Countdown America

By M.C. Fox

"…a new political cyberespionage novel with a fierce female protagonist who also happens to be a single mom, providing a thrilling and relevant read that is also an inspiration to women everywhere." – The Review Wire

Still grieving the loss of her husband, CIA Agent Isabella Bendel is excited about her promotion to Chief Supervisor. It will finally take her out of the field and allow her to spend more time with her young twins. However, the promotion put a giant target on her back and it's clear someone wants her out of the way. When an attempted hit goes wrong followed by the kidnapping of her children and mother, Isabella's world is completely shaken and she's not sure who she can trust. With the full resources of the CIA looking for her family, Isabella must keep her calm and piece together a puzzle which points towards a Russian attack on the US. Time's running out and Isabella must save her family and stop those hell-bent on destroying the United States before it's too late.

• Language: English
• Publisher: M.C. Fox
• Release date: Feb 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9798201091101

Book preview

Prologue

Isabella put her finger up to her earpiece.

How many? she asked.

Two, Vanessa’s voice sounded in her ear. No, wait, shoot. Three. Sorry, they’re moving in a tight formation. It confused the infrared.

Isabella looked over at Suzanne and Jason. The three of them had been through quite a lot together in the fifteen months they’d been assigned to the same missions, but tonight was different. A senator’s life was at stake. A senator who, if rumors were to be believed, was most likely going to receive his party’s nomination in the coming year. And considering how popular he was, that meant he was very likely going to be the next president of the United States. That meant one thing to Isabella.

All their training had led to this moment.

How close? Suzanne asked, barely audible.

Ten feet, Vanessa said.

Isabella stood flat against the wall and made sure her silencer was fastened tightly to her P226 Scorpion pistol. With three enemies about to round the corner they were currently hiding behind, there was the potential for a lot of noise. And noise meant being discovered. They would have to take them out immediately if they had any hope of securing the objective.

Five feet, Vanessa said.

Isabella felt her pulse suddenly quicken as her body flushed with adrenaline.

Four feet. Three feet. Two. One.

Isabella shouted, Now!

As one, they sprang around the corner. Isabella jammed the silencer directly into the neck of the closest man and pulled the trigger. In her peripheral vision, she saw Suzanne and Jason do the same to the other two.

It was all a matter of a few seconds before they stood in front of three dead bodies.

Let’s move, Jason said.

They raced down the hall, Jason and Suzanne in the lead. Isabella touched her earpiece again.

Anyone else coming? she asked.

I don’t think so . . . um . . .

Hearing the hesitation in their guide’s voice, Isabella reached forward and grabbed both Suzanne and Jason by the necks of their uniforms, pulling them back right before they passed an open door.

Someone’s in the room you’re about to pass! From his vantage point, he might be able to see you, Vanessa said.

Suzanne turned to Isabella and gave her the thumbs-up. Good instincts, she whispered.

Jason said nothing.

Vanessa, give us something, Isabella said.

He’s moving away from you toward another room . . . he’s slow, kind of moving haphazardly, but . . . okay, he’s gone!

They quickly moved past the doorway.

According to the intel, Vanessa continued, Senator Matthews is being held in the room down the hall and to your left.

Copy, Jason said. He sprinted forward, moving ahead of Isabella and Suzanne.

Jason! Isabella hissed. She silently cursed his arrogance. He wanted the glory of being the one to get to Matthews first. Being credited with saving a potential president looked mighty good on a résumé, and Jason was nothing if not ambitious.

Slow down! she said. We don’t know what we’re going to find!

Jason ignored her as he reached the door.

Isabella looked at the handle, and suddenly all her training about high-profile hostage situations rushed back into her head in one horrifying flash.

Jason, no! The handle might be—

The explosion cut her off and sent Jason flying back in her and Suzanne’s direction.

Shit! Suzanne cried. They immediately rushed to Jason’s side. He was alive, but what had once been his hand was now a bloody, mangled mass of flesh. Isabella reached down to Jason’s belt and undid the clasp, pulled it off him, and tied it tight around his wrist, creating a makeshift tourniquet just above the injury. Suzanne, meanwhile, unholstered the knife attached to her hip, cut off a piece of his sleeve, and then wrapped it over what was left of his hand.

Jason cried out and bit down on his lip, moaning indecipherable swear words.

Isabella looked up at where the door had exploded. There was a small room beyond it. Empty.

She got up and darted in just to be sure. The senator wasn’t in there.

No sign of Matthews, she said. And everyone in a five-mile radius definitely just heard that explosion. We’re going to have company.

What happened? Vanessa asked in their ears.

Jason’s injured, Suzanne reported. Explosive device on the door. And the intel was bad. Matthews isn’t here.

