Excerpt & Giveaway: Beyond Limits by Laura Griffin
Beyond
Limits
The Tracers Series #8
The Tracers Series #8
By:
Laura Griffin
Releasing
January 27th,
2015
Pocket
Books
Blurb
FBI
agent Elizabeth LeBlanc is still caught in the aftermath of her last
big case when she runs into the one man from her past who is sure to
rock her equilibrium even more. Navy SEAL Derek Vaughn is back home
from a harrowing rescue mission in which he found evidence of a
secret terror cell on US soil. Elizabeth knows he’ll do anything to
unravel the plot—including seducing her for information. And
despite the risks involved, she’s tempted to let him. . . .
On the
surface Derek’s offering a simple deal—Elizabeth provides him
with intel, he delivers the terrorist. But he knows nothing about
Elizabeth is easy, and now their volatile relationship threatens to
distract him from the most important mission of his career. Together
with the forensics experts at the Delphi Center, he and Elizabeth are
closing in on the truth, but it may not be fast enough to avert a
devastating impending attack . . . or stop a ruthless enemy from
escaping to kill again.
Excerpt
It was
full-on rush hour by the time Elizabeth reached the city, so she
crossed Starbucks off her list, although she sorely needed caffeine.
Even without the call-out, she’d had a bad night. Most of it had
been spent curled on her sofa, flipping channels and determinedly
avoiding CNN as she downed chamomile tea, which was supposedly a
natural sleep aid. After weeks of drinking the stuff, she’d
discovered it worked great when accompanied by Ambien.
She
pulled into the bunker-like parking garage and found a space.
Flipping down the vanity mirror, she checked for any telltale signs
of fogginess. Her eyes were bloodshot, her skin sallow. She smoothed
her ponytail and fluffed her new bangs. She’d had them cut a few
months ago in an effort to hide her scar, but she wasn’t crazy
about the look. A little too schoolgirl, which wasn’t helpful. As a
five-four blonde, she already had enough trouble getting people to
take her seriously.
She
flipped up the mirror, disgusted. She had more important things to
worry about today than her appearance. Such as her boss’s reaction
when he heard about the murder of her newly recruited informant.
Elizabeth’s
stomach tightened with nerves as she walked into the office and rode
up the elevator. The doors slid open. She made her way toward her
cubicle and saw Maxwell talking to a pair of agents outside his
office. He’d probably heard by now. Would he dress her down at the
staff meeting or call her into his office beforehand?
He
spotted her, and the grim look on his face told her he’d received
the news. Elizabeth changed course, bracing herself for a blast of
criticism as she approached.
“Sir,
I need to talk to you about—”
“Save
it. You’ve got a visitor.” He tipped his head toward one of the
men standing nearby.
“Hello,
Elizabeth.”
She
blinked at him, taken aback. “Gordon. What—”
“Feel
free to use my office,” Maxwell told him, then gave her a sharp
nod. “We’ll talk later.”
Gordon
watched her, his look unreadable. He was based in Washington, but if
he’d spent the morning on an airplane, you’d never know it from
his immaculate suit and shiny wingtips. Agents who worked for him
sometimes called him “Wall Street,” and she hadn’t figured out
whether it was because of his clothes or because his all-business
demeanor reminded them of Gordon Gecko.
He
gestured toward the empty office. “After you.”
Polite
as always. She stepped inside and felt a chill down her spine as the
door thudded shut. She glanced through the window into the bullpen
and caught the baffled looks of her coworkers, who were obviously
wondering why the Bureau’s newly promoted assistant director of
counterterrorism wanted to see her.
Gordon
tucked his hands into his pockets and stepped past Maxwell’s desk.
He had an athletic build, good posture. His salt-and-pepper hair was
trimmed short, as she remembered it. Despite the demands of his job,
he took care of himself.
He turned to look at her. “How have you been?”
He turned to look at her. “How have you been?”
She
started to say “Fine” but remembered something else she’d
learned about him a year ago. He was a human lie detector.
“Busy,”
she said.
He
lifted an eyebrow, then turned to study Maxwell’s ego wall, which
featured his Princeton diplomas, along with several framed photos of
him rubbing elbows with VIPs: the FBI director, a few senators, the
Texas governor.
“Have
you been following the news out of Afghanistan?”
She
cleared her throat. “You mean the hostages?”
“Yes.”
“The
newspaper said they were rescued by NATO forces.”
The
paper hadn’t specified what type of forces. But since meeting a
SEAL team last summer, Elizabeth had been paying close attention and
had learned to read between the lines. A team of commandos storming a
compound and plucking civilians from the hands of Taliban insurgents?
The mission had SEAL written all over it.
“Many
of the details weren’t made public.” Gordon turned to face her.
“The team that conducted the raid recovered some interesting info
during their SSE sweep.”
SSE.
She racked her brain.
“Sensitive
site exploitation,” he provided.
“You
mean computers?”
“A
laptop, a thumb drive. The information there was surprisingly
minimal, but they also collected a cache of papers, including several
detailed maps of Houston.”
Houston.
Not D.C., not New York, but Houston, Texas. Elizabeth’s palms felt
sweaty and she tucked them into her pockets. “What’s in Houston?”
He
smiled slightly. “You mean besides six million people? Three major
sports venues, a world-renowned medical center, a Christian
megachurch.” He sat on the edge of Maxwell’s desk. “Not to
mention the corporate headquarters of some of the world’s largest
energy companies.”
She
clamped her mouth shut. Maybe she’d look less ignorant if she let
him talk.
“It
was a take-no-prisoners raid,” he continued. “However, when the
commandos saw this cache of intel, they grabbed a young man who’d
been subdued, hoping some of our CIA guys could persuade him to
talk.”
“Did
they?”
His
mouth tightened. “He’s no longer cooperating.”
What
did that mean, exactly?
“And
unfortunately, after poring through all the intel, our analysts
believe the terrorists planning the attack were not in the compound
when the raid went down. As far as we know, they’re still at
large.” He paused and watched her. “Homeland Security’s staffed
up a joint task force to investigate this potential plot and
interrupt it.”
Elizabeth’s
mind was reeling. She’d admired Gordon since the day she’d met
him, both as an investigator and as a leader. The thought of working
with him again made her giddy and nervous and terrified all at the
same time.
He
stepped closer and gazed down at her.
“Your
SAC says you had a rough spring. He thinks you’re not up for this
assignment.”
Anger
welled in her chest.
“If
you join my team, I need to know that you’re one hundred percent.
Are you?”
“One
hundred and ten. Sir.”
He
held her gaze, the human lie detector. Her heart thudded so loudly
she could hear it. Time seemed to stretch out. He glanced at his
watch. “Be at San Antonio International Airport in two hours. Pack
light.”
Relief
flooded her. “We’re going to Houston?”
“California.
Naval Amphibious Base Coronado, to be precise.” He crossed the room
and reached for the door. “We need to interview some SEALs.”
Author
Info
New
York Times
and USA
Today
bestselling author LAURA GRIFFIN
started her career in journalism before venturing into the world of
romantic suspense. She is a two-time RITA Award winner (for the books
Scorched
and Whisper
of Warning)
as well as the recipient of the Daphne du Maurier Award (for
Untraceable).
Laura currently lives in Austin, where she is working on her next
book. Visit Laura at www.LauraGriffin.com
or Facebook.com/LauraGriffinAuthor
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