Chapter Two

  Mission Briefing

  The briefing room fell instantly into heavy silence. A few seconds later, the door opened and Chief Lynden, carrying a black briefcase in his right hand, stepped inside. He was short, slightly stocky, with precisely combed black hair and a face fixed in permanent seriousness. Nobody at CBH had ever heard him laugh. They never heard him crack a joke. Most couldn’t even remember if they’d ever seen him smile.

  Lynden circled the table and placed his briefcase at the far end, just beneath the wall-mounted screen. With routine precision, he opened it, withdrew a small flash drive and inserted it into the USB hub on the bottom of the screen. A quick adjustment of the channel brought the company’s logo into sharp view—a black background with the CBH emblem glowing at the center.

  He turned to face his assembled hunters. “Welcome, gentlemen,” he said flatly, then glanced once at Haley. “And Haley.”

  There was a murmur of greetings—varied and half-muted, making it hard to distinguish one from another. Haley notably stayed silent.

  “Some of you may already know that we received several new bounty heads yesterday,” he continued, emotionless. “Unfortunately, you all will be sitting those out.”

  The group let out a collective groan.

  “Do not fret,” Lynden said curtly, noting the reaction. “You are not being sidelined. We simply need all of you for a different mission.”

  He took his seat between Haley and Phil, removed a remote control from his briefcase, and aimed it at the wall screen.

  With one press of the button, the CBH logo shrank and dropped into the lower corner, replaced by a clean black frame. A male voice began speaking through the wall speakers: “Certified Bounty Hunters, mission log two-seven-zero.”

  A series of images began scrolling from right to left—surveillance footage, grainy security captures. All were of the same person. Haley leaned in slightly, noting the blurred quality—until the final photo appeared: a crisp digital image, up close and clear.

  “Case profile one-six-three-five-two-two-four,” the voice continued. “Target identified as Bradley Ray Anders. Reward offered—ten million, U.S.”

  The other images vanished, leaving the final photo lingering on-screen, now accompanied by plain-text data detailing the subject’s name and bounty.

  Lynden spun his chair toward the group again, resting the remote on the table. “As you know, we usually assign one hunter per target. But this case is different. Whatever Anders did has the authorities breathing fire. They’ve requested a team—yours—to ensure the fugitive’s capture.”

  He paused, scanning the room. “You six are the best we have. This is a high-priority target, and I trust you will not let CBH down.”

  Bo shifted in his seat. “What’s our time frame?”

  “You’ll fly out tomorrow morning at seven. Meet here as usual. Anders is believed to be hiding in London. You’ll have four days to bring him in for processing.”

  Haley swept her hair behind her ear, a simple motion that was common to her, instinctive. Lynden’s eyes tracked her fingers as they passed her cheek. She didn’t notice.

  “What has he done for such a high price tag,” she asked sincerely and with a hint of concern.

  Lynden rose and walked slowly behind her chair, posture tall, expression unreadable.

  “I don’t have that information,” he said. “This is a black book operation. Strictly need-to-know. Even I’ve been kept in the dark.”

  As he spoke, his hand settled casually—too casually—onto Haley’s shoulder.

  She tensed instantly.

  Her fingers slipped upward, ready to remove it, but before she could, the grip tightened. Not painfully. Just enough to make her chest coil and her throat lock.

  “What about…” James began—but Lynden cut him off with a single lifted hand.

  “You’ll be equipped with .45s and M-16s for this mission,” he said, voice clipped. “They are shipping out late tonight and will be on the ground in London tomorrow before you. You will need to retrieve them.”

  James grinned wide, cracking up instantly. The rest of the crew followed suit in laughter.

  Except Haley.

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  And Lynden.

  Haley’s eyes never left Lynden’s hand. But when the conversation shifted, he finally turned away from her and returned to his seat.

  James was practically vibrating now. Everyone knew he treated armory access like a kid treated a candy store. Bo had once joked James could make a bullet ricochet off Jupiter and still hit his mark.

  Lynden continued: “The target must be returned alive. No bounty will be paid otherwise.”

  “What’s our timeline,” asked Bo.

  “You have four days from the second your wheels touch the tarmac in London to confirm capture,” Lynden answered. When CBH got involved in a hunt, they were given strict operational timelines. If they failed to retrieve the subject in time, the bounty would go public. This is the reason CBH has such a reputation. No deadline in at least thirty years has been missed.

  He stood and gathered his briefcase. “Report to the armory and prep. Dismissed.”

  The team stood and made their way to the door. Lynden hesitated—then called out.

  “Hold on,” he said quickly. “Almost forgot these.”

  From his briefcase, he removed a stack of pamphlets—standard mission packets—and passed them out one by one. He kept Haley’s until the very last. That came as no surprise.

  He waited until the others were gone. Then he tucked her packet behind his back and turned to face her.

  Haley’s stomach knotted. She didn’t want to be left alone with him. Her professional respect had never extended beyond surface politeness—but now? That line was ash. She could see it in his eyes.

  He closed the door behind Tony, who’d been the last to leave.

