Agent Undone Read online

  Agent Undone

  Cassidy Reyne

  Agent: Undone Copyright 2020 By Cassidy Reyne

  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 the written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted in the licensed material is a model. This book is fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations are entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by Original Book Cover Designs

  Editing by Spirit Editorial

  First Edition: May 2020

  For Jodie, Kara and Michelle.

  Thank you for your never-ending support, love and friendship.

  Without you, this book would not be what it is today. I will be forever grateful to have you all in my life.

  Contents

  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

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  A Note To You From Cassidy

  Acknowledgments

  About Cassidy Reyne

  Also By Cassidy Reyne

  Chapter One

  Damn bullet wound! Carter Hollis swore to himself. His left leg ached and spasmed in an uncoordinated rhythm, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. The doc had patched him up and now it just needed to be left alone to heal. Maybe driving the 900 miles to Port St George hadn’t been the best idea when you were shot in the leg two weeks ago. He snorted at this huge understatement. Crazy is what it was. Carter’s face darkened as his mind turned to the op that had gone so spectacularly wrong, ended with him being shot and losing them an agent in the process. He hadn’t known the guy very well as he’d been on another team, however it was always a huge loss to everyone when someone didn’t return to their family at the end of the day.

  He squirmed in the seat of his Jeep, trying to find a more comfortable position while keeping the vehicle straight on the road. Good thing he hadn’t been shot in the right leg or he wouldn't have been driving at all.

  He’d started out long before dawn and planned on getting as many miles between himself and Virginia before pulling into a motel for something to eat and a few hours of sleep. He preferred driving in the night when it was cooler and there was less traffic, and wanted to get to Florida as soon as possible. His buddy, Nathan, had bought a beach cottage just outside the town a few years back and had offered it to Carter now that needed somewhere to recuperate for a couple of months. Staying in Virginia Beach with his parents nearby would have driven him crazy. He loved them both and they were great people, but his Mom would not be able to stay away and would be coming around all the time with food he’d never be able to eat and insist on cleaning his house for him. He had enough to deal with and couldn’t cope with all the attention as well.

  Carter watched the first rays of the sun touch the ocean by the side of the highway, coloring it in dark reds and golds. Soon, it would be high in the sky cranking up the heat for another gorgeous day in the sunshine state. He’d be coming off the highway in a few miles to take the interstate west towards Port St George. He’d keep going for another couple hours before stopping for some breakfast and a quick break. His left leg was cramping constantly and he needed to stretch and move around for a bit. Once again, his thoughts turned to the op that had caused him to take the next two months off from his job as Senior Agent with the DEA.

  Intel had been filtering in suggesting large amounts of drugs were being shipped in and distributed to smaller boats off the coast of Louisiana. These smaller boats could reach the Bayous undetected where the cargo was transferred to cars and vans waiting in pre-arranged meeting places. They were hard to spot and even harder to follow.

  The intel had told them where to find the larger vessels dropping the drugs off and then some fucking idiot higher up in the decision making chain had thought it a good idea to try and follow the drugs to wrap up the whole distribution network. It wasn’t a bad idea as such, just a bad idea in this particular instance. Anyone who had ever been to the Bayous knew it was a pain-in-the-ass struggle to follow anyone through them undetected. There were hundreds of places where drug runners could meet, but anyone trying to keep up would soon be spotted. The only way of following the trail would be to put trackers on the shipments, though no one had been able to get close enough yet to do it. Of course, they were ordered to track the next shipment anyway, and consequently had picked one of the bigger motor boats to try and follow it through the swamps to the drop-off point. That’s when it all went to hell and people got killed. The team was spotted and a shootout ensued with bullets flying everywhere. They’d managed to get the drug runners and the drugs and three of the bastards got killed, including the one who’d nailed their agent, and two other agents were injured, and so was he. The whole thing had been a total fuck up and if he had his way, heads would roll. The intel had been good, but not enough to run with, and they should have taken their time to investigate further and come up with a better plan than trying to do a raid in a swamp. Oh, well, it was all done now and his people were paying the price of the fall out.

  Carter pulled himself out of his head and re-focused his attention on the road. He’d already done about 300 of the 900 miles total, and decided to look for a diner with a parking lot in the shade to stop for something to eat and a few hours’ snooze. It was still early morning and he’d do another third of the distance that evening, then eat again before finding a motel to crash at so he could do the last stretch the following morning. He expected to reach Port St George sometime in the early hours of the next day and go straight to the cottage to unpack and settle in.

