Rogue Mission (A Troy Stark Thriller—Book #4)

By Jack Mars

“Thriller writing at its best. Thriller enthusiasts who relish the precise execution of an international thriller, but who seek the psychological depth and believability of a protagonist who simultaneously fields professional and personal life challenges, will find this a gripping story that's hard to put down.”
--Midwest Book Review, Diane Donovan (regarding Any Means Necessary)

“One of the best thrillers I have read this year. The plot is intelligent and will keep you hooked from the beginning. The author did a superb job creating a set of characters who are fully developed and very much enjoyable. I can hardly wait for the sequel.”
--Books and Movie Reviews, Roberto Mattos (re Any Means Necessary)

From #1 bestselling and USA Today bestselling author Jack Mars, author of the critically-acclaimed Luke Stone and Agent Zero series (with over 5,000 five-star reviews), comes an explosive new, action-packed thriller series that takes readers on a wild-ride across Europe, America, and the world.

After elite Navy Seal Troy Stark is forced into retirement for his dubious respect for authority, his work in stopping a major terrorist threat to New York is noticed. Invited to join a secretive new international terrorist-fighting organization, Troy must hunt down all threats to the U.S. that originate from overseas—and pre-empt them by any means possible.

In ROGUE MISSION (Book #4), an isolated sex trafficking case leads Troy to a vast, underground network of organized crime in Europe. Hundreds of women, it seems, are being trafficked, and used to fund terrorist organizations. In this high octane action thriller, Troy must uncover a vast web of crime, protected at the highest levels, and take on his most complex enemy yet.

An unputdownable action thriller with heart-pounding suspense and unforeseen twists, ROGUE MISSION is the fourth novel in an exhilarating new series by a #1 bestselling author that will have you fall in love with a brand new action hero—and turn pages late into the night.

ROGUE SHOT (Book #5) is now also available.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jack Mars
• Release date: Aug 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9781094395692

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R O G U E   M I S S I O N

(A TROY STARK THRILLER—BOOK 4)

J A C K   M A R S

Jack Mars

Jack Mars is the USA Today bestselling author of the LUKE STONE thriller series, which includes seven books. He is also the author of the new FORGING OF LUKE STONE prequel series, comprising six books; of the AGENT ZERO spy thriller series, comprising twelve books; of the TROY STARK thriller series, comprising five books; and of the SPY GAME thriller series, comprising six books.

Jack loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit www.Jackmarsauthor.com to join the email list, receive a free book, receive free giveaways, connect on Facebook and Twitter, and stay in touch!

Copyright © 2023 by Jack Mars. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Jacket image Copyright Carlos Caetano, used under license from Shutterstock.com.

BOOKS BY JACK MARS

THE SPY GAME

TARGET ONE (Book #1)

TARGET TWO (Book #2)

TARGET THREE (Book #3)

TARGET FOUR (Book #4)

TARGET FIVE (Book #5)

TARGET SIX (Book #6)

TROY STARK THRILLER SERIES

ROGUE FORCE (Book #1)

ROGUE COMMAND (Book #2)

ROGUE TARGET (Book #3)

ROGUE MISSION (Book #4)

ROGUE SHOT (Book #5)

LUKE STONE THRILLER SERIES

ANY MEANS NECESSARY (Book #1)

OATH OF OFFICE (Book #2)

SITUATION ROOM (Book #3)

OPPOSE ANY FOE (Book #4)

PRESIDENT ELECT (Book #5)

OUR SACRED HONOR (Book #6)

HOUSE DIVIDED (Book #7)

FORGING OF LUKE STONE PREQUEL SERIES

PRIMARY TARGET (Book #1)

PRIMARY COMMAND (Book #2)

PRIMARY THREAT (Book #3)

PRIMARY GLORY (Book #4)

PRIMARY VALOR (Book #5)

PRIMARY DUTY (Book #6)

AN AGENT ZERO SPY THRILLER SERIES

AGENT ZERO (Book #1)

