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  Killian

  The Mavericks, Book 15

  Dale Mayer

  Books in This Series:

  Kerrick, Book 1

  Griffin, Book 2

  Jax, Book 3

  Beau, Book 4

  Asher, Book 5

  Ryker, Book 6

  Miles, Book 7

  Nico, Book 8

  Keane, Book 9

  Lennox, Book 10

  Gavin, Book 11

  Shane, Book 12

  Diesel, Book 13

  Jerricho, Book 14

  Killian, Book 15

  Hatch, Book 16

  The Mavericks, Books 1–2

  The Mavericks, Books 3–4

  The Mavericks, Books 5–6

  The Mavericks, Books 7–8

  The Mavericks, Books 9–10

  The Mavericks, Books 11–12

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  About This Book

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  About Hatch

  Author’s Note

  Complimentary Download

  About the Author

  Copyright Page

  About This Book

  What happens when the very men—trained to make the hard decisions—come up against the rules and regulations that hold them back from doing what needs to be done? They either stay and work within the constraints given to them or they walk away. Only now, for a select few, they have another option:

  The Mavericks. A covert black ops team that steps up and break all the rules … but gets the job done.

  Welcome to a new military romance series by USA Today best-selling author Dale Mayer. A series where you meet new friends and just might get to meet old ones too in this raw and compelling look at the men who keep us safe every day from the darkness where they operate—and live—in the shadows … until someone special helps them step into the light.

  Killian is called up to retrieve a woman who’s been kidnapped, then escaped, only to be captured again. With a sketchy SOS coming in, Killian’s tracking her from Vancouver to the far reaches of the Yukon Territory in Canada, right next door to Alaska, where the intel finally stops.

  The apple of her father’s eye, Stacey was a late gift in his life. But, when it counted, he wasn’t there for her, leaving her alone and unprotected. On the run from her abusive husband, she’s kidnapped a second time by a seasoned negotiator, who can see she’s in trouble. Only he plans to auction her off to the highest bidder.

  With several threads running together on this mission, Killian must find the predator in the middle and take him out, or Stacey will never be safe again.

  Sign up to be notified of all Dale’s releases here!

  Prologue

  Killian Nordstrom walked along the beach, picked up a piece of driftwood, and threw it out into the ocean. He had come for a run, and now he was staying because, well, it was just so damn beautiful. He stood for a long moment, smiling at the world around him. When he turned to head back, he stopped because a figure on the cliff watched him. He walked up to see his sister. “Hey, sis. How’s life?”

  “It would be better,” she said, “if it weren’t for these phone calls.” She held out her own phone. He looked at it and asked, “Who is it?” But she didn’t answer, just thrust her phone at him. He grabbed her phone, frowning, putting it to his ear.

  “It’s me, Jerricho,” he said. “You didn’t answer your phone.”

  “I left it in my room,” he said. “It’s just been so beautiful here on the beach.”

  “I’m enjoying a different beach,” Jerricho said.

  “You’re not that far away,” he said.

  “Nope, but you will be soon.”

  At that, Killian stilled. “Where am I going?”

  “How do you feel about Vancouver Island?”

  He frowned. “Canada?”

  “Yeah, Canada. And a woman who’s got an issue.”

  “Yeah, but that’s not exactly pirate country.”

  “Nope, it isn’t, but a woman was kidnapped from a transport ship, and, when they got to the Vancouver docks, she escaped somehow. Even though the longshoremen were more stunned, I think, than anything, she sent out an SOS for help on Vancouver Island.”

  “How the hell did she go from Vancouver to Vancouver Island?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “And her story is a little bit far-fetched. However, we have to consider it legit because of who she is.”

  “And who is she?”

  “She’s the daughter of the New York governor, who just retired.”

  “Daughter?”

  “Yes, she was one of those late-in-life children. He was fifty-five when she was born.”

  “Wow, that has to be tough.”

  “The apple of his eye. She has been traveling the world. She’s a chef and was picked up and tossed onto an overseas carrier, where she somehow ended up in Vancouver. Now she’s lost on Vancouver Island.”

  “But Vancouver Island’s tiny,” he said. “That’s a hard place to get lost in. Besides, Canadians? … How hard can it be?”

  “One SOS came from Vancouver Island. But the one after that came from farther up the coast.”

  “Alaska?”

  “It didn’t come from that far north, but we’re afraid that’s the direction she’s going or traveling, so it could very well be where she ends up.”

  “Did she ask for help? Did she ask for a pickup? What the hell’s going on?”

  “She sent out the SOS, but the last one came in as a kidnapper’s note for ransom.”

  “Shit. So did they find her again? Is that the deal?”

  “Or somebody else found her and decided to take advantage of her circumstances.”

  “I hate people sometimes,” he said.

  “In this case, the governor doesn’t have much influence, outside of the fact that he’s still connected. I’m not sure what could be the issue here, but he did say that her ex-husband is a possible suspect.”

