Reclaiming Izabel (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) Read online

  Reclaiming Izabel (Special Forces: Operation Alpha)

  Victoria Paige

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Connect with the Author

  Also by Victoria Paige

  More Special Forces: Operation Alpha World Books

  Books by Susan Stoker

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to Susan Stoker for allowing authors to write in her world. You are a great inspiration to writers everywhere—creating memorable characters and the world they live in and being so generous as to share them with us.

  Big thanks to my editor Kristan Roetker. Because of the time crunch I was in, you had to wear several hats in all stages of the manuscript. Your edits and feedback, as usual, are phenomenal.

  I wouldn’t be able to do justice to the characters and their tricky situation without insights from a diverse team of betas: Lynn, Victoria Colotta of VMC Art & Design, and Ms. D, with special mention to Geri, who likes to torture my heroes.

  Lots of love to my Alpha Team Bar members, readers and bloggers everywhere. Without your continued support, this endeavor wouldn’t be possible.

  Finally, thank you to the support of my patient hubby who makes sure there’s always food on the table and clean clothes to wear. These are little things but so essential to an author’s life. Love all that you do!

  Cover Design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc.

  Edited by Kristan Roetker, edit LLC

  Photographer: R+M Photography

  Model: Connor Smith

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  © 2018 ACES PRESS, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this work may be used, stored, reproduced or transmitted without written permission from the publisher except for brief quotations for review purposes as permitted by law.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book 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, please purchase your own copy.

  Cover Design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc.

  Edited by Kristan Roetker, edit LLC

  Photographer: R+M Photography

  Model: Connor Smith

  Dear Readers,

  Welcome to the Special Forces: Operation Alpha Fan-Fiction world!

  If you are new to this amazing world, in a nutshell the author wrote a story using one or more of my characters in it. Sometimes that character has a major role in the story, and other times they are only mentioned briefly. This is perfectly legal and allowable because they are going through Aces Press to publish the story.

  This book is entirely the work of the author who wrote it. While I might have assisted with brainstorming and other ideas about which of my characters to use, I didn’t have any part in the process or writing or editing the story.

  I’m proud and excited that so many authors loved my characters enough that they wanted to write them into their own story. Thank you for supporting them, and me!

  READ ON!

  Xoxo

  Susan Stoker

  About this book

  Three years ago Izabel Maddox lost the love of her life.

  Not long after, a cruel twist of fate ripped away the last part she had of him.

  Grief and devastating loss almost broke her, but she survived.

  Focusing on building her childhood dream was her lifeline.

  But just when she thought her heart could move on, her past came barreling back, making her question if the struggles of the past were all for nothing.

  Three years ago Drake Maddox made the toughest decision of his life.

  To protect his wife and avenge his brothers, the Navy SEAL faked his death.

  Injuries and the loss of his team marked his soul, but it was losing Izabel and their unborn child that nearly broke him.

  Focusing all his time and skills on finding the enemy was his lifeline.

  Returning to his wife had always been his dream, but reclaiming Izabel might prove to be his ultimate nightmare.

  Because his wife may never forgive him for betraying their vows.

  Chapter 1

  The smell of antiseptic hit him first. He blinked his eyes open, but everything was so fuzzy he could only make out the acoustic tiles on the ceiling. His gaze wandered, and an IV line came into view.

  Monitors beeped.

  A hospital.

  He couldn’t feel the lower half of his body and he began to panic. The dull roar of pain was familiar. He’d been pumped full of pain killers.

  His breaths came quick and shallow.

  The monitor beat spiked.

  Drake Maddox was in a nightmare.

  A woman in green scrubs rushed in, scrutinized his face, before leaning over him.

  “Where am I?” he rasped.

  She didn’t answer.

  “Where the fuck am I?” he repeated more forcefully.

  Then horror came rushing in.

  The firefight.

  The retreat into the caves.

  The blast.

  His team incinerated right in front of him.

  No.

  Dead. All his men were dead.

  A roar, a bellow of anguish.

  Pain in his chest.

  A pinprick on his arm.

  Oblivion.

  When Drake next came to, a man with close-cropped blond hair was leaning against the wall beside his bed. Tall, muscular, with strong, angular features and ice blue eyes Drake would recognize anywhere.

  The eyes of a killer.

  “Viktor?” he croaked. “What are you doing here? Where am I?”

  “Where you are is not important,” Viktor replied.

  “Fuck you …” Drake swallowed, his throat was parched. “Tell me …fuck …”

  Each breath was excruciating.