TARGET ZERO (Book #2)

HUNTING ZERO (Book #3)

TRAPPING ZERO (Book #4)

FILE ZERO (Book #5)

RECALL ZERO (Book #6)

ASSASSIN ZERO (Book #7)

DECOY ZERO (Book #8)

CHASING ZERO (Book #9)

VENGEANCE ZERO (Book #10)

ZERO ZERO (Book #11)

ABSOLUTE ZERO (Book #12)

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER ONE

January 6

2:35 p.m. Greenwich Mean Time

Hornsey Wood Reservoir

Beneath Finsbury Park

London, England

Brandon! Wait! Wait a minute!

Amy Hegel was deep under the ground, following her date.

Chasing him, in fact.

Come on! he shouted, his voice echoing crazily back through the dark tunnels. Every tunnel in every direction looked the same, soaring brick archways marching into the distance, fetid brown or maybe green standing water in the runoff drains to her right and below her feet. She clung to the greasy walls. Her headlamp cast eerie shadows. Anywhere she didn’t direct her light immediately disappeared into black nothingness.

Isn’t it amazing? Brandon said.

Amazing… amazing… amazing…

Brandon! she shouted, but now her voice was closer to a shriek of panic.

She couldn’t see him anymore. He had still been a shadow a moment ago, and now he was completely gone. This was insane. What was he doing? Nothing had prepared her for this to happen.

She was here in London for a month, a winter study session between semesters. They called it an intersession. They called it the J-Term. But everybody knew what it really was. It was a go to a different country, meet foreigners and party term. That was all.

Do your parents know that’s what it is? They’re paying for it, right?

They must have known. They went to college once.

She just thought it might be nice to meet someone while she was here. She was single, she was young, she was an American in London, and the study session work wasn’t too demanding so far. In fact, it was easy. Four credits she didn’t need in something called London: History, Art and Culture. The syllabus described a bunch of trips to museums and landmarks like Buckingham Palace, Big Ben and the London Bridge.

Graduation and the start of grown-up life was four months away. Why not have some fun in the meantime?

Why not?

BRANDON!

She was screaming now. She recognized that.

She stopped. Okay.

She took a deep breath.

Okay.

Amy knew she shouldn’t have followed him down here, but her curiosity had gotten the best of her. More than curiosity. It was excitement. She had met him on an online dating app, and he was almost too good to be true. Tall, a little over six feet, with dark hair and a square jaw. He looked like an actor, or maybe a rock star. On the app, he called himself North End Brandon.

He asked her out and she agreed. Something easy, no pressure, a place where they could sit and chat and decide if they wanted to meet up again. He suggested they go for tea. He gave her an address near Piccadilly Circus. When she looked it up, it was the Hotel Cafe Royal. It was high tea, and the prices were outrageous.

She texted him. 

I’m a student. I can’t afford this place.

A moment later, she got the reply. Oh, don’t worry. I can.

The dining room was so opulent, it took her breath away. The ceilings were gold, and ornate, with figure paintings like the Sistine Chapel. There were crystal chandeliers. There were white tablecloths. She felt like she had been whisked back to a previous time and place. She kept coming to the idea that it was like 1920s Paris, although she had no idea why she thought that. There was a live piano player tinkling softly in the background.

The service was impeccable and the smiling African waiter, Jon, demonstrated a huge amount of knowledge about teas and treated them to his personal tea pairing for the afternoon food courses. Amy followed Jon’s directions and ordered what he suggested.

Brandon ordered an espresso.

Amy nearly laughed. Brandon was dressed in a suit jacket, white dress shirt, and dark skinny dress pants. He wore leather shoes that were brightly polished. He had a pair of bright blue sunglasses perched on top of his head.

Espresso? she said. After all that?

He shrugged. I prefer espresso. I’m not much of a tea drinker, to be honest. I just thought you might like high tea. It’s something different.

