Operation Summer Storm Read Online Free PDF

chair.
    Terrified, she felt tremors rake her body as she looked up at her captor. He stared down at her through an evil looking ski mask—her eyes wide with terror, fixed upon him fearfully. With a slow, deliberate movement, he removed the mask and she found herself face to face…with Tate Maddox.
    “Lesson one,” he told her in a steel-edged voice. “Never let your guard down.” Leaning forward he removed the gag and nodded for someone behind to untie her hands.
    Shaking uncontrollably, the color drained from her face and waves of nausea rolled through her stomach. She would not give him the satisfaction of being sick all over the floor. After a few moments, she had herself back under control and was able to hold his unflinching gaze with one of her own.
    “Take the fear you just experienced, multiply it by a thousand and you still won’t come close to going through what would happen if we were Tréago’s men or Cambodian guerrilla’s. We spared you the rapes and beatings but I think you get the picture.”
    If she was supposed to be eternally grateful by that show of benevolence they were sadly mistaken.
    “Do you understand now why you can’t come with us?” Tate towered over her, a tall menacing presence, as he waited for an answer.
    “What I understand,” Summer’s voice sounded husky from her earlier screaming, “is that you’re wasting precious time with your stupid games when you should be finding my sister.” She fixed him with a look of undisguised loathing.
    His jaw clenched; his large fists bunched at his sides as he turned away—pausing, as she spoke in a low steady voice.
    “Make no mistake—if you ever do that to me again…I swear to God I’ll kill you.” Something had changed inside her. She’d believed she’d stared death in the eye and knew she’d do whatever it took to ensure it never happened again.
    Before tonight, he may have simply laughed her remark off. The way he held her gaze now though—that long measured stare, told her that he understood.
    “We move out in a few hours. Get some rest while you can.” He turned and left the room.
    Looking about her, she realized, through the darkness, that it was the same room she’d been in earlier that day. Her terrified mind hadn’t registered the fact earlier, something that would have prepared her for the relief of discovering it hadn’t been Tréago after all. It did nothing to calm her shell-shocked emotions though, and she wondered if she’d ever be able to stop shaking.
    * * * *
    Outside in the dark, Tate stood bracing his body against the railing. He looked up and saw Del as he walked toward him.
    “I thought she’d back out,” he muttered in disgust.
    Del gave his friend a slap on the back. “Well, she proved she isn’t going to fold in a hurry,” he said, rubbing his chin gingerly as he recalled the swift kick he’d been too slow to intercept. “At least that’s something.”
    “How the hell do we take a civilian in on a job?” Tate demanded.
    He’d seen the precise instant when a look of complete hatred replaced the terror in her eyes and for a split second felt guilt rear up and kicked him in the gut. She needed to be taught a lesson—shown that her stupid idea of tagging along with them was completely unreasonable, not to mention unprofessional. The fact that she had their balls in her hand and knew damn well she could apply the pressure because she had the evidence they needed, was like a burr beneath his skin; it rubbed and irritated and was as much an insult as it was an inconvenience.
    Desperate times had called for desperate measures—but he wouldn’t lower himself to torturing the information out of her. He refused to become the type of animal that could blur the line between right and wrong. He wasn’t that kind of man and never would be.
    Del gave a brief shrug. “We’ve done it before, back in the service.”
    “This is a woman, for God’s sake.”
    “We’ll manage—we always