  “Your back’s broken. Your right leg is fractured in three places. Right hand is a mess. I could go on … hopefully, you’re not half-blind. If so, you’re useless to me.”

  What. The. Fuck.

  “Start making sense—”

  “If you’d stop interrupting—”

  “My team …”

  A flicker of sympathy flashed through Viktor’s face. “Dead.”

  “My commander …”

  The last thing Drake remembered was shielding Commander Harrelson when they realized all their attackers wore suicide vests.

  “He’s the lone survivor,” Viktor acknowledged. “Both of you were lucky to be caught in an air pocket among the rubble. He’s on his way back to the U.S.” He paused. “Although he’d prefer it if he’d died.”

  Drake’s eyes narrowed.

  “We just received word that his wife and sons were killed
in a car accident.”

  Foreboding settled in his gut and, even under the influence of pain killers, his brain refused to believe in coincidences.

  Viktor’s next words confirmed his fears. “Your team was targeted.”

  At that moment, all he could think about was his wife. “Izabel … does she know I’m here?”

  “She’ll be informed of your death.”

  No.

  “Get out,” Drake rasped.

  “Listen, Lieutenant.”

  “Get the fuck out of here!” His chest was caving in as he tried to drag air into his lungs. It fucking hurt.

  “The men responsible for your team’s massacre will only leave Izabel alone if you’re dead.” Viktor gritted through his teeth, the ice in his eyes held Drake arrested. “Harrelson’s survival hasn’t been made public yet, but intel is buzzing that Fire Team families are in danger. Can’t explain. We’re outta time. Delaying the release of the KIA list will put SEAL families in danger. Do you understand, Maddox?”

  “Izabel—”

  “My people are keeping her safe.”

  “I want to talk to her.”

  “Listen, Maddox,” Viktor stepped closer to his bed. “Make a decision. Or let the DoD give you and Izabel new identities. You’ve got months of recovery in front of you. You can’t protect her. You can’t shoot for shit. You’re a liability. Do you think Uncle Sam will foot the bill and hire you security? You know that’s bullshit and, if you don’t act now, it’ll be too late.”

  His brain was squeezing out of his skull at the enormity of the decision facing him. He refused to be dead to his wife. It’d kill her. It would kill him.

  “I want you on my Task Force,” Viktor pressed on. “We’ll give you time to heal. The doc said your spine would heal in two months. Full recovery in six. You’ll be back in fighting form, but Drake Maddox needs to be dead for this to happen.”

  Rage burned through him and he cursed his physical helplessness.

  “I’m not abandoning my wife!” he gritted through his teeth.

  “It’s possible to return to her,” Viktor paused. “We have no idea how long this mission can take. It could be a year; it could be five. Any inkling you’re alive endangers her. Best if she moves on.”

  “You’re out of your fucking mind.”

  Viktor blew out a breath and the way the man regarded him gave him chills.

  “She’s pregnant.”

  He didn’t even question how Viktor knew. Joy burst in Drake’s heart, but, just as quickly, it shattered into unbearable pain even worse than his broken body.

  “You return to her as is, both of you would be on the run, wondering if each day would be your last. Is that the life you want for her and your unborn child?”

  “As opposed to making her a widow?” Drake’s voice was guttural with the sense of overwhelming loss, but a decision had solidified in his gut. His throat scraped like he’d swallowed a boxful of tacks. “I need people I can trust to watch over her.”

  “My agents—”

  “My people, Viktor,” Drake growled.

  “One person,” Viktor relented.

  “No.”

  “Only one person outside our Task Force can know you’re alive,” the other man stated unequivocally. “I’d have to vet him. If he doesn’t pass, there’s no compromise. If you refuse to become a ghost, I’m turning you over to Joint Special Operations Command.”

  His warning wasn’t lost on Drake. The moment he stepped out of the secretive world of Viktor Baran, he’d be exposed, and Izabel could be dead before he reached her.

  “Tex,” Drake muttered, and then more loudly, “John Keegan.”

  Izabel had been crying for two days after reports of a special ops team massacre hit the SEAL community. And if that news wasn’t terrible enough, Jessica—the wife of Drake’s CO—had been killed in a car accident together with her young boys. Rumors were rampant that SEAL families were in danger but they had been squelched by the Navy’s communications director. She’d come home that morning after sitting vigil all night at one of the wive’s homes where they’d prayed and waited for more information.

  Izabel had just walked into the house when she received a text from one of the SEAL wives.

  Turn on the TV. XNN.

  Switching on the TV, Izabel flipped to the cable news channel.