  Once more, his thoughts turned inward to memories of his former girlfriend, Mira Peyton, who had been killed in an earlier op by a Mexican drug lord. That op had run perfectly until the last minute when a kid had spotted them approaching and sounded the alarm. Mira had been shot by the head of the cartel himself, Felipe Garrido, and had died in Carter’s arms, pleading for him to save her. It had fucked him up for months and he’d sworn to never get himself involved with a woman again. The last four years, he’d had plenty of one night stands with women he’d never see again and a few hook ups with others who knew the score and didn’t expect anything long term. He wasn’t relationship material and certainly had no intention of ever settling down. There were too many beautiful women out there who didn’t mind a few “love ‘em and leave ‘em” hours in a bed somewhere. He always made sure they went to her place or a hotel, never to his apartment. He had no intention of letting them know where he lived just in case they didn’t believe him when he said it was for a quick fuck only, not a long term thing.

  Spotting a decent looking diner, he parked up and went inside to order a big breakfast of waffles, hash browns and crispy bacon, and washed it all dow
n with some hot coffee. After finishing the last few bites he yawned widely and felt the tiredness set in from the long drive. Smiling to the pretty waitress, he paid for his meal and walked out into the early morning sunshine. He pulled the Jeep into the shade of some trees at the far end of the diner’s parking lot, and leaned the seat back for a rest. It was still only 7 am so he’d sleep for a few hours before setting out on the road again. His leg was hurting like a bitch and he had to swallow some painkillers to be able to relax. Once he got down to Florida, he’d chuck the pills in the trash and just put up with the pain. He hated taking medication of just about any kind and would rather be in pain for a while than fill his blood stream with some synthetic shit and risk becoming hooked. It had happened to a couple of his friends after getting injured on the job, and he wasn’t taking any chances. Having checked all the doors of the truck were locked and his handgun within easy reach, but out of sight, he closed his eyes and fell into an uneasy slumber.

  The smell of salty air and the ocean hit his nose through the open window of the Jeep as he pulled up to a large beach house outside St George Beach Village, which was located on a narrow peninsula 20 miles away from the town of Port St George. It was a tiny community with some all-year residents, but most of the houses were owned by city dwellers who only visited for a few weeks in the summer. Some of the cottages were rented out to families during holidays, though as it was still out of season Carter was hoping it would be nice and quiet. He had no wish to get drawn into village activities and certainly didn’t want to get woken up in the mornings by screaming kids playing on the beach out front.

  With a grunt, he slowly eased himself out of the Jeep and checked the instructions Nathan had given him. He hoped to hell this was the right house so he didn’t set off any alarms or woke up the residents. He could really do without having to explain to the local police who he was and why he had a weapons locker in the trunk of his car. He had all the necessary permits and his guns were stored correctly, but he didn’t need the aggravation or attention.

  He fished out the key Nathan had provided him with, as well as instructions for the alarm along with the code to punch in. It was still dark, he couldn’t really see what the house looked like from the outside, or see the beach, but he could hear the surf and it already had a calming effect on his mind.

  He walked up the steps to the front door and said a silent prayer he was at the right place. When the key turned in the lock and the door swung open, he drew a sigh of relief and stepped inside. Flipping on some lights he quickly located the alarm panel and entered the code. The beeping noise stopped and the little light on the box flashed to green.

  Carter didn’t bother unpacking as he’d only brought one bag and just found his way to the the main bedroom where Nathan had told him he could sleep. The bed linen was fresh after the cleaners had been in to sort everything out for his arrival. Apparently, they came every two weeks when Nathan wasn’t there to keep everything dusted and vacuumed, but Carter had said he would do it while he was staying. He didn’t want strangers in the house and was perfectly capable of keeping it clean himself.

  He threw his duffel on the floor next to the bed, set an alarm on his cell, and after getting undressed down to his boxers, he slid in between the cool sheets and went straight to sleep. He‘d just driven 900 miles with a bullet hole in his leg that had only just started to heal, and he was exhausted.

  It wasn’t long before the nightmares came slithering into his head and made him thrash and writhe on the bed. The sheets got all tangled around his body, but he was too worn out to pull himself out of the hellish dreams and just suffered through them until they went away again.

  A beeping sound pulled Carter from his deep sleep and with a loud groan, he reached out his hand to silence his phone. He sat up in the bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Slowly, they got used to the bright light in the room and he realized he hadn’t pulled the curtains over the windows. Outside, he could hear seagulls squawking and the ocean rushing over the sandy beach. He planted his feet on the floor and gingerly stood up, keeping as much weight on his right leg as possible. Carefully, he stepped over to the window and got a first look of the glittering sea. The sun’s golden rays danced across the blue waters and the white sand was almost blinding in the sunshine. He opened the window and took a deep breath of fresh sea air. He’d always loved being near water and couldn’t imagine not living near a lake or the ocean.

