Read Walker (Bad Boys of X-Ops #1) for Free Online

bickering.
    Bad enough having to deal with Jade’s smartass comments. And kissing her seemed the only way to get her to shut her trap, not that I was complaining.
    “Seems there’s a goddamn international kill order on you.” I pointed at Madge. “Why?”
    “War and terrorists, always in the news. Not pacifists. Not peacekeepers. My husband hides behind me. Pins the dirty work on me . Calls himself Emir.” She made a vicious sound. “I spit on him.”
    I maintained my glare on her, unconvinced.
    “Jesus Christ, Walker. How can you be so blind? It’s a classic bait-and-switch move. Of course everyone has orders to kill Majedah. It’s always her name in the headlines. Her face in the news. But she’s not the one riling up the dissenters. Qasim Hassan is!” Jade’s frustration showed when she pounded back and forth in front of me, giving her fiery speech.
    “And you’re protecting her.”
    “You are too, now.” Jade stopped in front of me.
    “Fuck!” I didn’t know what to believe. Or which story was straight.
    I wanted the black and white. The kill shots. The packages neatly dusted or quietly delivered.
    “So that suicide bomber last night. You expect me to believe what? Your husband, Qasim, sent him?” I cut a glance to Madge. “Tried to publicly assassinate you? And got the wrong intel to all the agencies in case the attempt failed? Why?”
    “I know too much about him . . . and Hezbollah.” She spoke firmly and clearly. “My death would incite a public uprising. The beginning of the new civil war.”
    “Sounds like a fucking charmer, your husband.” Frowning heavily, I considered the information, weighed all the options.
    Madge uttered, “He is an azzhole , and I hope one day to pull the trigger on him.”
    Remind me not to get on her bad side. Jesus.
    Swinging around, I stomped to the cockpit. “Get us to a landing strip, Storm. Have a plane ready.”
    “I’m not handing the sheikah over, Walker.” Jade marched right after me and was waiting with another tongue-lashing.
    “And I’m not giving her up.”
    “You plan on taking us with you?”
    “Until we figure this shit out, yeah.”
    Jade’s lip curled. “I hope you know what kind of war you’ve gotten yourself into this time.”
    “It’s always war with you, Jade.”
    No fucking doubt.
    “I want my weapons back, Walker.”
    I contemplated her request for another thirty seconds or so then squatted down by the pile of gleaming metal—guns, blades, knuckle dusters, throwing stars, weren’t we a creative group?
    I started passing out the weaponry to its various owners, but Justice curled his lip. “You’re not seriously letting her walk around packing heat, are you?”
    “Way I see it, it’s the four of us guys against one and a half, if we’re including Madge. You scared, Jus?” I asked.
    I thought I saw steam pouring out of Madge’s ears at my little dig—she definitely wasn’t getting my spare gun this time.
    “I’m not the one who just made a deal with the devil.” Justice shoved his Heckler & Koch into a chest holster and sat on one of the jumpseats with his big legs spread and his big boots planted on the floor.
    “She-devil.” A grin manifested on my lips.
    And just like that, Jade hissed. But not before she systematically armed herself . . . to the eyeballs. Minus the RPG that hadn’t made it off the boat.
    Not long later, Storm set us down at an abandoned airfield outside of Baalbek, Lebanon.
    A stone-cold February night and not a soul in sight. And definitely no shiny private jet fueled up and ready to fly. The place was empty as a ghost town except for a line of sadly tilting corrugated metal hangars on one side of the airstrip.
    “How the hell are we supposed to hitch a ride from this place?” Hopping from the helicopter onto weed-cracked tarmac, I squinted at Storm.
    “Follow me.”
    We all carried heavy packs, silently casing the area for hidden tangos, but none appeared as Storm took us to the