Excerpt~
It was full-on rush
hour by the time Elizabeth reached the city, so she crossed Starbucks off her
list, although she sorely needed caffeine. Even without the call-out, she’d had
a bad night. Most of it had been spent curled on her sofa, flipping channels
and determinedly avoiding CNN as she downed chamomile tea, which was supposedly
a natural sleep aid. After weeks of drinking the stuff, she’d discovered it
worked great when accompanied by Ambien.
She pulled into the
bunker-like parking garage and found a space. Flipping down the vanity mirror,
she checked for any telltale signs of fogginess. Her eyes were bloodshot, her
skin sallow. She smoothed her ponytail and fluffed her new bangs. She’d had
them cut a few months ago in an effort to hide her scar, but she wasn’t crazy
about the look. A little too schoolgirl, which wasn’t helpful. As a five-four
blonde, she already had enough trouble getting people to take her seriously.
She flipped up the
mirror, disgusted. She had more important things to worry about today than her
appearance. Such as her boss’s reaction when he heard about the murder of her
newly recruited informant.
Elizabeth’s stomach
tightened with nerves as she walked into the office and rode up the elevator.
The doors slid open. She made her way toward her cubicle and saw Maxwell
talking to a pair of agents outside his office. He’d probably heard by now.
Would he dress her down at the staff meeting or call her into his office
beforehand?
He spotted her, and
the grim look on his face told her he’d received the news. Elizabeth changed
course, bracing herself for a blast of criticism as she approached.
“Sir,
I need to talk to you about—”
“Save it. You’ve
got a visitor.” He tipped his head toward one of the men standing nearby.
“Hello, Elizabeth.”
She blinked at him,
taken aback. “Gordon. What—”
“Feel free to use
my office,” Maxwell told him, then gave her a sharp nod. “We’ll talk later.”
Gordon watched her,
his look unreadable. He was based in Washington, but if he’d spent the morning
on an airplane, you’d never know it from his immaculate suit and shiny
wingtips. Agents who worked for him sometimes called him “Wall Street,” and she
hadn’t figured out whether it was because of his clothes or because his
all-business demeanor reminded them of Gordon Gecko.
He gestured toward
the empty office. “After you.”
Polite as always.
She stepped inside and felt a chill down her spine as the door thudded shut.
She glanced through the window into the bullpen and caught the baffled looks of
her coworkers, who were obviously wondering why the Bureau’s newly promoted
assistant director of counterterrorism wanted to see her.
Gordon tucked his
hands into his pockets and stepped past Maxwell’s desk. He had an athletic
build, good posture. His salt-and-pepper hair was trimmed short, as she
remembered it. Despite the demands of his job, he took care of himself.
He turned to look at her. “How have you been?”
She started to say
“Fine” but remembered something else she’d learned about him a year ago. He was
a human lie detector.
“Busy,” she said.
He lifted an
eyebrow, then turned to study Maxwell’s ego wall, which featured his Princeton
diplomas, along with several framed photos of him rubbing elbows with VIPs: the
FBI director, a few senators, the Texas governor.
“Have you been
following the news out of Afghanistan?”
She cleared her
throat. “You mean the hostages?”
“Yes.”
“The newspaper said
they were rescued by NATO forces.”
The paper hadn’t
specified what type of forces. But since meeting a SEAL team last summer,
Elizabeth had been paying close attention and had learned to read between the
lines. A team of commandos storming a compound and plucking civilians from the
hands of Taliban insurgents? The mission had SEAL written all over it.
“Many of the
details weren’t made public.” Gordon turned to face her. “The team that
conducted the raid recovered some interesting info during their SSE sweep.”
SSE. She racked her
brain.
“Sensitive site
exploitation,” he provided.
“You mean
computers?”
“A laptop, a thumb
drive. The information there was surprisingly minimal, but they also collected
a cache of papers, including several detailed maps of Houston.”
Houston. Not D.C.,
not New York, but Houston, Texas. Elizabeth’s palms felt sweaty and she tucked
them into her pockets. “What’s in Houston?”
He smiled slightly.
“You mean besides six million people? Three major sports venues, a
world-renowned medical center, a Christian megachurch.” He sat on the edge of
Maxwell’s desk. “Not to mention the corporate headquarters of some of the
world’s largest energy companies.”
She clamped her
mouth shut. Maybe she’d look less ignorant if she let him talk.
“It was a take-no-prisoners
raid,” he continued. “However, when the commandos saw this cache of intel, they
grabbed a young man who’d been subdued, hoping some of our CIA guys could
persuade him to talk.”
“Did they?”
His mouth
tightened. “He’s no longer cooperating.”
What did that mean,
exactly?
“And unfortunately,
after poring through all the intel, our analysts believe the terrorists
planning the attack were not in the compound when the raid went down. As far as
we know, they’re still at large.” He paused and watched her. “Homeland
Security’s staffed up a joint task force to investigate this potential plot and
interrupt it.”
Elizabeth’s mind
was reeling. She’d admired Gordon since the day she’d met him, both as an
investigator and as a leader. The thought of working with him again made her
giddy and nervous and terrified all at the same time.
He stepped closer
and gazed down at her.
“Your SAC says you
had a rough spring. He thinks you’re not up for this assignment.”
Anger welled in her
chest.
“If you join my
team, I need to know that you’re one hundred percent. Are you?”
“One hundred and
ten. Sir.”
He held her gaze,
the human lie detector. Her heart thudded so loudly she could hear it. Time
seemed to stretch out. He glanced at his watch. “Be at San Antonio
International Airport in two hours. Pack light.”
Relief flooded her.
“We’re going to Houston?”
“California. Naval
Amphibious Base Coronado, to be precise.” He crossed the room and reached for
the door. “We need to interview some SEALs.”
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Review ~
While this is book 8 in the Tracers series, you can read it as a stand alone! I know, I did it! Now I have to go back and read the first 7 books :)
I really enjoyed the mixing of different groups (FBI and military). Beyond Limits keeps you on the edge of your seat with it's fast paced suspenseful plot, a bit of sexy romance added for great measure. I'm really glad I took a chance on this book and look forward to more fast paced, well written romantic suspense stories in the future!
Sarah
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