The Alpha's Secret Baby 2

C H A P T E R O N E - - - S H A U N

There was no noise at all. The sounds of insects buzzing and chirping in the distance were the only things breaking the stillness of the dense jungle around Shaun. As he took a seat at his post high up in a large tree on his stomach, he scrunched his nose and slightly shifted his weight to his hips.

There was no noise at all. The sounds of insects buzzing and chirping in the distance were the only things breaking the stillness of the dense jungle around Shaun. As he took a seat at his post high up in a large tree on his stomach, he scrunched his nose and slightly shifted his weight to his hips.

They were in the midst of a South American jungle in a nation that Shaun didn't care about and couldn't recall the name of. All of these haunts began to resemble one another after a few years with The Firm. Depending on the mission, the only differences were the flight's duration and the type of nest he would need to choose.

Far below him, in a valley's dip, Shaun once more scanned the compound. They were tucked away in the dense forest, tiny, squat structures that blended in almost perfectly with the surrounding vegetation. The longest and smallest of the houses had the most guards stationed at their entrances. They assumed the storage facility. Through the gaps that served as windows, candles or oil lamps flickered. Nothing appeared to be there for an extended period of time. If necessary, the entire camp could be disassembled and relocated in less than a day.

drug traffickers Why didn't they choose a better environment to do their shit in? Shaun thought dejectedly.

He had developed a strong phobia of heat after serving two tours in Afghanistan. Even though the ex-jaguar SEAL's appeared to be purring contentedly and be prepared to move as soon as the call came, the human side of him was not particularly pleased with the warm, humid weather. Even though it wasn't as bad as the desert's oppressive, dry heat, he had recently grown to appreciate more temperate climates.

Smiling to himself, Shaun said. The mission must have been taking forever if he was talking about the weather in his inner monologue.

The comm unit was turned on by him touching his finger to his ear. "Category 3. This is all clear. Any news on when we will arrive? He tried to disguise his slight annoyance in his voice with something more akin to eagerness as he asked.

“Cat One. Cat Four encountered a problem; we'll keep you updated," Jerome reported.

Shaun held back his sigh. If Tim, Cat Four, encountered a problem, it was likely that one or more of the bombs had not yet been detonated. In order to confuse the thugs when they decided to attack, he and Mitch had been creeping around the campsite's perimeter and planting tiny explosive devices on the buildings that were closest to the ground.

Shaun inhaled deeply, reminding himself that he was a patient man. He needed to be. Being a sniper came with the territory. But in all honesty, he had lost a lot of his composure in the past few years and didn't really know how to get it back. In an effort to keep himself busy, he carefully kept his eye on the scope as he circled the buildings and the guards one by one, noting their locations.

When he was on a long stakeout like this one, thoughts started racing through his mind that he didn't really need. Memories, flashes, screams, promises... he could do without them all. His nightly scotch habit, along with a rigorous training regimen and keeping good company, either with his team or with women, kept them at bay, but when he was all alone up in a nest like this one, time was his worst enemy.

Don't go there, he told himself as the corners of his vision blurred and his finger itched to press the trigger.

So he tallied. At the center building, there are two guards. Two are at the warehouse door, with a third circling it. Three more were walking around in a circle, looking as if they knew what they were doing. As their recon over the previous three days had revealed, there were probably a few more hidden by the other buildings, and countless more in the houses.

Shaun felt a familiar sense of unease as he observed their equipment. These guys were well-armed and well-equipped. They weren't armed with discarded AKs and a mishmash of handguns like Shaun was used to seeing on drug lords, but with new weapons. Clean, orderly, and well-maintained.

The men wielding them appeared to be putting on their best slumming act, but a man can't hide prowess and capability for long. These guys were pumped and tense. Careful. They weren't just bumbling muscle sent out into the jungles to get killed over a bad deal.

When Jerome relayed this to command, they got a deadpan response about it being "just a drug cartel" and "the mission is the same—clean out the group," which elicited a round of eye rolls in the bunker and more than a few expletives directed at the guy delivering the news.

Spade. Somehow, whenever things started to seem strange, that motherfucker was always involved. Nobody was surprised that this was another one of these occasions or that, even in the best of circumstances, getting information out of him was difficult. Shaun wasn't the biggest Spade fan to begin with because of the incident involving Tim and Tom and their wife Maddison.

However, they followed instructions as usual, albeit perhaps this time with a little more caution. That was probably the reason Jerome was not in a hurry, taking longer than usual to stake out the location and giving Tim plenty of time to set up. They all aspired to enter and exit in a tidy manner. Shaun knew he was speaking for everyone when he said that a sensible mission would be most welcome for a change because there had been too many unexpected, uncivilized fights lately.