  “Why?”

  “Apparently he was involved in a few things that weren’t quite kosher, and she left him. As part of her leverage to make sure that he didn’t take her to the cleaners and that he left her alive, she apparently took some material with her.”

  “Uh-oh,” Killian said, “that’s never smart.”

  “No, never smart. In this case, it may have backfired, but apparently he’s quite an asshole, and she needed something in order to feel like she could get out of the situation safely.”

  “The governor couldn’t do it?”

  “Father and husband were really close. Until she went to her father with all the evidence on her hubby, so now her father believes her.”

  “Well, that’s something. Isn’t it a little bit too late?”

  “Which is why he’s pulled in all the chips to see if he can get her back. He feels responsible for not having given her his trust and security back then.”

  “How long has she been missing?”

  “The ransom note came in an hour ago.”

  “Shit.” He looked one last time at the beauty surrounding him and said, “I’m packed.”

  “Good,” he said, “because, if you walk up that cliff, you’ll find yourself at the road, where a car’s waiting for you.”

  “And my bag?”

  “It’s already in the trunk,” he said. “Have a nice trip.” And, with that, Jerricho hung up.


  His sister looked at him and said, “I gather you’re leaving?”

  “Sorry, sis. I figured I was only here for a couple days.”

  She shrugged. “Honestly I’m just glad to have seen you that long,” she murmured. “Go off and save the world. It’s what you’re good at.”

  He smiled and said, “How did you know?”

  “I heard part of that conversation,” she said. “And, if she needs a place to relax afterward, she’s always welcome here.”

  “That’s just because you think I’ll come home with her.”

  “Hearing the little bit you’ve told me about the company you work for,” she said, “I wouldn’t be at all surprised.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Haven’t they all come back with partners?” she said. “I’ll hardly be upset if this is your next mission, and you come back with one too.”

  He looked at her askance. “What? And lose my freedom?”

  She snorted. “Pretty sure that freedom doesn’t matter one damn bit to you,” she said.

  He grinned as they walked up, and he pointed to the vehicle and said, “There’s my ride.”

  She nodded, gave him a big kiss on the cheek, and said, “Go save the world.”

  “Maybe not the world,” he said, “just one woman.”

  “Make sure it’s the right one,” she said, with a big grin.

  And he hopped into the vehicle and took off.

  Chapter 1

  Killian Nordstrom exited his vehicle, parked in the hotel’s outdoor parking space, and stretched. Seemed like he’d been traveling for hours, and, of course, he had. But now he was here. He yawned, reached behind him into the car, and grabbed his bag, shutting the door this time. He headed to the entrance, then sauntered to the front desk, where he quickly checked in. Nothing fancy about this hotel. But, as the intel had been flowing fast since his departure from California, this trip to Whitehorse in Canada’s Yukon Territory had been nothing short of a series of fast military hops, with multiple connections, finally hooking him up with a rented vehicle.

  All he cared about now was that he had made it to his destination. In his room he quickly dropped his bag, walked to the window, and checked out the view, noting how close the trails and parks and the wilds of Mother Nature were to this town. He was in need of a good solid meal, preferably something with a lot of red meat. As he walked back into the reception area, he asked for the closest restaurant where he could get a steak. Apparently just down the block and around the corner. With that, he tossed back a smile of thanks and headed out, donning a hat and sunglasses.

  In the dead heat of summer, he knew, once he hit the bush, that black flies were everywhere. They were almost as big as the bloody grizzlies, he was sure. But he would take animal predators over people any day. The animals were predictable, their motivations simple. But when it came to people? Well, things were never quite so simple. He knew that he looked a bit scruffy, but he didn’t want to look too good. He didn’t want to draw any attention to himself; so looking like he was just passing through was fine with him.

  As he walked to the restaurant, he studied his surroundings, getting a feel for the atmosphere. A few people milled about—nobody suspicious or too interested in him—and a little bit of traffic, but not like in the big cities he was used to. The air here was fresh, had a cleanliness to it that he hadn’t really been expecting. Also a mugginess that was hard to ignore, no matter where you were in the world. When that heat hit the muggy air, it was forced down onto the town and ended up as this stickiness that soaked through your clothing with every step you took.

  As soon as he walked inside the restaurant, the blast of cold air-conditioning hit him, and he froze in the spot for a long moment, just enjoying it.

  The hostess walked over and smiled. “AC is one of the best inventions in the world.”

  He nodded with a smile. “As is heat.”

  She laughed out loud at that. “It all depends on which day and the time of the year,” she said, “and I’d change my comment to match.”

  He nodded. “Table for one,” he said. “I need a big steak tonight.”

  “I think we can do that,” she said, as he followed her to the back of the room.

  She gave him a small table for two and asked, “Is this okay?”

  “It’s perfect,” he said. “I don’t really want anybody to join me because I’m not feeling terribly social.”

