolf thought you need me." 

"He said you're more familiar with New Orleans, better than anybody else he knows.  That's what I need, somebody who can get me access to the places I need to go." 

His brow rose, the only indication he'd been listening.  "What places?" 

A shiver raced up her spine as she thought about exactly what she was getting herself into, but she didn't have a choice.  She needed to find Anna.  And time was running out, if it wasn't already too late. 

"Let me start over, Mr. Boudreau.  I have a younger sister, Savannah.  Everybody calls her Anna.  She's in her first year at LSU.  She's funny and loving and brilliant, but a little naïve.  Our parents meant well, but they kept her sheltered growing up."  She reached up and toyed with the end of her ponytail, twirling a curl around one finger.  "She's the baby, and we've all protected her.  This is the first time she's lived away from home.  She's doing great in school and maintains a 4.0 grade average." 

She paused, taking a deep breath.  Talking about Anna with a stranger was harder than she'd imagined.  Her stomach knotted again at the thought of what her baby sister might be going through, while she tried to convince the aloof SEAL seated across from her to aid in her search. 

He glanced toward the bar and raised two fingers, and within seconds two frosty longnecks were placed on the table.  With a shaky hand, she lifted one to her lips and took a swallow, the icy cold liquid refreshing her parched throat. 

"What happened?" 

She didn't want to think about it.  Didn't want to relive the days of anguish her parents endured after the school notified them Anna hadn't shown up for classes.  Phone calls started trickling in from her friends, and then her roommate. 

She fisted her hands, placing them in her lap so he wouldn't see.  The frustration of trying to deal with the New Orleans police had been the last straw.  It was why she sat across from him now—because she was tired of waiting and getting no answers.  The police wouldn't or couldn't do a damn thing because technically Anna was a legal adult.  They'd said if she didn't want to stay in touch with her family, she didn't have to.  They acted like this kind of thing happened all the time—maybe it did, but not to her family.
Other people might sit back and wait, but I can't, because Anna wouldn't disappear without a word.  
 

"My sister and a couple of her friends decided to celebrate Spring Break in New Orleans.  She called home and gave us her itinerary, where she'd be staying, who was going.  I told her to have a great time."  Her voice cracked on the last word, and she wrapped both hands around the beer bottle, needing something to anchor her. 

"Have you talked to the other girls?  Contacted the NOPD?"  See, he was smart, she couldn't help thinking.  He'd already figured out part of the problem. 

"First thing we did.  Her roommate, Karina, stayed behind at LSU to study instead of heading to New Orleans, because she was having trouble with a psych class and needed to put in extra study time.  When Anna didn't come back on Sunday, she called her cellphone and it went straight to voicemail.  After her fifth or sixth call, she couldn't even leave messages—it was full."

She saw the spark of interest flare in his eyes.  Finally, something more than the intense stare he'd been giving her since the moment she stepped through Lucky's front door. 

"What do you think you can do?"  He practically growled the words, the deep timber in his voice making them almost sound like a threat. 

"I'm going to retrace her steps.  I know from talking to the other girls on the trip most of the clubs and bars they visited.  Even the tourist sites where they spent their afternoons."

"What—you think somebody's going to remember one woman out of the hundreds or maybe even thousands that came through the clubs that week?  Sweetheart, I hate to burst your bubble, but you're searching for a needle in a haystack." 

"I don't care, Mr. Boudreau.  Nobody else seems to give a damn that my sister has vanished, disappeared without a trace, except for me and my family.  I'll do whatever it takes, go anyplace I have to, to find her and bring her home."

He took another long pull on his beer, studying her.  She matched him stare for stare, refusing to back down.  Wolf had assured her that Gaston Boudreau was a good man, a man with integrity and honor.  He'd promised that if anybody could help her find Anna, it would be Boudreau. 

"Wolf told me you were the man for the job.  Are you saying you can't keep an eye on me?  I assure you, I'm not going to cause any trouble." 

He had the gall to laugh. 
Bastard
.  

"Sweetheart, you've got trouble written all over you." 

Showed what a lousy judge of character he was.  She was the most boring person she knew, rarely leaving her apartment—too intent on getting her stories onto the page, and she hated to disappoint her readers.  Too bad she didn't write mysteries and suspense, that would have come in handy right now.  Nope, she wrote romance with hot alpha heroes and strong kick-ass heroines, which was how she'd met Caroline and Wolf.  She'd been doing research for a new series on Navy SEALS, and wanted to get information straight from the source.  Her readers expected accuracy and the proper details interwoven with their sexy romance. 

