Lock and Load

Lock and Load

by Desiree Holt

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Overview

A sniper and a reporter—can they face danger together?

Women are the best stress reliever for Delta Force sniper Beau Williams and variety is definitely the spice of his life—until he meets sexy, feisty sports reporter Megan Welles. The sparks between them are caused as much by the heated sexual attraction as by the force of their personalities. But the more time they spend together, the brighter the flame burns.

Megan is working on the story of a lifetime—the unexplained deaths of several aging athletes who had stellar years. They only realize how dangerous her hunt is when she receives threatening texts and an attempt is made to take her out of the game.

When everything explodes in a hostage situation, Beau and his Delta Force team leader save her, but Beau can’t deal with the way she put herself in jeopardy and she can’t handle what she sees as his controlling attitude. Can the Christmas season heal the breach between them?

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781786862648
Publisher: Totally Entwined Group
Publication date: 04/24/2018
Series: Strike Force , #2
Sold by: Barnes & Noble
Format: NOOK Book
Pages: 208
Sales rank: 902,559
File size: 873 KB

About the Author

A multi-published, award winning, Amazon and USA Today best-selling author, Desiree Holt has produced more than 200 titles and won many awards. She has received an EPIC E-Book Award, the Holt Medallion and many others including Author After Dark’s Author of the Year. She has been featured on CBS Sunday Morning and in The Village Voice, The Daily Beast, USA Today, The Wall Street Journal, The London Daily Mail. She lives in Florida with her cats who insist they help her write her books, and is addicted to football.

Read an Excerpt

Copyright © Desiree Holt 2018. All Rights Reserved, Totally Entwined Group Limited, T/A Totally Bound Publishing.

Come on, asshole, where are you? Show me your face so I can blow it the fuck away.

Beau Williams flexed the fingers of one hand, relieving the strain of holding them in one position for so long. They had been there for what seemed like hours, he and the other members of Delta Force Team Charlie, waiting for their high-value target to appear.

‘Take him out then get the hell out.’ That had been the order from their commanding office and it worked for Beau. If the murderous jerkoff would just get the fuck out of the tent where he was holed up.

He was disciplined enough to ignore the hard ground beneath him, the mountainous terrain and the unrelenting heat. When he’d been picked to join Charlie, one of the first things his teammates had told him was that Afghanistan was no picnic—it was considered one of the most forbidding battlegrounds in the history of war. It hadn’t taken him long to agree with that assessment. Bitter cold in the winter, hotter than an oven in the summer, there were few roads, water was scarce and only the hardiest of the hardy could survive the brutal environment.

They hit the nail on the head with that one.

But he and his teammates, led by Slade Donovan, were just such men, trained in every skill imaginable to fight in the war on terror. They were part of a unit in the legendary Delta Force—or 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment—which operated as part of JSOC—Joint Special Operations Command—in the on-going conflict with radical extremists around the world.

At the moment, the team was in the middle of yet another hair-raising mission in the Hindu Kush, an unforgiving mountain range that ran from Central Afghanistan to Pakistan. Almost a thousand miles long and two hundred miles wide, it ran northeast to southwest, most of it through Afghanistan, and divided the Amu Darya River Valley and the Indus River Valley. It stretched from the Pamir Plateau, near Gilgit, to Iran and had over two dozen summits of more than twenty-three thousand feet in height. Below the snowy peaks, the mountains of Hindu Kush appeared bare, stony and poor in vegetation. For centuries it had been referred to as the graveyard of foreign armies.

Beau could agree with that. This wasn’t the first time Delta Force Team Charlie had been on a mission in this soulless place, and he was pretty damn sure it wouldn’t be their last. They’d plotted and planned with as much care as they could, absorbing all the intel they’d received, but as many times as they’d been here, they knew planning could only take them so far.

Finding cover was difficult as always, but their recon man had spotted them a perfect place to sequester themselves until the target was visible. Good thing, since they’d been waiting two days and two nights. The one good thing about the endless wait, roasting by day and freezing by night, was the wind that had plagued them without end for most of that time had died down at last.

As the team’s sniper, Beau hated the wind. An errant one played hell with the accuracy of a sniper rifle, screwing with the trajectory. He’d been serving as a sniper for ten years and had learned how to compensate for nature, how to correct for almost anything up to gale force winds. But he liked it better when the air was still and his spotter could give him exact trajectory and coordinates. He’d still rather not have to worry about it. And up here in the Hindu Kush, the winds were very unpredictable.

Stretched out full length beside him was Trey McIntyre, the man who had been his spotter from the time he joined the team. By now, the two of them were so much in sync they almost had telepathic communication. Trey was motionless, staring through his field glasses at the small settlement below. It was little more than a collection of tents, with camels and donkeys staked out under a canvas ceiling. Their target was a tribal leader who had proven connections with a radical Muslim group and who made money stealing guns from the American military and selling them to other tribes.

Word had reached them that the man they were after would be visiting this outpost and would be more exposed than at any other time. This would be the optimum time to take him out before he could do any more damage. With their commander, they’d plotted the mission with great care, trying to cover every angle.

But damn it all, the fucker they were after was still holed up in one of the tents that made up the camp and hadn’t shown his face. Their four-man team had been dropped into place more than a mile away from where they now waited, the place where the helo would pick them up when their mission was completed. Getting more than one team in there—even a full team of their own—would be impractical. The more people who were dropped into a hot spot, the greater the chance of discovery. Lean and mean, as Slade always said.

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