  “Again, details are still sketchy,” the news anchor said. “But a reliable source within the DoD has confirmed that the casualties are indeed from JSOC.”

  SEAL Team 6 was a part of JSOC and Drake was the sniper of Fire Team—its most secretive unit.

  She hadn’t talked to her husband since their last FaceTime seven days before. Their conversation had been stilted because Drake couldn’t talk about his mission. It was obvious that he’d slipped back into warrior mode, and he was not the loving husband he was with her when he was stateside. It seemed like the wrong time to tell him that she suspected she was pregnant.

  Izabel glared at the TV, grabbed the remote, and turned it off. If anyone could survive the odds, it was Drake.

  She had faith in him.

  He was going to walk through that door any moment.

  She walked into their bedroom and picked up the pregnancy test. This week had been a rollercoaster. On Tuesday she’d come home from her doctor deliriously happy that she was six-weeks pregnant and, twenty-four hours after that, she’d come crashing down into every military wife’s nightmare.

  Izabel glanced at the clock on the wall. Seven in the morning. She’d just been promoted to senior architect at Stockman and Bose Builders, but she’d have to call in and take another personal day.

  She rested a hand on her flat stomach, drawing strength from the life growing inside her. “Your dad is going to be fine. He’s a superhero.” The stress was driving her insane and couldn’t be good for her pregnancy. Her mind desperately sought that time months ago when Drake brought up plans to start a family.

  Izabel was sitting beside Drake on the couch, laptop in front of her and absorbed in the modifications to a crucial project. Her husband was watching football, but she could feel his gaze on her. In the beginning of their relationship, his frank appraisals made her self-conscious, and she would blush to the roots of her hair. Now, it warmed her heart, thinking just how crazy Drake was about her. It scared her sometimes how much she loved him, but she felt secure that he would always be careful with her heart.

  Her mouth twitched. “Game boring you?” She kept her eyes on her work, but her belly fluttered with anticipation. They’d been together six years and just a look from him made her toes curl.

  “I was just thinking,” he said conversationally, but there was something in his voice that pulled her eyes to him. “How happy it would make me to have a daughter who looks exactly like you.”

  “Drake?” she said. “What are you saying?”

  The TV roared with a rousing cheer from the football crowd, but her husband continued to ignore the game. Instead, he picked up the remote, pointed it to the TV, and switched it off. Then he scooted closer and took her laptop, setting it on the coffee table. He did all these without taking his eyes off hers.

  “SEAL contract is up for renewal,” he told her. “I’m not re-enlisting.”

  “But—”

  He raised a finger to her lips, effectively silencing her before sweetly tracing its outline with his thumb.“We’ve talked about starting a family before. We both agreed when the time is right, I’ll resign from the Navy. I’m ready.” He took a deep breath. “I hope to God you are. Have my babies, Iza. Give me little girls with their mother’s eyes and glorious hair …”

  “And if we have boys?” Her voice choked with emotion.

  His wide grin told her everything she needed to know.

  The slamming of car doors jolted her out of that sweet memory. Izabel forced her feet to move and walked out the bedroom. Through the living room windows she saw two black SUVs. Time stood frozen as she stared at the door.

&nbs
p; “Go away,” she whispered. “Please, dear God, not this.”

  There was a knock on the door.

  Tears wet her cheeks and her heart pounded painfully, but her body refused to budge.

  The doorbell rang and she came unstuck. Body-shaking tremors tore through her and, before she knew it, she was at the door, throwing it open. Two SEALs in dress blues and two Navymen stood there. She didn’t recognize any of them.

  “Mrs. Maddox, I’m sorry to inform you …”

  “Nooooo!” She couldn’t hear any more as her legs buckled, their words sending her to her knees. Arms gently wrapped around her.

  Soothing voices tried to reach her but she was locked in her grief, her nightmare, her rage.

  “It’s not him!” she screamed. “You’re wrong. Tell me you’re wrong.”

  The SEAL shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not him,” she continued to sob. “Not my Drake.”

  Izabel didn’t know how long she cried. She was led to a couch and the two SEALs remained and talked to her. They introduced themselves as Matthew Steel and Sam Reed.

  Much later, details of the massacre trickled in.

  Fire Team was gone; their lone survivor was Commander Harrelson. Twenty SEALs killed in action—drawn into a trap.

  Many more operators from different JSOC units lost their lives that day.

  Eight SEAL wives had become widows.

  Twenty-one children had lost their fathers.

  Including Izabel’s unborn child.