Kay David - Not Without Cause

A family and a husband, not to mention children, were not in her future and they never would be. She’d traded those things for adrenaline and power, and it was way too late to go back and make changes.

If she’d ever had a chance at having any of those things, it would have been with Haden. He’d been wild, but under the craziness there had been a rock-solid man she’d come to care for more than she’d expected. More than anyone she’d ever cared for before—or since. He’d been special and rare—one of those guys who caught you unaware when you’d decided no one else could possibly surprise you.

For a single second she wanted to walk away and ignore the decision she’d wrestled with for the past five hours, but she knew that wasn’t a real option.

If she didn’t take the job, then someone else would.

Haden was a dead man walking.

Dear Reader,

In philosophical circles around the world, debates have raged since Aristotle’s times over the “greater good” versus the rule of self-interest. What is best for society as a whole can sometimes differ from what is best for an individual. In other words, if the city wants to put a new highway through your backyard, the commuters will be thrilled, but you might not be quite as happy.

Extrapolate this argument into a life-and-death situation and you have the basis for THE OPERATIVES series and especially for Not Without Cause. The question I wanted to examine was this one: If a war could be ended by killing one individual—and thereby saving the lives of thousands—what should be done? Just to complicate matters, since I write love stories, I added another issue to the mix, as well. What if the someone who had to be killed was someone you loved?

Not Without Cause is the story of how two people come together, despite their opposition, and work to achieve what is best. In the process, their love grows even stronger and they realize how deep their feelings for each other—and for their country—really run. When the choices are this tough, nothing is easy.

I wanted the final story in THE OPERATIVES series to be a special one. I needed to write something that was entertaining but at the same time presented some questions that would make everyone think a bit. Our world is changing daily—hourly, in fact—and some very hard choices are being made. The sacrifices those decisions entail aren’t easy ones because they touch the rights and truths we all hold dear.

Meredith and Haden understand that emotions come with a price, and their willingness to pay that price is a testament to the power of love, be it their love for each other, their love for freedom, or their love for their country. Sharing their story with my readers is my way for sharing that love, as well. I hope you enjoy Not Without Cause.

Kay David

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to the men and women who have served in the United States military forces, present, past and future.

Thank you for your courage, your sacrifice and your dedication.

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Guatemala City, Guatemala

May 2006

JACK HADEN HAD the taxi driver drop him three blocks from his rented villa. Walking down the dimly lit sidewalk, scanning the gloom, his weapon handy, he found himself wondering how it would feel to have a regular job with two kids and a dog and a wife all waiting for him in a nice little home on a nice wide street.

What would it be like not to worry about someone following you and shooting you in the back? Haden had a hunch he’d never know, but more and more lately, the question had been on his mind.

The idea plagued him for a second longer, then he wondered why he was even wondering. He was forty years old and he’d lived on the edge since the day he’d left his mother’s home. If things ever did change, he’d probably end up restless, screw the nanny and start drinking like a fish.

Either way, he wasn’t going to have a chance to find out so why was he even thinking about it?

He turned down the street one block south of his house. Shadows clung to the houses and lay across the walls like woven chamarras. Guatemala City was always dark, even when the street lamps were on. Back in the nineties when the political situation had been even crazier than it was now, the powers that be had kept it that way for a reason, and although things had changed—slightly—the place was still blacker than hell, literally and metaphorically speaking.

Even in Zona 10.

Divided into sectors for ease of reference, Guatemala City had a personality of its own and each area had a unique flavor as well. Zona 10, where he’d had dinner, was upscale all the way and it housed the offices and shops the foreigners frequented. The restaurants were typically more expensive, the streets were generally cleaner and the neighborhoods were usually safer. A lot of the diplomats lived in Zona 10. He’d attended a party there last week at the French ambassador’s home. Haden wasn’t quite sure why he’d been included—except his name had gotten on a list when he’d first moved to Guatemala City and the list had been passed around. For years he’d had somewhere to go every night if he wanted. No one knew what, or who, he actually was and most of the time he passed on the invitations, but that night he’d been ready for some company, his mood overtaking his usual reluctance to mingle with expats who had little to do and even less to say.

Still, the guy from Washington had taken him by surprise.

“So you work at the American Embassy, huh?” he’d asked, the bourbon in his hand obviously not his first. Their hostess had introduced the man to Haden as Brad Prescott, a communications engineer in town for work. “What are you, a spy or something?”

Haden had had a smart-aleck answer ready but at the last minute, he’d stuck with his normal cover story. “I wish! Nah, my job’s not that glamorous. I’m just a computer technician.”

Prescott had nodded, then stirred his drink with his finger and licked it with a sloppy motion. “Too bad,” he’d mumbled. “I thought you might know someone I know back in Washington.” He’d leaned closer, a whiff of cigarette smoke coming with him as his voice dropped in a self-important way. “He’s with the Agency and he’s a ruthless SOB. We’re partners in a little start-up venture I’m handling.”

Haden had pursued the conversation because he’d had nothing better to do. “Who is he? You never know, he could be my old neighbor or something.”

The tall blonde laughed in a condescending manner. “I doubt that. This guy doesn’t have neighbors or friends. He’s too rich for either, but I don’t think he’ll have that little problem much longer. I’m gonna help him out in that department.”

“Well, what’s his name anyway? Maybe I’ve worked on his computer,” Haden joked.

Prescott shook his head again. “Dean Reynolds with a computer? He doesn’t need a computer, he’s half machine himself!” Prescott had muttered something else then stumbled off, Haden watching until the man had been absorbed into the crowd.

He’d been with the CIA too long because Haden immediately assumed he was being set up. He’d studied Prescott for another hour, then followed the man when the party was over. Prescott had gone directly to the Marriott and as far as Haden could tell, had stayed there the rest of the night. The next day, Haden had paid his way past security and searched the engineer’s hotel room but found nothing.