  “I know about you,” he said.

  Haley didn’t reply.

  “I know you’ve been trying to avoid me,” he added, stepping closer. “Probably because I intimidate you. Or maybe because your boyfriend was the jealous type.” He paused for dramatic effect before adding smugly, “Oops. You don’t have a boyfriend anymore. You kicked him out this morning.”

  Haley’s heart started to race. She hadn’t told anybody about what had happened. Lynden couldn’t know. He—couldn’t.

  “How do you know about that?” she asked, voice low and sharp.

  “I know things,” he smiled. “Let me buy you dinner tonight.”

  “Can I please just have my dossier,” Haley snapped, “so I can prep for the assignment.”

  Lynden didn’t move. “Why the hurry? Why don’t you just stay with me for a while? Let’s have a talk.”

  “No, Chief,” she answered immediately.

  “Oh, come on,” he pushed. “Stop living in the past. Look ahead. Let me take care of you.”

  “And what about your wife and kid?” Haley shot back. “Or do they not get a say?”

  “They’ll be fine. I’ve just lost feelings for her. Which you can understand...after what happened this morning.”

  Haley stepped back. Her hand was clenched. Her jaw was tight. “I don’t know how you know so much about me, but I’m not going to get with you. Not now. Not ever.”

  “You misunderstand what I’m offering,” Lynden said. “I could give you the world. All you have to do is say yes.”

  “I told you no!” Haley barked. “Now give me my pamphlet.”

  Lynden extended the packet. The moment she reached for it, he made his move. He grabbed her wrist and yanked her forward, planting his lips on hers—rough, hungry, uninvited.

  Haley fought against him. She shoved him back hard, and broke free.

  “Fuck it!” she spat. “I don’t need the goddamned thing.”

  She bolted toward the door, but Lynden lunged, cutting her off.

  “I love you,” he hissed. “You’ll see—you will feel the same.”

  Haley tried to push past him, but his hand latched onto her forearm.

  “Let go of me!” she shouted.

  When he didn’t, she slammed him back into the door and struck him across the cheek—her fingernails carving angry red streaks across his face.

  Blood started seeping out immediately. Lynden staggered sideways. And reached up to clutch his face, which stung.

  Haley grabbed the handle, pulled it open, and tried to run, but she didn’t get out in time. He dove after her, catching her by the ankle, dragging her off balance, but she didn’t completely fall.

  After regaining her balance, she twisted and kicked to no avail. Finally, she forced her foot backwards, driving her heel right against the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t hard enough to break it, but hard enough to knock him on his ass. This gave her just the opening she needed to flee, and she ran.

  His voice chased her down the hall:

  “Haley! BITCH!”

  An hour later, Haley met up with her team at an off-site training facility. Her male counterparts didn’t know why she requested the location change, but they didn’t question it.

  They could tell something was off.

  Haley’s focus was scattered. Her shots were sloppy. Her timing was off in chase drills. Each teammate approached her at some point, asking gently if something was wrong. She dodged the questions with vague excuses—just nerves, she said. But they knew her too well.

  Finally, after enough pressure, she cracked. Sort of. She confessed that her disastrous break up had her nerves on edge. Nothing more. She purposefully did not give any acknowledgement to Lynden. She wasn’t going to give him satisfaction. He’d gotten to her for sure, but she was going to be stronger. Speaking up about it meant that he’d won, at least in her mind.

  Bo was the first to speak as he crouched down in front of her, placing his hand on her shoulder. “That little bastard. He’s lucky I wasn’t around.”

  “I know you loved him,” Bo said softly. “But you’re strong. You’re sharp. And one day, someone will come along who treats you like you deserve. Until then—we’re your guys. You need us? We’ll be there.”

  The others nodded.

  Haley blinked past the emotion—but nodded too. She had always appreciated how they treated her—not like an object, but as a genuine partner. One of the crew. A hunter with steel in her bones and loyalty in her smile. She wasn’t just a woman. She was an equal.

  Eventually, they resumed training. And slowly, Haley snapped back into form.

  She beat James in a shootout against fast-moving targets—the first time anyone had ever done that.

  “Holy shit, James, I think you’ve been falling behind on your training,” Tony yelled with excitement. “Haley whipped your ass.”

  Haley smirked, flushed with quiet pride as laughter bubbled around her. Even James couldn’t help but grin.

  He stepped beside her, shaking his head. “Haley, remind me to shut the fuck up if I ever piss you off. I don’t want to end up like our poor wooden friends over there.”

  The cackling escalated. Even Bo doubled over with laughter, his usual stoicism cracked wide by the absurdity of seeing James dethroned.

  Haley relaxed, absorbing the moment—not just the win, but the camaraderie. For a few precious minutes, the ghosts of Lynden, of Joe, of every creeping doubt felt like they’d been scrubbed from her pulse.

  She was back.

  And no matter what the next four days had waiting for them in London, she knew one thing for sure—these men had her back. And Bradley Anders, wherever he was hiding, wouldn’t stay hidden for long.