Now she did laugh. I like it. I definitely like it. She scrutinized him. He was so handsome in person, it was almost funny all by itself. His real-life presence put his online photos to shame.

Now tell me, North End Brandon. Who are you really? Who spends two hundred pounds to have tea—and in your case espresso—with a woman he never met before?

He looked directly into her eyes and tilted his head. He hesitated, as if debating whether to tell her the truth or not. He pursed his lips.

You’re very pretty, he said.

She felt herself blushing. Thank you. So are you.

He smiled. My name is Brandon Ozdemir. Don’t worry about the name. There won’t be a quiz, but it’s Turkish. My parents came from Istanbul. I grew up mostly here in London, but I’ve lived in a bunch of places.

That’s why you have no accent, Amy said.

He nodded. I have the accent from everywhere and nowhere. My dad was a trader, and we moved around a lot.

What did he trade?

Now Brandon almost seemed to blush. Things. Things that other people will pay money for. Buy low, sell high. That kind of thing.

Amy nodded. Ah. Very mysterious. With a hint of danger. Is that the dating game you’re playing?

He shook his head. Now he seemed almost sad that she would think that. No. I’ll give you an example. It’s a famous family story. Before I was born, the Soviet Union collapsed. My dad went to Poland and lived there for a year. People in Russia had no money. So they began to sell things they had that might have some value. In the heartland, they had Christian religious icons. People lived in the same houses for centuries. Some of these icons were hundreds of years old. A few were a thousand years old.

Icons? Amy said. Not even sure what that is.

Oh, they’re these small paintings of saints, or the Virgin Mary with the baby Jesus, or Christ on the cross. They’ve got the halos over their heads. You’ve seen this kind of thing. Anyway, my dad set up shop in a hotel room in Warsaw. Russian and Ukrainian middlemen were buying these things and smuggling them into Poland. The ruble had become worthless, and the people were desperate, so the price was practically nothing. My dad, who had been selling carpets up until then, was now buying religious icons, which he sold later to collectors. He made his first small fortune like that, on the backs of Russians who had just lost everything. They’d lost their future, and now they were giving away their past for pennies to the pound.

Amy stared at Brandon. Now he seemed sheepish, almost ashamed. His eyes darted this way and that. Jon came with the tea, and the espresso, and mini finger sandwiches, and pastries. The pastries were beautiful to look at. Each one was like a little work of art. All the food was displayed on a sort of golden revolving tower.

Is it bad? Brandon said, after Jon left. Did I say too much?

She shook her head. No. It’s fine. Where is your father now? Is he alive?

Brandon smiled again. The sadness seemed to evaporate in an instant. Oh, he’s alive, all right. He had to go away for a little while. He’ll be back out again in a couple of years. Nothing he didn’t deserve.

Was the tea good? It was the best tea she ever had. Jon told her to let it steep a while longer, so she did. It turned a dark orange in color, and it was so tart that it seemed to dehydrate her tongue in seconds. She didn’t put any sugar in it. She wanted to taste the tartness in all its glory. The sweetness of the pastries contrasted with the tea caused a sensation that was… almost impossible to describe. She would write a paper about it for her class, but she was at a loss for words.

When the meal was over, Brandon said, So, do you want to do it again sometime?

Amy nodded and smiled. She didn’t know what to believe about the stories Brandon was telling. But the high tea was special, and his company was very fun. Of course. I’d like that.

Well, I have two tickets to the Arsenal match at Emirates Stadium tomorrow evening.

She stared at him.

Arsenal, he said. Arsenal? It’s a football team, what you would call a soccer team. If you want to see the real London, you need to go to a football match.

Are the tickets expensive?

He shook his head. Don’t worry. If you haven’t guessed by now, I’m very well-to-do. He snapped his fingers. We’ll go to the match. It’s at five p.m. But we’ll do something a little more modest beforehand. It won’t cost much at all. There’s a lovely park not far from the stadium. It’s called Finsbury Park. It’s been there since the Victorian era. We can have a picnic in the park.