He was therefore irritated when he unexpectedly heard noises coming from the camp as one of the guards pointed to the perimeter's shadows while shouting something.

Shit, Shaun thought to himself, recognizing the area he was pointing at as one of the places Tim was planning to plant an explosive.

A low whine, subtle but present, reached his ears. Laser-tripped perimeter guards Tim probably didn't realize he was close to one until it went off like an air horn.

"Cat Four has been created," Shaun growled into the comm as he took aim.

“Lock and load,” came the familiar reply, Jerome’s voice as tight as Shaun’s.

Everything went to hell in an instant. Tim had to have hit the remote detonation triggers at the same time Shaun pulled the trigger on the gun for the first time, dropping the guy screaming with a clean hit to the head. The four buildings exploded in a brilliant display of sparks, flames, and explosions so loud they could deafen a man in the distance Shaun was located.

Even through the protective goggles he was wearing, which were set for low light and quick adaptation between illumination levels, Shaun instinctively closed his eyes as the explosions flashed intensely. Even so, he was already adjusting the rifle with his hands, the barrel moving only a few inches in the direction he anticipated the next two guards might be running.

He smiled to himself as the hair trigger on a beast of a guard running toward the entrance Jerome and Tom would use was perfectly aligned when he opened his eyes. A millisecond later, the man fell to his knees while clutching his throat, and the person behind him did the same.

Shaun fired three bullets into the rifle with a quick reload. His heart was racing, and his veins were pounding with adrenaline. Chaos annoyed him. To be completely honest, I detested it with a fervent hatred. Nothing made him happier than a well-organized maneuver, and this was far from it.

People piled out of the burning buildings, some prepared to fight and some simply prepared to perish. A definite indication that the rest of Squadron Six was approaching was the sound of gunfire beginning to rumble the jungle below. This was not how things should have been. This was not flawless.

But occasionally, that was how their missions went. He had to be ready for anything, and he was, according to the spirits above. However, no one implied that Shaun had to concur.

Shaun focused on their main objective as Mitch's voice over the comm announced, "Movement in the warehouse."

Typically, they were given the assignment to eliminate everyone present by either wiping them out or gathering them together for local authorities. Local authorities, of course, usually meant some wealthy jerk who had paid them to eliminate some competition. In the end, Shaun wasn't too concerned. His morals had been questionable for a long time, and at the end of the day, he considered any piece of shit that wasn't roaming the Earth and potentially killing innocent people a victory.

However, this time, it was against the law to leave anyone unattended. To say the least, it was unusual but not unheard of. Squad Six was aware of The Firm's reputation for accepting jobs that weren't entirely kosher.

They'd talked about it numerous times, but they came to the understanding that they could refuse anything if it didn't quite line up with their moral compass. But for Shaun, getting rid of a bunch of drug dealers was a win-win situation.

When he noticed one of the powerful guards running directly toward Jordan, who was protecting Jerome, like he was being pursued by demons, he didn't think twice for a moment. Before pulling the trigger, Shaun let his finger rest on it for a moment. A second later, he saw the man fall to the ground like a wet tissue, which was a satisfying sight.

Seconds later, he remarked, "Warehouse stable," frowning slightly as he regarded the long, slender structure.

Even though nobody had yet left, he knew there had to be at least five people inside. No back entrances existed, and the windows he could see did not exhibit any movement. He had assumed that because they were on the highest alert, the warehouse workers would be among the first to leave. Although he had killed the guards stationed at the door, he was unable to see any other individuals trying to join the fight or flee.

Shaun muttered to himself, pushing the tobacco he was chewing into the corner of his mouth, "The fuck's going on here."

A few years ago, when he had taken more than one bullet during the squad's valiant show of introducing Jerome to his wife Libby, his knee throbbed with a dull ache. A wolf had nearly killed him when it had caught him in his nest.

Shaun had developed a severe case of nest-related paranoia since then. Nothing was worse for a sniper than to be killed while their focus was on a battle taking place half a mile away. Nevertheless, he was adamant about never letting anyone else enter the nest with him.

In an effort to bring some order to the chaos, Mitch called, "Cat Two, buildings three and seven cleaned out."

Jordan said, "Cat Five, building two cleaned out."

The conflict was becoming more erratic. The perimeter's smaller buildings had been thoroughly cleaned out after Jerome and the rest of the team took out the weak points. The three huts that had been damaged by the explosions were on fire and in danger of spreading the destruction. The only indication that anyone was down there at all was sporadic gunfire coming from covered locations; however, the would-be commandos were no longer in sight.

The warehouse remained standing as a symbol of absolute silence. There was a problem. Shaun was aware of it in his body.