It was confirmed, Vanessa said. Her voice was desperate. If bad intel had slipped through her screening, that would be the end of her professionally.

Isabella gritted her teeth. Something didn’t make sense.

Vanessa, she said, the senator. He was military, right?

She heard Vanessa furiously typing over the earpiece.

Yes, she said after a few seconds. Former Navy Seal.

In the ransom video the terrorists released, wasn’t he injured?

Yeah, it looked like he’d been shot in the leg. He was bandaged up.

Isabella looked up at Suzanne. A Seal would be able to escape that room, especially given the distraction—

But the booby trap—

—was rigged to go off from the outside. He could override the lock from the inside without setting it off.

Suzanne’s eyes widened in understanding. And if he’s injured—

—he’ll be moving slow.

The hostile in the other room we passed . . . it might be Matthews.

Vanessa spoke up, fear edging her voice. Agent Bendel, there’s no way to corroborate that. It could be—

It’s him, Isabella said to Suzanne.

How do you know? Vanessa said.

I just do.

Suzanne nodded to Isabella. Works for me. Let’s get him.

Are you out of your minds? Jason wheezed, wincing with every syllable. His face had gone as pale as death.

I’m making the call, Isabella said. She grabbed the front of Jason’s bulletproof vest and hauled him to his feet. We’re doing this.

Agent Bendel, protocol says if the objective is not where intel places him, we abort and await further orders, Vanessa said.

We’re not aborting, Suzanne said sharply. She looked at Isabella. Okay, boss. Lead the way.

Isabella took a deep breath. If she was wrong, this meant her career was over—and possibly her life and the lives of Jason and Suzanne.

She tucked away the uncertainty in a small compartment in her mind and took point, leading Suzanne, who supported Jason on her shoulder. She retraced their steps back toward the room they had passed.

Vanessa, is the person still in there? she asked.

Affirmative.

Isabella got to the edge of the doorframe, steeled her nerve, and entered, gun at the ready. Senator Matthews? she called out. If it was a hostile, she’d just put an enormous target right on her forehead.

A small, hoarse voice responded. Yes! Yes, I’m here!

Isabella rushed to where the voice was coming from. Matthews was hiding behind a large system of pipes. He was a man of about fifty, lean and muscular, but he’d seen better days. There were multiple lacerations on his face and neck, and the wound on his leg, wrapped in a filthy rag, was most likely infected.

But he was alive. And he was more or less mobile. Isabella called that a win.

She reached down to him, and he clasped her hand, hoisting himself up. Thank God you came, he said.

Let’s save that for once we’re out of here, sir, she said.

Incoming! Suzanne called out. She unholstered her sidearm and began firing shots into the hall.

We’ve got to get out of here, Isabella said to the Senator. Is there a back way out of this room?

Yes, through the door there. But my leg’s given out. I’ll only slow you down. You go, miss. Get yourselves to safety.

"Wow, you really are a Seal, she said. But I don’t think so. How much do you weigh?"

What?

Your weight. What is it?

Around 165. Why?

I’ve squatted heavier. On good days, she said. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him to her. She bent her knees, brought her shoulder to his stomach, and lifted him off the floor, groaning with the effort. His body folded over her. He felt like a lot more than 165.

No way I’m not going to feel this tomorrow, she thought.

You can’t carry me the whole way, Matthews protested.

Just got to get you outside, sir, she said.

Let’s go! she then called to Suzanne and headed for the door that Matthews had indicated, ignoring the sound of gunfire behind her. Suzanne covered their exit with her own fire, and Jason, still clutching his maimed hand, managed to batter the door open. Within minutes, they escaped into the night.

* * *

Three hours later, Isabella entered the debriefing room to make her report to her immediate supervisor, Senior Special Agent Howard Carson. He was clearly ready to call it a night, based on the degree to which he’d loosened his tie. But theirs had been the kind of mission that requires a lot of paperwork.

Well, you’ve certainly had an eventful night, Agent Bendel, Carson said.

Isabella smirked. Carson was an ass, but there was something about him she liked.

Not as eventful as yours, I’m sure, sir. I heard the traffic getting here was an absolute nightmare.

Carson chuckled. He was looking through the notes he had taken when he’d debriefed Suzanne and Jason immediately before her. Isabella wondered as to Jason’s version of the events, and if he included rushing to the door despite her objection.

Obviously, we should start with Agent Fisher’s injury. Needless to say, he’ll be out of field duty for the rest of his life. He was a good agent. This is quite a loss for us.

Agreed, sir, Isabella said.

However, both Agent Fisher and Agent Laughlin gave pretty much the same story. That he took point without authorization and despite your warning.

Jason admitted that?

He did.