On a whim, she'd contacted the naval base in San Diego, and after a few false starts, had finally been put in contact with Caroline Steel.  The woman was practically a hero in her own right, and was married to her own personal SEAL. 

"I'm going to look for Anna with or without your help, Boudreau.  Since I wasn't familiar with your fair city, Wolf thought it best I have a…bodyguard."  She lowered her head when she spoke the last word, watching him from beneath her lashes. 

"Bodyguard?  What kind of places were your sister and her friends visiting anyway?" 

"No place dangerous, but we're talking about college students out having a great time, away from school and parents and rules.  I'm afraid if she got caught up with the wrong crowd…" 

He set the bottle on the table with such care, she thought for one brief second he was going to refuse to help her.  Until he looked up, and she saw the burning rage behind his gaze.  Though she knew it wasn't directed at her, she leaned back in her chair, putting more space between them.

He noticed, of course.  He drew in a deep breath and held it, then let it out.  Did it a couple of times, and she could only watch in silence. 

"Okay, here's how things are gonna work.  You're going to do exactly what I say.  No questions.  I'll help you look for your sister, and I'll keep you safe—because Wolf asked it.  If you step out of line one time—we're through.  Got it?" 

"Absolutely.  Thank you—"

"Keep your thanks until we find your sister.  In the meantime, let's go.  We'll head to my place, and I'll make some calls."  He watched her closely, as if waiting for her to back down.  Fat chance of that happening. 

"Lead the way, Mr. Boudreau."

He sighed.  "Might as well call me Ranger." 

Tossing several bills onto the table, he stood and headed for the back door, not giving her another glance. 

Watching his ass as he strode toward the exit, she rolled her eyes. 

Damn, this is going to be harder than I thought.

CHAPTER THREE

Ranger pushed open the door to his apartment, guiding Sarah across the threshold.  The place was clean.  Well, pretty much.  It had been a couple of weeks since he'd been here, so there might be a layer of dust.  He'd spent all his free time out at his cabin, needing the escape and the peace the bayou afforded.  Escape from the memories and the nightmares plaguing him.  And the strange dreams—ones he didn't understand—and hadn't told anybody about.  

The shrinks he'd been forced to see after returning stateside called it PTSD.  He called it a pain in the ass, because he didn't feel normal anymore. Hadn't since he'd been rescued from that hellhole in Afghanistan.  Though whenever anybody asked, he was A-OK. 

"Have a seat.  Feel free to grab a drink from the fridge.  I'm going to call a friend at the police station, see if I can get any info on your sister's case."  Spinning on his heel, he headed for the bedroom and some much-needed privacy. 

Shaking his head, he tried to clear away thoughts of the beautiful woman not thirty feet away.  Something about her called to him, and he didn't want or need the complication of a woman in his life.  Not now.  Maybe not ever.  Plus, he didn't want to make this particular call in front of Sarah, in case the news he got from Remy wasn't good.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, he dialed Remy Lamoreaux's cell.  He knew Remy would be at the station at this time of day.  He kept his gaze locked on the hall outside the partially-ajar bedroom door.  The phone rang twice before Remy answered.

"New Orleans Police, Detective Lamoreaux."

"It's Ranger."

"Hey, Ranger, what's up?" 

"I need some information.  Can you check a police report for me, a missing person's case?" 

"Hang on, let me get something to write on."  Within seconds, Remy was back.  "What am I looking for?" 

"Girl's name is Savannah Sloane.  Friends call her Anna.  Just turned nineteen.   Freshman at LSU.  Visiting for Spring Break, and went missing the Saturday night before she was to return to Shreveport." 

"Damn, hate to hear that.  Okay, lemme see what I can find out and I'll call you back."  He hung up without another word, but Ranger knew he'd get on it immediately.  Remy Lamoreaux was the kind of friend you could depend on in a pinch.  A detective with the New Orleans Police Department, he'd worked homicide for a few years before deciding that gig wasn't for him and transferred over to vice.  The man knew everybody in and around New Orleans, and had the kinds of contacts Ranger couldn't even imagine.  A good man and honest cop, and someone he trusted with his life.  Remy would look into Anna's case file, and if anything looked hinky, he'd spot it in a heartbeat. 

He'd known Remy and his brother, Max, for as long as he could remember.  Hell, they'd always been a part of his life, and he wouldn't have it any other way.  Max was the older Lamoreaux, and he'd hung out with his brother, Jean-Luc, while he'd spent most of his time with Remy. 

