**Featuring JET from Russell Blake’s bestselling action-adventure thriller series and characters from Kim Cresswell’s action-packed Whitney Steel suspense series!**
After eliminating an al Qaeda terrorist cell and destroying a dirty bomb in Colombia destined for the United States, JET, Mossad’s former deadliest operative is hidden half around the world in Bangkok finally living the life she’s always wanted with her daughter, Hannah.
But when a Russian troll farm wreaks havoc by circulating rumors that Jet and her team killed the leader of the Sur del Calle cartel, unexpected enemies surface and a past adversary with a thirst for revenge hunts down the team vying for the big payoff—kill JET.
Available exclusively at Amazon (US site only)
Fans of 24, Quantico and Blindspot will enjoy this action-packed sequel to JET: OBLIVION.
READ CHAPTER ONE
Jet clutched Hannah’s hand, the four-year-old’s skin warm against hers, and steered through the mob of shoppers in Yaowarat, Bangkok’s two-hundred-year-old Chinatown district. In the distance, bells rang, the elegant donging evoking the gods and keeping the evil forces at bay, or so the locals believed.
As they strolled by one of the many street food stalls selling Pad Thai, boat noodles and suckling pig, the savory sweet smell of curry, cardamom and other delicate spices mingled around them.
Hannah pinched her nose. “Phew, Momma. Stinky.”
Jet smiled and wondered if her child would ever get used to the cultural differences, let alone the banquet of Thai food she refused to eat. Sweat pooled and trickled down between her shoulder blades, her skin slick with wetness under her army green tank-top. She glanced at her watch. It was one in the afternoon, the February heat unbearable, and it would only get worse as the day progressed. Dozens of pumpkin orange and gold-foiled paper lanterns hung above on wires and swayed and rustled in the stifling hot breeze, sounding like crumpled cellophane.
“Momma. Look!” Hannah’s big round eyes lit up, and she pointed to a towering pyramid-shaped display of fruit at one of the vendor stalls.
Jet eyed the apples and bananas, her daughter’s favorites. “Finally, we found something you will eat.”
Hannah pushed her tousled bangs out of her eyes and giggled.
After paying one hundred and sixty baht in coins for fruit for her daughter and dragon fruit for herself, Jet adjusted her black leather shoulder bag, ready to get out of the heat and go home. Hannah’s brown hair flopped in the wind as she skipped beside her, humming an unrecognizable song, oblivious to the heat or anything else.
They’d been living in a furnished, air-conditioned, two-bedroom condominium for the past three months after leaving the US following the catastrophic attack at the Diablo Canyon Nuclear Plant, the deadliest act of terrorism since 9/11. After the attack, Jet had helped destroy a dirty bomb in Colombia before the same terrorist cell working with the Sur del Calle cartel could transport the device into the States and detonate it. Their plan? To take out another nuclear facility. As if one strike wasn’t enough. The devastation would last for decades. Luckily, the bad guys had failed the second time around.
She hadn’t signed on for the mission, instead was blackmailed into “lending a hand”—if she didn’t want to see her daughter taken away and placed in a foster home. It all worked out in the end. The terrorists were dead, and the death toll had included some of the cartel’s major players. Another deadly situation defused. She wasn’t naive enough to think more attacks weren’t coming in the future, but for now, she felt safe in Bangkok, away from the fallout on the west coast.
She looked behind her and observed two muscular Asian men dressed in tight fitting black T-shirts and jeans strutting twenty yards behind her, their black hair glistening in the sunlight. It was their body language, the way they moved that caught her eye. With purpose and commitment.
The hairs on the back of her neck rose. They didn’t look like the type of men who wanted to have a friendly chit-chat.
This can’t happen now. Not when she was with her daughter.
Jet had seen it before. Too many times. Somehow, her past always found a way to catch up with her. She also knew it would be just a matter of time before others would show up. They always did. Concern swirled inside her. She didn’t know who the men were, but could only guess they were connected to one of her past assignments with Mossad, or someone else she had angered along the way. Jet wasn’t planning on sticking around to find out. She tightened her grip on Hannah’s hand and hastily weaved through the frenzy of shoppers and tourists, determined to lose her newly acquired followers.
“Too fast, Momma.”
“I know, baby.” Jet stopped and picked Hannah up, balancing the child on her hip before quickening her pace. “We need to hurry so you can have some bananas and juice.”
Hannah smiled and wrapped her arms around Jet’s neck.
Jet glanced over her shoulder. The men were still trailing them. She needed to lose them.
As she rushed through the dizzying maze of trinket, jewelry, and fabric vendors thronged with shoppers haggling over prices, Chinese signage in brilliant shades of pink, yellow and red creaked in the wind, the sound unnerving. She made a quick right, leaving the mob of bargain hunters behind, and jogged down a long narrow alley. She threw a final look over her shoulder. The two men closed in on her.
The familiar pop of a suppressed 9mm Glock sounded much like a firecracker going off.
The sound startled Hannah, and she began to cry.
Jet held her daughter tight and ducked. “It’s okay. Hang on, sweetie.”
A slug whistled past Jet’s head and thumped into a stack of broken wooden crates. She veered right and bolted. The soles of her leather sandals pounded the hot pavement.
Another pop. Then another.
She sprinted around a corner and spotted a large metal garbage bin ahead, outside the back door of a restaurant. Jet picked up her speed, determined to put some distance between her and her attackers.