That was big of him. Yes, that’s what happened. I just thought he might spin the events to make him look a little better.

Well, maybe losing your dominant hand gives you a sense of perspective.

Isabella nodded. I’d imagine so, sir.

Agent Laughlin, of course, gave a report that was nothing less than stellar regarding your leadership of this mission.

Suzanne’s a damn good agent, sir. I trust her with my life.

She feels the same way. That’s the kind of cohesion I like to see in my teams. He shuffled some papers, then looked up at her. His face was stern. We do, of course, have to go over the fact that you completely ignored protocol when you discovered Matthews wasn’t where he was supposed to be.

Isabella exhaled. She knew this was coming. That’s correct, sir. I did.

Despite the fact that Operative Smith reminded you of this?

Isabella cursed silently. She’d forgotten in the heat of the moment that Vanessa had, in fact, said those words, making her violation particularly egregious.

Yes, sir, she said.

You do understand, Agent Bendel, that these protocols are put in place for the protection of not only the objectives but also you and your fellow agents?

I knew it had to be Matthews in the other room, sir.

That’s not what I asked.

Isabella lowered her gaze. Yes, sir. I understand the reasons for the protocols.

But you chose to ignore them based on . . . what, exactly? He looked down at his papers. A hunch, I’m told?

Yes, sir. It was a hunch.

Carson nodded and for a painfully long moment fell silent. Isabella wondered what sanction he would use against her. It was possible she’d just thrown her career right in the toilet.

Carson rose and walked around the desk toward her. He sat down on the desk and extended his hand to her.

Uncertainly, she took his hand and shook it.

Congratulations, Agent Bendel, he said. Your hunch not only kept you and your team alive, it also saved the life of a US senator. Now I’m not particularly fond of endorsing anyone going against regulations, because that can lead to sloppy work. But it would be untrue to say your instincts proved anything less than the most valuable asset on that mission. Keep listening to them.

Isabella sighed in relief. I will, sir.

But, of course, if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll haul your ass into Guantanamo and throw away the key.

She rose. I wouldn’t put it past you, sir.

You’ve got a bright future with the CIA, Agent Bendel. I look forward to seeing where your career takes you.

Ten years later . . .

Chapter 1

Isabella squinted as the morning sun shone through her blinds. She sighed, knowing it would be time to get up soon. Another night of too little sleep. But then, sleep wasn’t something that came often or easily to her. Not anymore.

She had woken up at some point in the night when it was still pitch-black outside, and as they often did, her thoughts drifted to that night she saved the man currently known as President Matthews. The night Jason lost his hand. At the time, Jason had seemed to her like just one more dumb, overeager agent who thought he was Bruce Willis in the Die Hard movies, always running toward danger without thinking first.

But in the end, he proved her wrong. She never would have imagined how admirably he would pick himself up, dust himself off, and reinvent his career, becoming a gifted CIA analyst. She also never would have imagined learning to trust him as much as she did, or how highly she came to value his counsel. And she most certainly never would have imagined growing so close to him over the following years, the late nights working together where he made her laugh like no one else, or feeling the tears on her face when he got down on one knee and opened a box with his prosthetic hand, revealing a diamond ring that sparkled like his eyes when he smiled.

Life seemed to move so fast then, rushing and spinning like a roller coaster, and all she could do was hold on. The wedding, with Suzanne as her maid of honor. The honeymoon in Hawaii. The day she learned she was pregnant, and how Jason held her and wouldn’t let go but just kept saying over and over again how excited he was to be a father. He talked all about relearning to throw a football with his new hand so he could teach that skill to their son or daughter, and how that made Isabella love him all the more, which hadn’t seemed possible.

At work, she received promotion after promotion, which took her away from active field duty. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Her career was taking off.

And then, the birth of their twins. The happiest moment she had ever known. It seemed life was an endless bounty of blessings, and as she and Jason looked down at their son and daughter, he wrapped his arm around her, and she reveled in this cocoon of love they had created for themselves.

And then, just like that, Jason’s appointment with the doctor. The diagnosis of pancreatic cancer. Being told that it could only be treated if they’d caught it early, which they had not. Sitting in that sterile doctor’s office, that awful place, while a bald man in a white coat explained without the vaguest hint of emotion that, in no uncertain terms, Jason was going to die, and he was going to die soon.

That wasn’t what was supposed to happen. Not to him. He was the love of her life. He was her super-strong G.I. Joe action hero husband. He deserved a long life and a heroic end, like out of the movies. But there were no explosions or fights to the death with terrorist masterminds. Instead, he just wasted away before her eyes for six months, and then he was gone.

Isabella squeezed her eyes tight and felt the tears leak out, searing hot on her cheeks. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This wasn’t the plan.