I love it, Amy said.

You bring the picnic, and I’ll pay for the football match. How does that sound?

Amy nodded. She could easily do that much. Terrific.

And I’ll take you on a little adventure while we’re at the park. When I was a kid, I used to love to explore what you might call hidden London. Maybe it was a little bit of my father in me. There’s something hidden in the park that you won’t believe. It’s amazing, probably one of my favorite spots in the whole city. If you go there with me, you’ll never forget it. That’s all I can say about it for now.

Amy smiled. A picnic, an adventure, and then a soccer game. How can I say no to all that?  

Brandon covered his ears. Ouch. Please don’t say that. It hurts.

Amy frowned. For a split second, she thought he was serious.

Say what?

Soccer game, he said, and then laughed.

She laughed, too.

It was early, but it felt like the start of something exciting.

They had the picnic, and it was fun. Not as incredible as high tea, but this was supposed to be the modest part. The adventure and the football match were still to come. The park was pretty, a lot of open grassland and a couple of small ponds. The picnic was crackers, cheese, and grapes. Amy had also brought along a couple of small boxes of red wine.

The wine went to her head a bit, but it was okay. When they finished, he took her back into a copse of trees along the edge of the park. He had a backpack with him. He brought out an iron bar. There was an old manhole cover half-disguised by dirt. He brushed it off, inserted one end of the iron bar into a hole in the cover, and pried it up.

There was a deep, dark hole at their feet. She could just make out the metal rungs at the top of a ladder going down into total blackness.

It’s an old underwater reservoir dating from the 1800s. They drained the water out. Now it’s just an open tunnel network. I’ll bet you’ve never seen anything like it.

Brandon pulled two headlamps with straps from his bag. He handed one to Amy and fastened the other one around his own head.

Ready?

She looked at it.

I don’t know.

He smiled. He seemed delighted. Frightened?

She nodded. Yeah. Is it safe?

I’ve been down there twenty times.

Does that answer my question? Amy said.

You only live once, Brandon said. He turned his headlamp on and started down the ladder without her. His light was already dim when she heard his voice from somewhere below her.

Coming? he shouted.

This is crazy, Amy, she muttered to herself. This is stupid.

But down the ladder she went.

Now, she stood alone in the deep darkness under the park. She regretted her decision to come on this date with a stranger who had led her to this labyrinth of tunnels beneath the city. But she couldn’t turn back now. She didn’t know how to get back out of here.

She had to catch up with him. She quickened her pace, her heart pounding in her chest. Then she heard a sound—a faint scraping noise coming from one of the tunnels to her left. She turned toward the sound, her headlamp illuminating the way.

As she watched the tunnel, a figure emerged from the shadows. It was a man—not Brandon, but someone else entirely. He was tall and muscular, with a rugged beard and piercing dark eyes. He wore a black T-shirt and jeans, and his arms were covered in tattoos.

He smirked at her, his eyes scanning her up and down. Well, well, well. What do we have here?  His voice was low and gravelly. It had a hint of an accent—Amy guessed Eastern Europe.

She instinctively took a step back, her heart racing faster. Uh, I’m just looking for someone, she said, trying to maintain her composure.

The man chuckled. Aren’t we all, sweetheart? he said, taking a step closer to her. It looks like you found him. But down here, you might find more than what you’re looking for.

Amy’s headlamp caught the glint of rings on the man’s fingers. His hands were huge. She turned to run, but he grabbed her by the arm, pulling her back toward him. She could feel his hot breath on her neck.

Where are you going? he said, pressing one hand against her throat.

Amy’s mind raced. She knew she couldn’t fight him. He was too strong. But then she remembered something from her self-defense classes. She didn’t have to fight him. All she had to do was get away.

In one swift movement, she twisted her body and threw her elbow into the man’s ribs. He grunted, more surprise than pain, loosening his grip on her. She spun and kneed him hard between his legs.