At a noise from the hall, he looked up to see Sarah leaning against the doorjamb, two bottles of water in her hands.  She extended one toward him and he took it.  Her face was pale, with little lines of tension playing out around her eyes.  He couldn't imagine the kind of stress she and her family had endured.  If one of his brothers or his baby sister went missing…

"My friend's checking the missing person's report.  He'll call me once he's had a chance to look it over and talk to the officer who took the report." 

"I could have saved you the trouble.  It's all in the envelope I gave you."  He'd stuck the envelope in the back pocket of his jeans before they'd left the bar, planning on looking over the information when he got home.  Seeing things in black-and-white worked well most of the time, and he'd definitely go over all the info, but he'd rather hear it firsthand.  Sometimes people were easier to read than scribbled facts on a page. 

"Tell me more about your sister."  He patted the spot beside him on the bed, and she hesitated for a heartbeat before leaving the doorway and easing down beside him on the corner of the mattress, her body held rigidly upright. The scent of her skin with its light citrusy fragrance shot straight to his groin, and he took a deep breath.

Get your head out of your ass, idiot.  Focus on the facts.  Wolf needs you to work her case, not get in her pants.

"Anna is like a breath of fresh air.  Natural and free-spirited.  She's never met a stranger.  People open up when she's around, feel like they can tell her anything.  I've never seen anything like it.  Complete strangers, people who've never met her, within minutes are telling her their life stories."

Ranger knew the kind of person she described.  He'd lived with somebody exactly like that—his baby sister, Gabi.  His gut clenched at the thought of his sister in Anna's place and was swamped with feelings of hopelessness and helplessness. 

"Did you talk to her after she arrived in New Orleans?"

Sarah nodded while her fingers peeled at the label on the water bottle.  "She called Saturday afternoon, once they'd made it.  All the girls were excited.  Once they checked into their room, they'd planned on hitting Jackson Square and seeing some of the local artists, because one of the girls is an art major." 

He liked the way her eyes lit up when she talked about her sister.  The love she felt shone through with every word, every action.  He understood.  Though they'd never been all touchy-feely, he'd never felt unloved around his family.  Hell, his father still pulled them all together every time the boys were in New Orleans.  Though it happened less and less since they'd all joined the military.  Even Gabi wasn't around much anymore, away attending college.  If they were lucky, she'd make it home for a long weekend.  He made a mental reminder to give his sister a call and check on her in the morning. 

"Did Anna mention anything untoward happening?  Maybe notice somebody paying them a little too much attention?" 

Sarah sighed, her hands clasped around the water bottle until it made a crumpling sound.  "Not at first.  She was having fun, exploring the city and partying with her friends.  Although she's not legally old enough to drink, I'm sure they figured out how to get around the whole underage drinking thing.  Not that she's a big drinker or anything, but an occasional beer or glass of wine, sure."  She set the water bottle on the floor before standing, and paced a few steps away, toying with the end of her ponytail.  He remembered her doing that in the bar.  Probably a nervous habit, but he thought it was cute. 

"You said not at first.  What changed?" 

Before she could answer, his phone rang.  He picked it up from where he'd laid it beside him on the mattress and glanced at the caller ID.  "Gotta take this, it's Wolf."  His finger slid across the answer call button.  "Hey, man, what's up?"

"Did Sarah get there?" 

Ranger heard the
whomp, whomp, whomp
sound, the hollow noise instantly recognizable.  Helicopter rotors spinning.  The familiar backdrop of boots scrambling along concrete told him Wolf was at the base, though he wasn't sure if he was in Coronado or Virginia. 

"Yeah, she made it."  He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry at the sounds, so familiar, yet they dredged up a slew of memories and instincts that had his stomach cramping. 

Gunfire. 

Screams.

Blood.

He gave his head a rough shake, focusing instead on Wolf's voice. 

"Hear her out, buddy.  She needs help and I'm not going to be around to give it to her.  Got called up on an emergency evac; otherwise, I'd be there myself, watching her six." 

Ranger rubbed a hand against his forehead, shut his eyes and tried to block out everything except the sound of Wolf's voice.  The sounds in the background faded into white noise as he fought to bury the memories trying to trigger things he didn't want to think about.  Hell, he could almost feel the intense heat on the back of his neck as the burning sun blistered his skin.  Smell the fetid stench of the shelled-out hovel where his teammates lay in bloody heaps on the dirt floor.  Hear the flies buzzing around their motionless bodies. 

"Ranger, you still with me?"  Wolf's voice was raised, like he'd been shouting.  Damn, he'd zoned out—again. 