  “Not a problem,” she said. “I’ll bring you some coffee. Or do you want something stronger?”

  “A beer sounds great,” he said instantly. “Also do you have any bread? French, sourdough, something along that line?”

  “Sure,” she said, as she quickly disappeared, leaving him to settle into place.

  His phone buzzed. He pulled it out, took a look, and noted that lovely empty black text box. He never really quite knew who was on the other end. When he didn’t check in on his designated arrival time, he was prompted to do so.

  He typed one word. Arrived. Then he put his phone off to the side, as the waitress returned with a glass of cold beer topped by a beautiful foam. He picked it up and took a good slug. “Thank you,” he said in appreciation. “In this heat there’s nothing like it.”

  She nodded as she also put down a wooden board, with a small loaf of bread on it and a tub of butter. “Now,” she said, “here’s your menu.”

  He waved away the menu. “I want a medium-rare steak, a baked potato, and something green on the side—either a salad or some steamed vegetables.”

  “Got you covered,” she said, and she turned and walked away quickly.

  He dug into the bread and had half of it gone before she returned with a large platter.

  He whistled appreciatively. “Now this is what I’m talking about.” In front of him was a huge steak, an equally large baked potato, and just a little bit of green beans. Normally he liked his greens just fine, but, right now, he was all about red meat. He cut into it with a smile because not only was it a good portion but it was cooked just the way he liked it.

  In other words, this would be a hell of a meal. He dug in, and the only thing that interrupted him was ordering a second beer halfway through. By the time he was done with his meal, he pushed back his empty plate with a happy sigh.

  The waitress returned to clear his table.

  He smiled and murmured, “Thanks. That was a great meal.”

  “I’m glad you liked it,” she said, with a bright smile, as she quickly collected the remaining dishes.

  He got up and walked to the front.

  She met him there and quickly gave him the bill. After settling up, including a sizable tip, he headed out. By now it was a little bit cooler but not a whole lot. He checked his surroundings. Empty. He pulled out his phone, still nothing from anybody, which suited him fine. He had a delivery coming to the hotel, another reason he needed to get going. Hopefully it was already there. He didn’t want even the courier to see him. The less people who did made his job easier. But in this small town? Killian feared the waitress and the hotel clerk were two people too many.

  He strolled along the street, carefully checking if anybody was out, if anybody was paying any attention, but the place was dead. Like dead-dead. As in, nobody around—nobody. It was past normal work hours, and they’d all gone home, somewhere. Wherever that was, Killian didn’t know. The place was seriously quiet. And that worked for him. It was much easier to take care of business when he didn’t have a constant audience. He passed the reception desk and headed upstairs to his room. He entered it quietly, and, as expected, the parcel had arrived.

  He smiled. He did like doing business, where you put in a request and had it delivered as soon as possible, without arguments or even conversation. Somehow the Mavericks always managed to get what he needed. It was a good system, even if it left things a little on the creepy side—especially if you were a team person, always looking for the other half of your team. Killian hadn’t expected to be alone on this op,
but, even as he turned to open the bag, he heard a noise, and he froze, his hand going to his shoulder holster.

  A man stepped out of the bathroom, grinning in an almost friendly way.

  Killian stared at him and murmured, “I almost shot you. Who are you, and why are you here?”

  “Nah, I knew you wouldn’t shoot without asking questions,” said the relaxed man in front of him.

  Killian studied the stranger’s face. Tall and swarthy with dark hair, yet somehow vaguely familiar. “I know you, but I don’t know you.”

  “Surgery,” he said. “A hell of a lot of it.”

  “Hatch?” Killian asked in shock, his gun hand dropping by his side as recognition slammed into him.

  A real smile crept out. He nodded. “Hatch Collar, in the flesh. Your sight is still pretty decent, considering you recognized me through the damage.”

  “Jesus,” he said. “I didn’t even know you were back to work.”

  “I’m not really,” Hatch said. “At least not the normal route. The Mavericks suit me better.”

  “Last I heard, you were severely injured,” Killian said cautiously. “As in, never to return to active duty.”

  “I was, but now I’m fully recovered and back in fighting form.” His voice held a slight edge, as if daring anyone to argue the point.

  “And you’re working for the Mavericks?” He was stilled stunned at his old friend’s appearance.

  “Yes,” he said. “Unless you veto my participation.”

  Immediately Killian shook his head. “Oh, hell no. You made it this far, so you go all the way. You deserve it.”

  “I don’t deserve or need another chance,” he said tersely. “I’m just fine as I am. I just thought maybe I could do more to help the messed-up world out there.”

  “It’s even worse now,” Killian said. He studied Hatch’s face, the scars visible, even though everything possible had been done to minimize them. “What happened to you? I heard stories but—”

  “I entered a house as it was bombed. The ceiling came down on top of me, while I was trying to get the rest of the team out.”