A half a block later, her legs burned. Jet came to an abrupt stop, placed Hannah on the ground, and pulled her behind the bin. “I need you to stay right here.” She lowered her voice, almost to a whisper. “Stay very quiet, and don’t move even if you hear something really scary. Okay? Promise?”
Fear, confusion and tears filled her daughter’s eyes. She nodded slowly and crouched, resting her small hands on her knees.
A dog barked. Aggressive car horns honked, the sound coming from the main street.
“Momma will be right back.” Jet dropped her shoulder bag next to her daughter then ran back in the direction of her attackers. She flattened her body against one of the buildings and waited.
The men had guts, unloading their weapons in broad daylight, especially in such a busy tourist area surrounded by majestic religious temples. They even had more guts, thinking they could get away with scaring her daughter.
She swiped the sweat from her eyes. This was the last thing she wanted to do in front of Hannah, but there was no other option. She was sick of spending her life always looking over her shoulder because of her past with Mossad. It was like a large toxic cloud, dictating every decision in her life, and right now, protecting her daughter was first and foremost. Whoever these men were, they needed to be stopped.
Thudding footsteps approached.
Jet inhaled a deep breath and exhaled. Perspiration dripped from the tip of her pony-tail and slid down her back, chilling her body.
The first man crept past her, his Colt. 45 aimed and readied as he headed in the direction where Hannah was hidden. The second man was nowhere in sight.
Six long strides and her right foot struck the wall first. She sprinted up the side of the brick building, leapt into the air and side-kicked the gun from the man’s hand with such impact it broke his arm. The brutal force of the blow slammed him to the ground. He lay on his side, dazed for a long moment then clutched his fractured and useless appendage.
Jet grabbed his gun and stood in front of him with the barrel of the weapon trained at his head. Her breath came out in short, forceful rasps. “Who are you?”
The man’s features twisted with pain. He clenched his teeth and shook his head.
She could almost read the man’s mind by the look of surprise in the back of his eyes as he realized he’d just been taken down by a five-foot-four woman who weighed a little over a hundred pounds.
Jet jabbed the weapon into his forehead and held it there, a reminder she wasn’t playing games. “One last time. Who are you and who sent you?”
He stared at her with fierce dark eyes, as if calculating his next move. A small smile curled the corners of his mouth. He shook his head again.
She pressed the barrel into his skin hard enough to leave an indent. “If you move, you’re dead.”
A bullet hissed past her ear, too close for comfort.
Jet jumped out of the line of fire and observed the second man zig-zagging through the alley. He looked like an enforcer, overly ripped, his neck the size of his upper thigh. He stopped and ducked behind a discarded wooden door, the top of his large head visible enough for her to get off a clean shot. Then she heard her daughter’s gentle sobs. Her eyes instinctively snapped to the bin where Hannah was safely tucked away, out of harm’s way. The child was terrified. Hang on, baby. Just a few more minutes. Guilt flooded Jet’s body. This was not a situation she wanted her daughter to witness. Her heart squeezed.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement beside her. The man wasn’t going to stay down, apparently determined to fulfill a death wish. She would be more than happy to oblige if it meant keeping her daughter safe.
She whirled and confronted her assailant.
He bounced to his feet and lunged at her.
Her heart rate accelerated. Raw adrenaline shot through her veins, and she fired the weapon.
The bullet penetrated his left eye and bored into his brain, leaving the left side of his skull shattered. His body jerked then fell backwards. What was left of his head bounced like a rubber ball against the ground then finally lopped to one side while his hand lifelessly clung to his weapon.
Jet crouched next to the body and watched Enforcer-guy move closer, using whatever he could find tossed in the alley to help shield himself.
This time, she wasn’t asking questions first.
She stood and scrambled to the corner of the building, the handle of the Colt .45 gripped tight in her hand.
This needed to end as quickly and quietly as possible so she could get back to Hannah. The longer they were in the alley the more likely someone would stumble upon them and contact the authorities—trouble Jet didn’t want or need.
She poked her head around the corner. Sweat stung her eyes and slid down the sides of her face. She blinked.
A round buzzed past and drilled into something behind her with a hollow clunk.
Jet held her breath and stepped out from the corner with her gun ready.
The man decided to run to the other side of the alley, but didn’t get far. Her shot to the side of his neck stopped him dead in his tracks. Blood sprayed and showered down around him. He fell in a crumpled pile, his legs splayed crudely out around him as if broken.
Relieved it was over, Jet exhaled and tucked the Colt .45 in the back of the waistband of her shorts and covered it with her tank-top. She would have to make a brief stop at the apartment and grab her burner cell phones, their passports, her emergency stash of cash and the gun she’d purchased for twenty three hundred US dollars on the black market in Khlong Thom, where you could buy anything from fake passports to AK-47 rifles. It was a dangerous move to go to the apartment, but a necessary one. She also didn’t have anyone in Bangkok she could trust to look after her daughter, so checking into a hotel for now was her only option, at least until she could figure out who was after her.
After quickly searching both bodies and collecting two wallets, Jet ran back to Hannah. As she approached, her daughter’s sobs grew louder. The thought of Hannah upset made her feel even worse about what she had been forced to do. She stopped, and her eyes shifted to the ground. A thin stream of blood snaked out from behind the bin.
Jet’s heart stopped, and fear froze her limbs. “Hannah!”
Text copyright © 2015 by the Author.
This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Reprobatio Ltd.. All characters, scenes, events, plots, and related elements appearing in the original JET remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Reprobatio Ltd., or their affiliates or licensors. For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindlewords