Mountain protector mt op.., p.1
Mountain Protector (MT Ops Book 1), page 1
eBooks are not transferable.
They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All Rights Reserved
Mountain Protector
MT Ops
Book 1
Copyright Em Petrova 2023
Ebook Edition
Electronic book publication 2023
Cover Art by Bookin’ It Designs
All rights reserved. Any violation of this will be prosecuted by the law.
SUBSCRIBE to Em Petrova’s Newsletter to keep up to date and for special reader features.
Knight Ops Series
ALL KNIGHTER
HEAT OF THE KNIGHT
HOT LOUISIANA KNIGHT
AFTER MIDKNIGHT
KNIGHT SHIFT
O’ CHRISTMAS KNIGHT
ANGEL OF THE KNIGHT
Ranger Ops
AT CLOSE RANGE
WITHIN RANGE
POINT BLANK RANGE
RANGE OF MOTION
TARGET IN RANGE
OUT OF RANGE
Xtreme Ops
HITTING XTREMES
TO THE XTREME
XTREME BEHAVIOR
XTREME AFFAIRS
XTREME MEASURES
XTREME PRESSURE
XTREME LIMITS
NORTH OF LOVE Xtreme Ops Alaska Search and Rescue
XTREME RULES
MT Ops
MOUNTAIN PROTECTOR
MOUNTAIN DEFENDER
MOUNTAIN KEEPER
When the stakes are as high as the mountains around them, falling is the only option…
Rafe Sheppard couldn’t join the Mountain Ops team fast enough. After all, it was the perfect opportunity to put his Marine training and passion for extreme sports to good use, and exorcise some personal demons in the process. He was ready for anything. Except her. Nothing could’ve prepared him for the gutsy skier who saw way more than she should’ve that day…
Zoe Brady had one last chance to medal for the US Alpine Ski Team, and she was training harder than ever. It was going perfectly, too. Until she witnessed a bombing and found herself under the protection of a sexy mountain man who cramps her style and reminds her of all she gave up in pursuit of Olympic gold…
It’s not long before Rafe and Zoe realize they’ll have to work together to survive the deadly terrain and take down the terrorist threat…all while navigating their white-hot attraction. But can they trust in each other—and in love—when it matters most?
Things heat up between a woman in peril and her mountain man protector in this steamy action and adventure romance! 1-CLICK your copy of MOUNTAIN PROTECTOR now!
Mountain
Protector
by
Em Petrova
Table of Contents
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
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
Chapter One
Rafe Sheppard kicked back in his chair, arms folded and legs extended. It was damn early, and he’d had one hell of a night.
First, there was a fourteen-ounce medium-rare steak involved. Along with that, a lot of whiskey, a game on the big screen…
And an overseas op he needed to forget.
After the team he always rooted for got knocked out of the running for the Superbowl, Rafe and his fellow Marines hit the local strip club, which meant he’d used up all of his mad money for the week.
On top of the dull throb in his head and about two hours of sleep after he stumbled back to base from the club, Rafe received the order to present himself to his commanding officer at 0600.
Only his CO wasn’t here yet, he didn’t have the energy for standing at attention, and lounging was the next best thing to sleeping, right?
Was it stupid to imbibe that much alcohol? Yes. Was it necessary for him and his platoon to let it all hang loose after the shit they just returned from? Hell yes.
His eyes were bleary, and he scrubbed his thumb and forefinger into the sockets until his vision cleared. Peering across the room, he made out the photos of several small kids behind his commanding officer’s desk. Three in total, each looking as much like a mini-version of their father as the last.
Kids. A life. Imagine having that.
Rafe was too fucking scarred. He’d forgotten what it was like to be a living, breathing man. He was a ghost with no life outside missions and only a grandma he was too embarrassed to go see for fear she’d see the animal he’d become.
Suddenly, the door cracked open behind him, and Rafe jolted to his feet. Squaring his shoulders and planting his boots, he stood at attention and waited for the ass-chewing he deserved.
He only received an: “At ease, Sergeant.”
He dropped into a relaxed pose, arms at his sides.
“Come with me.” Sergeant Major Truman was known for being a real dick—especially to Rafe’s platoon. Trainings were conducted in a special ring of hell for them, and the bar was held higher for every single Marine under Truman’s command.
When the man’s sharp stare landed on Rafe, he was still waiting to be dressed down for sitting, let alone lounging in the sergeant major’s office.
Rafe eyed him, without trying to seem flippant, while questions rolled through his brain thickened by too much alcohol, lack of sleep and looking at pussy. But when Truman walked out of the room, Rafe followed with all the respect due to a superior.
“Sir? Where are we going?”
Truman darted a look his way. “You’ll find out in a moment, Sheppard.”