She heard the sounds of cabinets opening in the kitchen and knew her mother, Valerie, must be making breakfast downstairs. She had moved in shortly after Jason died when the twins were still in diapers, providing help that was sorely needed at the time. Isabella could handle things now that the twins were six, but she liked having her mother there, and Valerie delighted in getting to see her daughter and grandchildren so much. The arrangement worked well for both of them.

The door to her room opened, and two little bodies raced in, giggling.

Mommy, are you awake? Janie asked as she and her brother, Jimmy, crawled up on either side of Isabella.

Yep, I’m awake, honey, Isabella said, wiping her face with her hands.

Are you crying? Jimmy asked.

No, my eyes water in the morning sometimes because of my allergies.

Do I have allergies? Janie asked.

No, you’re as healthy as a horse, Isabella said, and they all reared their heads back and naayyy-ed together. The twins erupted into laughter.

Okay, guys, why don’t you head downstairs and see what Grammie’s making for breakfast, okay? Mommy needs to get ready for work.

I’m gonna get downstairs first! Janie said, taking off like a rocket.

No, you’re not! Jimmy said, and he leaped off the bed in pursuit.

Don’t run down the stairs! Isabella called after them. She listened to the sound of their feet on the steps, wondering how bodies so light could sound like elephants stomping around the house.

She leaned back on the pillow, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. A cleansing breath, like she had learned to do in yoga, to center herself. Then she took a shower, brushed her teeth, and got dressed. By the time she put her shoes on, the aroma of bacon had reached her bedroom.

She came down the stairs and found Valerie humming to herself while dancing about the kitchen cooking eggs in one pan and bacon in another. She kissed her mom on the cheek and looked over at the twins, who were both seated at the table with their faces buried in their tablets.

Guys, I said no iPads when we’re at the table, she reminded them.

They’re not iPads, Jimmy said.

They’re from Samsung, Janie said.

I don’t care who makes them. Put them away.

Both twins let out exasperated sighs at the exact same time.

I swear, they share a brain, Isabella whispered to Valerie.

We heard you! the twins said in unison.

Valerie chuckled, then did a double take when she looked at her daughter for the first time that morning. Well, look at you, Miss Chief Supervisor! Is that Michael Kors?

Isabella looked down at her simple black pants and jacket.

Are we doing that thing where you give me tons of validation before I leave in the morning? ’Cause it was nice in high school, but now it seems a little sad on my part.

Valerie moved the bacon from the pan to a paper towel. I’m allowed to give my daughter a compliment, she said as she washed her hands. And for what it’s worth, I’m so proud of you. Chief supervisor at the CIA. When I worked for the agency, the idea of a woman that high up was completely unheard of. And now look at you.

Isabella smiled. Thanks, Mom.

Valerie lowered her voice and leaned in closer. And have you had the talk with John?

Is John coming over? Janie asked from the table. They overheard everything.

Yeah, we like him! Jimmy said.

Yeah! Janie said. He plays video games with us and lets us beat him.

Isabella sighed. No, guys, John’s not coming over. I don’t think John will be coming over much anymore, actually.

As one, they let out a disappointed awww.

Isabella grabbed two pieces of bacon and the to-go cup of coffee her mother had already poured for her. I’ve got to run, she said. Love you.

You’re not going to stay for breakfast? Valerie asked.

I’d rather just get this over with. She walked to the table and kissed both of the twins. Love you guys, she said. Then she waved to them and was out the door.

Chapter 2

Isabella was on autopilot as she drove to her office, the events of the last few months rolling over and over in her mind. She had been so heartbroken after Jason’s death, and so busy raising the twins, the idea of dating wasn’t even remotely on her radar. But three months ago, after working with John Beck for over a year, he’d surprised her by asking her out to dinner. At first she had refused, but when she discussed it with her mother, Valerie had told her that Jason wouldn’t want her to stop living. And besides, Valerie added, I’d say six years is a long enough mourning period and then some. Going out with him doesn’t mean you love Jason any less. Call that man and tell him you’ve reconsidered.

And that’s exactly what Isabella had done.

John was charming and funny, and their time working together had already gifted them with a verbal shorthand to communicate with. Their relationship happened easily and naturally, and Isabella started to think there really was a future there. But then she had been promoted to chief supervisor of the Cyberterrorism Unit, making her his boss.

The last thing she wanted to do was end the first relationship she’d had in six years. But she couldn’t afford to be tied up in knots about this, not with all the new responsibilities she had on her plate. And besides, John knew this was coming. So she followed her strict espionage training on how to compartmentalize her psyche. She took all her reluctance over breaking up with John and put it in a tiny box in her mind, and then she closed that box and tucked it away in a dark corner.

There, she told herself. That easy.

Yeah,