Hit Me With Your Best Shot

By Cassiel Knight

Sidra will do whatever it takes to find her target. Even if it means pairing up with an operative who has more secrets than she does.

Sidra is tough, street-smart and independent. And she's living a double life. As an agent for Triad, she follows orders and gets the job done. But as Norah Rainwater's surrogate daughter, she'll do whatever it takes--even defy Triad--to find Norah's missing daughter and save Norah's life.

She plans for every eventuality. . .except Gideon, who lives a triple life beyond Sidra's wildest suspicions. Sidra knows him as a charming playboy more intent on conquering women than saving the world. But he's more than that. Under another identity, he fights to destroy the five men who lead the criminal organization called the Alliance--the same men who murdered his father for trying to leave the group.

With Norah near death, Sidra can't let anything get in her way. Not even Gideon, who reminds her so much of Ranger, the only man she has ever loved. But Gideon can't let Sidra reach her goal without crushing any chance he has of reaching his.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lyrical Press
• Release date: Feb 1, 2012
• ISBN: 9781616503543

Book preview

http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/

Oddly enough, I’d like to dedicate this book to screenwriter David Howard, for his inspirational line in the movie, Galaxy Quest: Never Give Up. Never Surrender. Whenever the publishing road gets bumpy, this line helps me push through.

Acknowledgements

To my editor, Carin Brumal, who did so much to make this story even better –thank you! And as always, to my husband, Steven, who handles the financial and emotional ups and downs in this crazy industry without running for the hills.

Chapter 1

Earth Year 2285

From behind a battered wooden crate smelling of moldy bread, Constable Sidra Elvenstri pressed her knuckles into the hard-packed dirt floor and scanned the interior of the warehouse until her gaze fell upon the reason she was there.

Jupiter’s moons, Section 10 got something right.

Considering their score was zero for five on useable intel, accuracy on this particular mission kicked ass. The warehouse did contain the expected goods. Goods that no matter how many times she had to see them, never failed to turn her stomach sour. Even now, bile rose to her throat.

The rusty metal cage hunched in the corner near the main door was packed with boys and girls of various ages, none of them over the age of twelve, on their way to new owners. Not parents. Owners.

Slavery, which despite having been outlawed for centuries, continued to be too lucrative to cease. The new world governments were quick to take a portion of the wealth. Another reason why the buying and selling of children continued. Who was going to go against the Black Dealers and the government to save children?

Her shoulders sagged. She did what she could when she could. Still, it was never enough. As she stared at the children, memories of the past tried to drown her in horror and loss. She was all too familiar with the children’s plight. It had been years since she’d escaped their fate, but that didn’t make the flashback any less painful when her mind drifted.

Shaking off the unwanted memories, she shifted her weight to her toes, wincing when the muscles in her calves tightened and locked. Feck, she didn’t think it had been that long between exercises.

Back to the mission. With her sonic-emitter constantly humming in her ear and her eyes scanning the warehouse interior, she sought proof she and the children were alone. There. The sonic chirped, indicating the presence of three drones. The robots, sentient at the basic level, were easy, and expendable, muscle. In an average situation and against an average person, they were formidable enough. Against her, a piece of cake. The old Earth saying fit well.

The sonic, after identifying the drones, went back to humming. So. No Dealers or their soldiers lurked about. Despite the sonic’s relative quiet and the lack of echoing voices, footsteps or other noise, she stayed alert. Silence didn’t mean the building was empty. The Dealers had been known to leave quiescent drones behind, ready to activate at a moment’s notice, and the sonic’s range was limited to active drones.

At least this warehouse wasn’t full of crates or boxes. This meant there weren’t many places a drone could hide. Unlucky for her, because there weren’t many places she could hide. Which was why she was reluctant to leave the dubious safety of the battered crate and slight comfort of the scent of spoiled yeast.

While patience wasn’t a virtue she possessed in any sort of quantity, neither was stupidity. It would be phenomenally stupid to venture out without knowing if there were drones in the area. She hadn’t survived over twenty missions by being thick-headed. Or careless.

Or relying solely on equipment.

Still. She glanced at the cage. Despite the limited light filtering through the cracks and holes in the ragged ceiling, it was bright enough for her to see the small forms shifting positions within their rusty confines. The low shuffling and murmurs whispering through the quiet warehouse told Sidra the children were alive. Obviously frightened, but at least physically unharmed. Mentally, well, that was something else entirely. Their miniature shadows flickered as they fidgeted within their confines.

The Dealers hadn’t even attempted to keep the children clean. Or clothed. Underneath shredded shirts and pants, cuts and bruises turned their skin mottled shades of red, blue and green. Some of the children talked quietly. Others stared out into the warehouse depths, their haunted expressions seeing only stars knew what.

A lump filled Sidra’s throat. No matter how often she saw children like this, torn or purchased from their parents, she couldn’t seem to power off the emotions. But she knew how to bury them deep. She took a deep breath, forced down the pain and focused.

Her mission parameters were clear. All she had to do was call in the confirmation and get the hell out of the way. The point team would then sweep the area, rescue the children and effectively halt Dealer operations out of this warehouse.