He led the way into another room. Rafe hesitated at the sight of a man in a navy-blue uniform. The patch on his sleeve said Homeland Security.
This was new. He ran on instinct, and his senses were blaring that something big was about to happen—maybe even change his life.
Rafe strode to the center of the room and waited to find out what he was about to get involved in. Then he noticed a group of men lined up on the back wall. He didn’t recognize any of them, but he could pick out several Marines by their demeanor.
Truman waved a hand for him to take his place in the lineup.
Wishing he hadn’t spent so much time at the club or drank so many beers, he got in line with the others.
The guy next to him shifted his weight from boot to boot but went still when Truman faced them.
Truman half turned toward the guest. “Everyone, this is Robert Maxwell. He’s part of a division of Homeland Security known as Operation Freedom Flag.”
The hair on Rafe’s neck prickled. He’d heard rumors of a group of special forces units in the United States. He’d always thought they were only tall tales told in the barracks—not real.
But here stood a man who said they weren’t only rumors.
Maxwell didn’t waste any time speaking up. “Operation Freedom Flag involves special units placed strategically around the country for the express purpose of fighting terrorism, both foreign and homegrown.”
A rustle seemed to come from the men in line with Rafe, though nobody appeared to move.
“The six of you have been hand-selected and brought here because you possess the special skills we are looking for. Skills that you have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make you a nightmare for the people we are fighting against,” Maxwell went on.
Silence throbbed in Rafe’s ears. A new unit. He was being promoted?
His gaze snagged his commanding officer’s. Truman returned his stare while Maxwell continued to explain.
“Your base will be in the Cascade Mountains, men. The past few years, there’s been a lot of activity there. Explosives found in caves, militant groups formed. There’s a lot of chatter about more groups flocking to the region to hide and plan. We need a military presence in the mountains…but that comes with a new set of challenges we expect you to meet.”
Rafe’s neck prickled again. This time with excitement. The mountains were his thing. He was born and raised near the Rockies. He hunted and hiked in terrain; that was home to him. He also had a passion for extreme sports. What better playground than a region thick with volcanos, landslides and avalanches?
It sure suited him better than a night of booze and strippers.
“These mountains are among the most rugged. Conditions can be treacherous. You’ll be expected to climb walls of ice to catch a right-wing supremacist with plans for mass destruction. Or slog through thick mud to surround a small town taken hostage by a crazy environmentalist strapped with explosives.” Maxwell’s gaze slid from Rafe, down the line to each of the men. “I’ve seen your files and deemed you the right fit for this team.”
Maxwell’s gaze landed on Rafe. “Sergeant Rafe Sheppard, please step forward.”
As h e took a single step out of the perfectly straight line, his stomach roiled, and it wasn’t from too much alcohol. This challenge was exactly what he needed. For months, he’d been bored and stagnant, stuck in a rut that only brought more darkness.
“Men, meet your leader, Sergeant Rafe Sheppard.”
He almost swayed from the force of those words.
Leader.
Leader of a special forces unit that was the stuff of legends. His pride and a huge blast of patriotism threatened to overwhelm him, but he tamped down his emotions and gave Truman and Maxwell a stiff salute.
“Turn and meet your team, Sheppard. Welcome to Operation Freedom Flag Mountain Ops. You have twenty-four hours before you will board a plane. From there, you begin training in mountain warfare.” Maxwell nodded to Rafe. “Fighting in the mountains means throwing out every skill you were taught and trying twice as hard. Are you ready, Sheppard?”
“I’m ready…and honored to lead the unit, sir.”
In his twenty-four hours of freedom, what would he do? He wouldn’t return to the strip club or drink more with his buddies.
He didn’t have time to pay a visit to his grandma, his last living relative and the woman responsible for raising him to become the man he was. He’d just have to settle for calling her and praying she didn’t hear a change in his voice.
Maxwell extended a hand to Rafe. Meeting the man’s sharp gaze, he clasped it and gave it a hard squeeze.
“Welcome to an elite group of leaders. I expect nothing but your best and then some.”
“You have my word, sir.”
They broke their grip. Rafe turned to Truman and shook his hand too.
Truman gave him a nod. “Now you have an outlet for all that passion.”
Passion? More like suicidal tendencies.
“I’ll be damn sorry to lose you in the platoon, but the country is getting the best,” Truman went on with his praise.
Rafe’s chest burned with emotion. Then he turned to the men still standing in a line, awaiting their orders.
The men he would be leading into enemy fire and dangerous conditions.
He clapped his hands with the first hint of happiness he’d felt in far too long. “Let’s get started.”
The weather was fickle today, but Zoe had chosen the right skis for the slope. When she selected this set of skis for this particular run out of the twelve she traveled with, her ski coach raised a brow at her, but Zoe strapped them on with confidence.