"I'm here." 

"I know you'll watch over Sarah.  She needs you, bro.  Not sure how long I'll be incommunicado, but the minute I'm back, I'll head for New Orleans." 

Ranger took a deep breath, and pushed past the memory trying to steal his focus.  "Don't worry, Wolf.  I've got it covered.  I'll keep your gal safe." 

Wolf laughed.  "She's not my gal.  She's a friend of Caroline's, and trust me, my wife will bust your balls if anything happens to Sarah." 

"Ah.  Got it."  He hadn't figured Wolf the type to cheat on his woman, but then again he didn't know the man that well.  Glad to know his instincts were still good, at least about the SEAL. 

"I've gotta run, we're outta here.  You need anything, call Tex.  I mean it, don't hesitate to call Tex.  He can track anything with those computers of his, and he's a good man to have watching your six."

"Will do."

The phone went dead and Ranger turned to look at Sarah, who stood beside the dresser.  "Finish your story." 

She huffed out a small breath.  "Right.  Anna mentioned a guy.  At first she thought he was part of the group of people celebrating Spring Break.  But it seemed like every place they went, she'd spot him.  She was flattered at first, but then it started to creep her out, so she tried to take his picture with her phone."

Ranger straightened at her words.  "She got a picture of the guy?" 

Reaching into the back pocket of her jeans, she pulled out her cellphone.  "It won't do you much good.  He's too far back and she only got part of his face and his shoulder."  She scrolled through several pictures before she handed him the phone. 

"Damn, you're right, there's not much to go on here."  He could make out dark sandy brown hair and a blue and green striped polo-type shirt, but the guy's features were indistinguishable.  He stood amidst a group of other men in front of a bar in the French Quarter. 

"Wolf sent the picture to Tex, but so far he hasn't been able to get much from it." 

"I know somebody who might be able to help with that."  Ranger knew Tex had some mad computer skills.  Among the SEAL elite, he was practically legendary.  Plus, he'd been instrumental in his team's extraction from Afghanistan.  But he personally knew Stefan Carlisle, one of the best computer guys in the free world.  Carlisle worked for Carpenter Security Services, and they'd recently relocated their corporate offices to New Orleans.  Fondly called
geek boy
by the company's inner circle, there wasn't anything Stefan Carlisle couldn't do with a computer, and he had tentacles throughout the dark web only a fellow hacker would understand.  He'd written the code for a facial recognition program the government was chomping at the bit to license, yet Carlisle refused to turn his baby over to the FBI or the CIA. 

Carpenter Security had recently utilized his facial recognition program to help capture a big time arms distributor and self-professed drug lord with only one photo, because Carlisle identified the building and location where the photo was taken with no other information.  Well, okay, maybe Ms. Willie helped a bit, but that was a whole other story. 

He'd check with Carlisle, e-mail him this pic from Sarah's phone, and put him in touch with Tex.  Let them coordinate, and together they might come up with an ID on Anna's mystery stalker.  Two computer geniuses should have no problem finding one girl in a city the size of New Orleans. 
Piece of cake
. 

His finger swept across the screen, looking at photos of different girls, all college-aged, pretty in that All-American schoolgirl way.  The phone was filled with smiling silly selfies, as they grinned for the camera.  But his hand froze when the last photo popped onto the screen.  His breath caught in his chest, his eyes locked on the grinning dark-haired girl filling the screen.  Laughing at the friend beside her, she smiled, her green eyes filled with joy and life.  His hand trembled slightly as it tightened on the phone until the plastic case creaked. 

Because he recognized her.  He'd never met her, at least not face-to-face, but he knew her.  Night after night for the past week, she'd haunted his dreams. 

Turning the phone outward, he showed the picture to Sarah.  "Is this your sister?"  The words were strangled, and he barely got them past his suddenly parched throat. 

"Yes, that's Anna." 

His gut tightened into knots and he felt bile rising in the back of his throat. 

Why couldn't I be wrong, just this once? 

Savannah Sloane, Sarah's missing sister, was the girl who haunted his dreams.  Abstract and disjointed, the dreams didn't make any sense, but the images in them stayed burned into his brain like a searing brand. 

How could he tell Sarah?  He'd learned years ago not to tell people about his dreams or visions, because they either didn't believe him or looked at him like he'd lost his mind.  The thought of seeing that look on her face wasn't something he ever wanted to see. 

But if he didn't tell her, when the truth came out… 

Hell, he didn't want to think about what might happen.  Looking at Sarah, seeing the fragile hope in her eyes, he didn't want to break her heart.