  Carter leaned out of the window and looked up and down the beach that seemed to stretch forever in each direction. There were a couple of houses on each side of him, but all seemed deserted and were set well away from each other. He could see a couple of people in the distance walking in the direction of the village, but other than that, he was all alone. He could almost feel the stress and tension of the last few months seep out of his body to be replaced with a soothing calm and relief.

  Carter turned away from the window to unpack his duffel and take a quick shower before driving into the village for some groceries and supplies.

  Holy fuck. That hurt! He exclaimed loudly as his weak leg almost gave out from under him when he picked up the bag. He really had to work on strengthening that leg and get it to heal as quickly as possible. He hated not being in top physical condition and needed to get himself sorted sooner rather than later. If he could bring back the fuckwad who’d shot him and kill him — again — he would, just to make himself feel better. He’d managed to double-tap him, but not before the bastard had gotten off a lucky shot himself. Fortunately, it had been a through and through, however, the bullet had nicked his femur on the way out which was causing him the pain. Some nerves had been damaged and he’d probably always have some pain, but he could live with that. As long as he could get back to his job and not be hindered by the injury. Of course, he’d have to convince the agency doc that he was back to fighting condition which, in his opinion, shouldn't be too much of a problem.

  After having picked up some food, drink and other necessities in the little beachside community, Carter spent the rest of the evening just taking it easy. He went for a long walk along the beach as the sun was setting and was pleased to not meet a soul. There was only one small cottage standing on its own half way along the peninsula and there were a few lights on in the approaching darkness, so Carter assumed it must be occupied by someone. He wasn’t going to knock on the door and introduce himself, though, so he just walked past by the edge of the shore without casting more than a glance at the porch facing the water. It seemed well looked after and he hoped that whoever lived there enjoyed the isolation and wouldn't be coming looking for company. That was the last thing he needed.

  When he returned to his temporary home, night had almost fallen and he was glad to be back indoors. He cooked himself a quick meal of steak and salad and ate it on the back deck with only the surf and cicadas as accompaniment. He stayed in his chair for several hours just letting his mind roam freely. He had a beer in his hand and took the occasional sip, but had no need for the buzz of alcohol. When his eyelids started to droop, he figured it was time for bed and locked up before heading upstairs. Once again, he set his alarm with the intention of taking another walk in the morning according to the instructions he’d been given by the doc back in Virginia. He had a whole schedule worked out for him, but he was going to do it at his own pace, which was probably a bit more punishing than what the physio had ordered.

  Chapter Two

  No, no, no. Please, don’t. Please! It hurts! Let me go! I won’t do it again, I promise. Please, just let me go! No, don’t shut me in there! It’s too dark, I can’t breathe. I don’t want to be in there. Please, don’t make me!”

  Madison sat bolt upright in bed, a scream still echoing from her lips. She stared wildly around the room lit only by a small lamp in the window. Sweat covered her skin and her chest rose up and down in great big heaves. Tears streamed down her face and dripped onto the sheet gripped tightly in her fists. After a few long seconds, she slowly go
t her bearings and managed to suck some air into her oxygen starved lungs. The fear and panic subsided, but still lingered in her chest, and she knew they would never go away completely. It was only a dream, you’re safe — for now. Calm down or you’ll have another panic attack. Breathe. Just breathe. Her breathing returned to somewhat more normal while her pulse still beat crazily in her throat. She threw her bedding off and wrapped a dressing gown over her sleep camisole and shorts set. Cinching the sash tight around her small waist, she fumbled in the darkened room to find her slippers and nearly tripped over her flip flops instead. Cursing under her breath, she slipped the shoes on and padded out into the kitchen to get a glass of water. The sound of the water from the tap was noisy in the still night. Not feeling like going back to bed she stepped out onto the veranda and sank down on the comfortable couch. With a throw over her legs she closed her eyes and filled her mind with the sound of the ocean surf against the beach. It was a perfect way to combat the harrowing images that wanted to burrow their way out of the dark recesses of her mind where she tried to shut them away. A cool breeze flowed across her face and caught a few wisps of her long, tousled hair. Snuggling down deep in the soft cushions she focused on the sounds from the beach and tried to relax. It took her a long while, but just as the horizon started to change color she finally fell asleep.