She’d been pushing for her spot on the US Alpine Team long enough to know that gut instincts played a big role in the sport. Her gut instincts carved her path to the bottom of fifty mountains she regularly practiced on. It told her how far to push her speed and when to dial it down.
And it told her these were the perfect set of skis for the steepest slope in Washington state.
Wind howled at her back, propelling her even more. The faster she reached the bottom, the faster she could take the lift to the top and start all over again. If the wind stayed at her back, she’d be able to get another run in before darkness fell.
Her muscles hummed with exertion. Her brain hit what she called “the zone” and when she reached the base of the mountain in a spray of powder, her coach was there to offer feedback on what she already knew was a fantastic run.
Vic held up the stopwatch to show her the time. A big old grin split his rugged German features. “That’s my girl.”
She grinned back, still puffing from her run. “It felt good.”
“It was good. You’re going to make the team this time, Zoe.” His accent deepened with his emotion, touching her.
No one was more invested than Vic in her success. He’d been with her for a decade, using all his knowledge of the sport to drive her to reach her goal of going to the Olympics.
Her clock was ticking. She was almost too old, nearly at the end of her career. Pretty soon she’d be washed up, forced into becoming a ski instructor—because what else did an Olympic failure do? And she’d put on fifteen pounds from drinking all those hot toddies she’d need to keep doing a job she hated.
She held back the sigh that lodged in her chest. Now wasn’t the time for depressing thoughts of her future. She’d had a good run—great even. She couldn’t ask for better.
Twisting, she looked back up at the mountain. The jagged peak was almost invisible as night fell.
She could ask for better. Right now.
“I’m going back up,” she announced.
Vic shook his head. “It will be dark by the time you hit the slope, Zoe.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“The snow’s coming in too. Conditions will change.”
She lifted a ski pole to wave him off. “I’ll be fine. I’ve got my satellite phone.”
His gray eyes drilled into her. “You aren’t going to take my advice and head to the lodge for a drink, are you? You’re always the first one up the mountain, the last one off.”
The wind snatched the sound of her laughter as she turned for the lift once more. If it was running, she was skiing. The way her friends shut down the bar, she shut down the ski slope.
“You go on ahead. I’ll meet you there for that drink,” she told him.
He knew better than to argue with someone as stubborn as her and turned to go. Zoe struck off for the lift once more.
As she headed to the peak, her mind settled back into the space where all thought halted and she just allowed her body to take over. She only had a few more days left to train before the trials. She had to be at the top of her sport. This was her last chance to make the Olympic team.
She needed this for herself, for her coach, her parents…and Dan.
Her dear older brother would be cheering her on just the way she had cheered him in the biathlon at his own Winter Games.
If he were here, he’d be urging her to make that extra run.
Once her skis touched powder, she set the stopwatch on her own sports watch. Zoe’s mind blanked. She drew a deep breath…and dropped into the run. Passion meshed with speed. Her body took the turns without her mind guiding it. The swish in her ears was like a musical rhythm, urging her faster. Faster.
A small voice in her head said she’d never be able to hit this speed when it came to the upcoming trials, but her big brother Dan would tell her to shove that voice away, and she did.
By the time she came to a final stop, her heart knew she’d bested her last time before she ever glanced at her watch. Those little numbers shot exhilaration through her body. She let out a soft, “Yes!” and with a grin fixed on her face, she took off for the lodge.
She couldn’t wait to tease Vic for missing her fastest run yet on a slope known to best even the most skilled athletes. He liked to pretend that his first love was hot chocolate with whipped cream and chocolate shavings, but she knew she was his prodigy despite her advanced age of thirty.
Though her experience played a part in their relationship. When she refused to listen to him, he knew better than to push. He left her to her own devices and took himself off in search of that hot chocolate. She often teased him that if he stopped coaching, he could always earn a living by reviewing hot chocolate in lodges around the world.
A single star twinkled in the darkening sky. She hoped it promised good luck for the morning runs she had planned.
She rounded the building and spotted a man making off around the corner. He wore snow camo, the kind the military used.
She slowed her pace, peering through the thick shadows.
That camo was definitely something she didn’t see in a high-end resort like this where patrons lived in designer everything.
As she looked on, the man glanced back at her. Her heart hiccupped.
The man waved a hand in a signal that sent three more that she hadn’t seen racing off.
Zoe stopped in her tracks. Who were those men?
The sight of them running around the corner like that, and the military hand signal, caused her stomach to bottom out.
The low roar of an engine reached her, and suddenly the vehicle came racing around the corner. Headlights panned over her as the SUV sped past. Zoe threw herself against the building, but she didn’t escape the piercing stare of the man riding shotgun. Through the side window, their gazes locked.