Oh, and they’d recover the priceless silk in the plasti-crates near the children’s cage. Yes, she’d clearly noted the black market trade she hadn’t been briefed about. And the silk, not the children, was the mission. She was sure about that. It wouldn’t be the first time Triad had sent her on a cover mission while a point team handled the real mission. Not because she couldn’t handle a black market recovery operation. She knew she was one of the best Constables Triad had. However, during her first, and coincidentally last, time she’d been sent on such a mission, the black market silk had somehow been, well, misplaced.

At the bottom of the Grand Canyon Sea.

In her defense, that hadn’t been her original intention, until she’d overheard two of the strike team members joking about what they’d do with the money they got from the sale of the recovered silk. When she’d…encouraged them to share what they knew, she had learned the silk would end up right where it would have in the first place: on the bodies of the rich and powerful. So, instead of the credits lining the Dealers’ pockets, it would line Triad’s.

She felt a smile pull at her lips. It had been a simple matter to dump the silk and claim the Dealers hadn’t wanted anyone else to have the rare material.

While no one actually spoke against her, she knew Triad leaders had their doubts. If they could have proven she had anything to do with their silk’s disappearance, her career as a Constable, and her life, would join the silk. At the bottom of the deepest body of water they could find.

Hence the children. Timely, convenient afterthoughts meant to distract her. But, she supposed, working for an organization that walked the line bordering protection of humanity and destroying humanity, those that did the dirty work couldn’t be concerned with a little thing like morals.

Whenever she questioned her own decision to stay with the organization, all she had to do was see the children, and then she remembered. Despite Triad’s less than savory pursuits, they had a lot of contacts and resources she would never have been able to gain on her own. And even if freeing children was not their main goal, they still did. She’d have never gotten so far without Triad. So, for now, she’d stay with them.

That didn’t mean she’d let the point team members, sociopaths every one of them, have responsibility for safeguarding innocents. In their psychotic zeal, they’d not worry if any children were harmed. After all, the children’s parents had sold them into slavery. They weren’t wanted and would only be a burden on the City-State. So, did it really matter what happened to the children?

Sidra’s lips twisted. It fecking mattered to her.

About to press the activation pad, she hesitated. This type of behavior, ignoring her orders to act as a scout only, earned her a lot of desk time. Def Logan, Triad Commander and second only to Triad’s senior executive Control, wanted her in solitary, and had threatened her with that if she stepped out of line again. This was just the excuse he needed. She had no doubt he would follow through with his threat.

At times, his hatred seemed to run neck and neck with his desire for her. A double-edged sword. Yet, she knew the hatred wasn’t just for her refusal to follow orders. Okay, most of it was. The other part, well, that was for the whole Control-likes-you-better-than-me issue. She’d been Control’s first choice for Commander. And when she’d turned it down, Def had been chosen. She was sure it didn’t help that everyone she worked with knew Control hadn’t chosen Def. He’d won by default. Difficult to accept under the best circumstances. For a man who believed women had only one purpose, the realization was impossible to swallow.

Her inability to keep her smart-ass comments to herself when he was around didn’t better their relationship. Def could foam at the mouth all he wanted. Threats aside, no way was she leaving the children at the mercy of the strike team.

Sidra noted the position of the drones then keyed the hologram switch on her wristband. She could easily handle the three, but why work up a sweat when she didn’t have to? After spinning the dial on the holo emitter fastened to her waist belt, she punched in a code on her wristband, hoping this latest invention worked as she was told it would.

Usually there was time to test Triad’s gadgets. Not for this mission. She’d barely had the chance to shower after the last assignment before leaving on this one. So, here she was, stuck with a new piece of equipment that might or might not work.

The hologram, a fairly recent tech toy from the Triad brain guys, projected a holo image across the gray interior of the storage bay. The drones froze for a moment, and then grabbed their weapons. The holo figure fired a few realistically fake shots, then turned and ran. Two of the drones followed while the third stayed near the cage.

She couldn’t blame them for their response. Even she had a hard time believing the other figure was only an image. Sidra shook her head. Hmm, two out of two. Another piece of equipment the Triad scientists developed actually worked as intended.

At least their record was higher than Intel.

She crept forward, her ninja-like slippers gliding silently over the concrete. The specially designed footwear provided stealth, protection and surface stability.

The drone guarding the cage craned his neck and peered into the semi-darkness where his partners had disappeared. She grinned. She really liked going up against androids.

Human-shaped, if not exactly human, the drones were constructed of metal, plastic and some sort of neural networking frame. Only possessing rudimentary skills, what they lacked in mental ability was a non-issue when in hand-to-hand combat. She loved being able to test her skills against drones. The android’s focus was so intense on what his teammates did, her presence went undetected.

Slipping into the shadows surrounding the cage and its whimpering occupants, she moved closer. She hated the damn Dealers with every atom of her body. These children belonged with someone who loved them, not stuck in a dirty holding facility waiting to become someone’s laborer or worse–someone’s sex