Trauma by Renee Lovins by Renee Lovins - Read Online

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Trauma - Renee Lovins

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Chapter One

Hey, Mike. You available for a job?

Well, I called you back.  That implies I’m at least open to the possibility.

Of all the things I’ve missed about you, Mike, your snark isn’t one of them.

Oh please, you know you’ve missed all of me.  I’m just that good, in bed and out.

Mike paused at the odd silence on the other end of the phone and then she heard a sigh.  Mike, I slept with you once, five years ago.  Obviously you weren’t that good, or I’d still be sleeping with you.

Jarrod, her voice echoed her amusement and the smile on her face. You’ve got a woman, and she’s listening to this call.  How wonderful.  Hi, I’m Michaela Samson, and I’m one of the best killers Jarrod knows.

A low laugh filtered down the line, and Mike lay back on the bed, more amused than anything.

Nice to meet you, Mike.  Jarrod mentioned you, but I think his comment was more along the lines of; sex - oh yeah I had sex with her. Don’t remember much about it. She had a husky voice, sounding as amused as Mike felt.

Burn! Mike crowed.  I like her, Jarrod.  You better keep her around.

I plan on it. Mike had to smile, his voice had laughter in it—something she hadn’t heard from him in a long time.  It sounded good.  So you interested in the job?

Mike tilted her head thinking. If you added in the fact that this woman obviously knew what he did for a living and either didn’t care or helped him, it made job interesting.

You know better than that, Jar-baby. She teased, curious to see if she would get a rise out of either of them.  I’ll listen to the spiel, but I won’t promise a damn thing more than that.

His voice changed, and she sat up straighter, that voice never meant anything good.

You still in the Middle East?

She glanced around the tiny room and shrugged.  Near enough. You never gave out specifics, besides Marrakesh was near enough. Here she at least felt comfortable being a white woman and could wear normal clothes outside. Marrakesh remained a tourist mecca, and she took advantage of that fact.

Four days ago a group of terrorists that captured a bunch of kids from one of the local international schools.  Most of the kids are foreign, and they let all the boys go, but they kept the girls.  Three of them are Americans.  One of which is the grand-daughter of a senator.  His daughter was in Egypt and brought her daughter along as a learning experience.  She was visiting the school when they struck. We don’t know if it was planned or not. This is the same group that posted their admiration for what Boko Haram did with those school girls. To say the Senator is in a panic, is a bit of a understatement.  He doesn’t care about the body count, just wants his granddaughter safe.


Weight dropped onto her shoulders. Jobs like this meant a lot of things, none of them fun, and giving up things she didn’t enjoy giving up.

I hate you.  There was no venom in her voice, but the comment had weight.

I’m sorry, Mike, but I didn’t know who else to ask.  I’d never get in without guns blazing, and the odds are they’d kill the kids first.  You at least have a chance to get in.

At a price.

Yeah.  I stressed that to the senator, he’ll pay ten mill if you get her out alive.

How old?


Mike cringed even more. He knows the odds are she’s already been raped, right?  She was probably raped in the first few hours to help break her.

He knows.  All he wants is her out alive.  He’ll have therapists and doctors standing by.

What about the others?

There was a long pause, and she tensed at what she knew was coming. I don’t know about any of the others.  If you can escape with more, do it, but your first priority is the girl.

Dammit, Jarrod.

I know.  I know.  I’ll do everything I can to get you help, but I don’t have anyone else nearby.  The closest person would take more than seventy-two hours to get ready and get there, and they’d have the same issue I would.  Intel says they took them to Tripoli. They’ve got a habit of grabbing women off the streets, so you should be able to get in that way if nothing else.

There are days I regret not being a blue eyed blond.

And this is one of the days I don’t regret your Lebanese heritage.  Please, Mike?  I want them all rescued, but you’re the only one they might not suspect.

She stood up, walking over to the dresser and started to pack.  I’ll do it.  I’ll need about fifty k for supplies.  I’ll send you my bank account.  Wire it in, I need it asap.  Send me the packet back to the email address I send the info from, that’s the last time it’ll be good.  Code word for success is Gretel, failure is Witch. When I’m ready for pick up I’ll send you the instructions and the words breadcrumb and the number to get out.  Come get me then.

Furious typing in the background as he recorded everything.  Got it.  It’ll be waiting for you.

Mike? The woman’s voice came over the line.  Get them out, but come home to us please?  We have a job and a place waiting for you.

Mike blinked at that comment, something warm flowing through her.  You don’t know me.

A low laugh rippled through the phones speaker. No, but Jarrod does. And he says you’re one of the best and he considers you his friend.  That makes you family.

Thanks, she didn’t bother to say good bye, just hung up, and pulled up the email account on her phone, emailing him her account number.  She made an appointment with her doctor, one of the few Americans practicing in Morocco, explaining she needed a full round of prophylactics for all STD’s and a shot to prevent pregnancy.

Five hours later she was on a plane to Tripoli and planning the infiltration of a terrorist group where maybe she might save some kids.

Chapter Two

Say that again?  David