Ohhhh, he said, and smiled. A dirty player.

But now he had released her entirely.

Amy darted backwards and away from him, running back the way she had come. She stumbled along over the slippery brickwork, her light shining this way and that. A rat skittered across her feet, and she screamed. She plunged on.

The man was cursing behind her, but she didn’t dare look back. She moved as fast as she could, her heart pounding in her chest and her headlamp illuminating the way. Suddenly, she saw a figure up ahead—tall, thin… Brandon.

His headlamp shone brightly. It was so bright, it almost blinded her.

Amy, over here! he shouted. What are you doing?

Relief washed over her as she ran toward him. Her legs burned with exertion. She tripped over a lip in the brickwork and nearly fell face first into the shallow water. She could hear her own breathing. It sounded like she was gasping for air. Even her breath echoed down here.

She felt cold from the dampness. It was the kind of cold that seeped into your bones. She wore a light jacket and jeans. She wasn’t dressed for this. She noticed she was all sweaty, making everything worse. She started to shiver.

Brandon stood, eyes wide. His mouth was open. He seemed like he didn’t understand what was going on. Was he really this thick? He had basically abandoned her down here. She saw now that he was holding a brick, ready to defend himself if necessary. Some of the bricks in the walls were loose. He must have pulled one.

Are you okay? he said.

He dropped the brick into the water. It fell with a loud splash.

Amy shook her head. No, I’m not okay. Are you crazy? You’re going to need that brick. There’s someone down here with us.

Brandon smiled. Why are you whispering? Lots of people come down here.

She felt like she was talking a mile a minute. She needed to slow down, so that he could understand her. It’s a man. He’s big. He tried to choke me. I just got away from him. He’s right behind me. We have to go back to the surface NOW.

Brandon shook his head. I’m sorry. I’m afraid we can’t do that.

What do you mean we can’t do that? Are you listening to me?

Amy’s voice was rising in panic.

Brandon’s smile faded. I mean, we’re not going back up to the surface right away. Not until I get what I came down here for. His eyes glittered in the light of the headlamps.

Amy felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. She had been so foolish to come down here with this man—she had met him yesterday.

She spoke slowly. It almost seemed as if someone else was talking. What did you come down here for?

Brandon took a step closer to her. Now his eyes flashed with a dangerous glint. They didn’t seem real somehow. I came down here for you, he said, his voice low. Don’t you know that?

Amy stumbled back in horror, her heart racing faster. She had to get away from this man, but she was trapped deep beneath the ground. She looked around frantically, searching for a way out.

Then she heard a sound coming from one of the tunnels, and her heart seemed to stop. It was the same scraping noise she had heard earlier.

The big man reappeared out of the darkness. He was much bigger than Brandon. He loomed there like Frankenstein’s monster.

Brandon gestured at him with his chin. That’s my friend. He came down to meet us here. His real name would be hard for you to pronounce. You can just call him Mikey.

The girl kicked me, Mikey said. I don’t like that.

She has spirit, Brandon said. I knew that right away when I met her.

Mikey shrugged. I don’t like spirit. I like obedience.

Amy took a step back from the two of them. A feeling of dread washed over her. This was the worst situation she had ever been in. It was a nightmare. It was a Stranger Danger cautionary tale from grade school, and she had fallen right into it.

What kind of sick game is this? she said, her voice shaking. Her whole body was trembling. She would try to run, but it was no use. She had no idea where to go. The tunnels were confusing. She was utterly lost.

It’s not a game, Brandon said. It’s just business.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial filled with a clear liquid.

What is that? Amy said, eyeing the vial warily.

Brandon held up the vial. It’s a new drug, he said, his voice calm, even benign. It’s a wonderful drug. It will make you feel things you’ve never felt before. It calms you and gives you an intense feeling of euphoria. You probably need that right now, don’t you?

Amy stared at him. The dread she felt deepened. There was no escape—she was trapped deep beneath