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 Copyright © 2021 by Julia Payne

 All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

GIRL UNDER FIRE

JULIA PAYNE

Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

Staying in Touch with Julia

Other Books by Julia

 

Chapter 1

Raid

 

I still couldn't believe Nyke's dumb luck. Of all the days this thing was supposed to go down, why did it have to be today? If I had a Christmas like everyone else, then this would be the whitest Christmas ever, and there would be presents.  And family. Yes, definitely a family. But, no, not for me, it seems. That's apparently not in the cards I was dealt. I get a White Christmas chasing after the lead mobster from Mykonos.

All the waiting is driving me nuts as I stand in the FBI's safe house in lower Manhattan. Somehow, someone who occupies a higher pay grade than I do think that letting Nyke get into the country and catching him here was better than bagging him at the private jet terminal where he landed. It's not how I would have done it, but whatever.

My hand instinctively reaches to check my side holster. Part of me doesn't even realize I am doing that, but it has become a nervous tick of mine. And the hours before a sting can bring about a bunch of them.

Nyke Pops was as icky as they came, but it wasn't the ick factor that got him on the Fed's most wanted list. It was money laundering that got their attention. There was already more than enough to put him away, but they wanted to nab him with the loot in his possession. Again, not what I would have done, but whatever.

As I look down from the thirty-fourth floor of the building, I see the desolate streets of New York, ripped of merrymakers due to the blizzard that was almost upon us. On most nights like this – the night before Christmas, this would be crazy busy, but tonight, it was just lights and snow. Pretty. And mesmerizing, I think to myself, almost allowing the scene to seduce me into a dream state.

But it's a working night; I remind myself as I see the reflection in the window. Harold doesn't know it, but I can see him walking up behind me. This was his operation. He had planned everything as best he could, considering that Nyke was a master of unpredictability, and the weather had moved in without much warning. It was a crapshoot all around.

Harold is a nice guy. He was charming in his own sort of way. But a total worry-wort. Not sure how he got into Quantico or how he managed to get to be Special Agent in Charge. I find him a little wimpy, but I have to constantly remind myself that he has always had my back. And Millie, his wife, is a total sweetheart. If I were a guy, I'd probably have tried to marry her. She does deserve him, though. Harold is a straight shooter. What you see is what you get.

"Do you still want to go through with this?" My boss asks as he falls within earshot behind me.

"Yeah, what else can we do?" I reply, wondering what on earth he's talking about but not turning around to look at him. We are so far into this, and there is no way of explaining to the Attorney General that the FBI backed off a bust because of a blizzard. It would redefine the term, 'snowflake.' No. We had to do this. But why he was giving me the option, I had no idea. My gaze, intoxicated by the falling snow, was not easy to break away from. I just wanted to watch and not engage Harold in a conversation, but I couldn't. I shake myself out of it. What did he mean that there would be a chase that would undoubtedly follow when the raid went down?

To clarify my answer, I press the issue. "What do you mean. We have to do this. No?"

"We do, but there are difficult circumstances to all plans. The boys downstairs say that the snow is already a foot thick, and we are just as the beginning. It's falling at about eighteen inches per hour. By the time this goes down, the bust might pose the risk of collateral damage."

"So, get the plow to roll in front of us," I say as I look at the reflection in the window. I can tell he is worried, but I am pretty sure I can get this done. Bagging Nyke would be good for my career. It will even work in my favor if I decide to pull the trigger and send my application in for a position with the Secret Service.

As I try hard to cut Harold out of my focus and get back to gazing, I hear Matt hurry up from the other room where they've set up the communications equipment.

"They're early. It's going down now," Matt says.

Now? The sudden change of pace from crystal snowflakes falling outside the window to an FBI sting about to get underway was unexpected; I thought as I grabbed my jacket and made sure my main weapon was locked and loaded. More clips surrounded my utility belt, and my backup gun sat silently in my rear holster. I've done this a million times in my decade-long career at the FBI, but it still gets me going each time. The suddenness of the mission had its benefits - adrenaline.

I can almost feel the synaptic activity in my brain explode, but in a good

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