A Viable Threat (Martin Billings, Book 4) by Ed Teja
About A Viable Threat:
They want to kill a Senator
Stopping it calls for running a hair-brained, off-the-books abduction, grabbing a Dutch national from a private island in The Bahamas. It doesn’t help that the senator whose life is in danger is Martin’s ex-wife, Polly. And then there is the minor detail that the intelligence for the mission, the idea of running it, was arranged by a US Navy Admiral who just happens to be Polly’s current husband. The presence of a hard-nosed (and very sexy) DEA agent with her own agenda, one who forced her way into the center of a mission she shouldn’t have even known about… well, it’s complicated.
But hey, it’s all part of a normal day in the life of an ex-SEAL who only wants to be an average freighter captain in the Caribbean — at least Martin would like to think so.
Excerpt:
Five of them arrived a little after midnight. They moved
quietly, approaching the hull of our boat slowly in two rubber dinghies powered
by electric motors. The gentle hum of the motors, the lapping of the water that
the dinghy shoved against Irreparable Harm's steel hull was soft—whisper
quiet. Barely audible.
In a noisier harbor they might have gotten away with it, but
the commercial harbor of St. Anne, tucked a bit out of the way in the lower
half of the Caribbean, wasn't a bustling seaport. A few ships sat at anchor in
the still night, and most people were either ashore or in bed.
That evening I had my hands full... of a lovely lady named
Gazele. When she wasn't snuggling with me in the shadows of the aft deck,
Gazele owned and operated several businesses on St. Anne. She was an
industrious lady.
Tonight, however, the business we were engaged in was
intensely personal.
With business slow at her bar/restaurant, The Barracuda,
she'd asked Sally Walker, her friend and waitress, to run things while she and
I came out to my ship. I'd been happy to provide the proper morale-boosting
activities, and we made the most of her unexpected evening off. Fortunately, at
the moment the uninvited visitors arrived, we were lying together on a mattress
in the dark. We'd been that way for a time, neither of saying anything, just
enjoying being close, touching each other, and watching the lights from the
city flickering on the surface of the water with the changing tide.
We were mellow and enjoying the quiet. Under those circumstances,
the soft, muffled thunk of padded grappling hooks hitting the railings on
either side of Irreparable Harm, catching right about midships, and very
near to us, provided plenty of warning. Someone trying so hard to be quiet sent
a sinister message.
Gazele and I looked at each other. “You got company,” she
mouthed.
I nodded.
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