Bait
Duty & Honor # 2
Duty & Honor # 2
By: Leslie Jones
Releasing April 28th, 2015
Witness Impulse
Blurb
In the next thrilling Duty
& Honor novel, a female CIA agent and a Delta Force soldier must catch a
deadly assassin… but do they know where the danger truly lies?
After
several assassination attempts on an allied royal, the CIA sends in operative
Christina Madison—who bears a striking resemblance to the monarch—to pose as
the famous princess and draw out her would-be killer.
When
Delta Force Lieutenant Gabriel Morgan's team is assigned to Christina's
undercover protection detail, he's less than thrilled. Gabe wants nothing to do
with a woman whose rumored screw-up nearly got her last team killed. Not to
mention there's bad blood between Gabe and the CIA—he doesn't trust anyone who
lies for a living.
But
once the trap is set and the assassin takes the bait, Gabe must protect her
with his life … because danger lurks in the shadows, and now Christina is in
the crosshairs.
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Excerpt
Reports of
the assassination attempt on Princess Véronique de Savoie barely made a blip on
the news outside of Concordia. The tiny country rivaled Liechtenstein in size
and importance. As in, very damned little. Most would be hard-pressed to find
it on a map.
Inside the
CIA, however, the assassination attempt caused a ripple of reaction, starting
in the Office of the Director of National Intelligence, bypassing normal
channels, and landing directly on case officer Jay Spicer’s desk.
“You want me
to do what?” asked Christina Madison, eyes wide as she stared at her boss.
Jay Spicer
looked back at her. “Have you been in front of a mirror lately?”
“Sure I
have.” Every now and then, someone would comment on her eerie resemblance to
the princess of Concordia. Princess Véronique made headlines inside her own
country on a regular basis, though rarely outside of it. Concordian cameras and
reporters followed her as she labored on various humanitarian projects. She’d
been part of a BBC documentary last year on modern royalty in Europe, which
Christina had watched out of curiosity. The princess remained gracious in the
face of newshounds and paparazzi, even when elbow-deep in dirt planting a new
strain of bacteria-resistant corn in Ethiopia or bringing clean well water to
rural Bolivians.
Occasionally
a European visitor to the Washington, D.C., area would ask if she were, indeed,
the princess. Christina would laugh it off with a simple, “Don’t I wish.” Truth
be told, she much preferred her anonymous work bringing down money laundering
and smuggling operations. Having cameras shoved in her face and every word and
action dissected struck her as repugnant.
For the most
part, though, Véronique remained one of the royal unknowns.
Christina
grabbed a handful of Skittles from the crystal ashtray on Jay’s desk. Red and
yellow only. He’d already eaten the green and orange.
“Her face is
well known inside Concordia. Resembling someone and taking her place are two
different—”
“This comes
from the top,” her boss interrupted. “From the director himself. The British
government specifically asked for your help.”
Her head
began to whirl. The mandatory photographs of the president and CIA director
frowned down at her from behind his head. Boring pictures. Boring white walls.
The only interesting thing in the whole office was the life-sized cardboard
cutout of Captain America planted to the right of the door. “The British? Not
the Concordians? I don’t understand, sir.”
Jay leaned
forward in his chair and tugged at an earlobe, his ADHD making it impossible
for him to sit still. At fifty, he still managed to retain the air of an errant
schoolboy. He smirked, cracking his knuckles. Christina crossed her legs, not
fooled by his antics. Jay Spicer was a shrewd, brilliant case officer. He
counted on his façade to cause people to underestimate him. He would clarify
the situation in his own time.
“Princess
Véronique is engaged to a landed baron in the UK.”
“He has
enough clout to tap the CIA for help?”
“Sort of.”
Jay pushed a folder across his cluttered mahogany desk. The beige file sported
the banded red and large stamps indicating that it contained classified
information.
Christina
uncrossed her legs in order to lean forward and snag the folder. She flipped it
open. The top page contained a request from … Trevor Carswell?
Jay
rocked back, the chair squeaking. He grinned, tapping his fingers. “Julian
Brumley,
Leslie Jones
has been an IT geek, a graphic designer, and, much like her heroine, an Army
Intelligence officer, bringing her firsthand experience to the pages of her
works. She's lived in Alaska, Korea, Belgium, Germany, and other exotic
locations (including New Jersey). She is a wife, mother, and full-time writer
and splits her time between Scottsdale, Arizona, and Cincinnati, Ohio.
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