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  Bound by Steel

  Steel Corps Book Four

  J. B. Havens

  Bound by Steel

  Copyright ©2017 J.B. Havens

  All Rights Reserved.

  Bound by Steel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Playlist

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  About the Author

  Connect With Me!

  Acknowledgments

  As always, I want to thank my husband for his unending support. Thank you, honey, for taking care of the kids and working so hard, always being there for me, and yelling at me when I need it. One day, I’ll buy you that Viking range.

  Connie, you’re the best editor and cheerleader a humble writer like myself could ever ask for. You push me to be better, both as a writer and as a person. Thank you.

  Sam, Jess, and Jules. The dream team! I’m so fortunate to be part of this amazing group. Thank you for all that you do.

  Kelle, my self-declared number one fan. And more than that, I’m proud to call you friend. I hope this book is everything you hope it to be.

  Kevin Luke, for your hard work on the cover art and your gun advice. Thanks!

  Lastly, YOU. My readers. Thank you for going on this journey with me, for loving these characters as much as I do.

  Playlist

  Each book has a playlist where I try my best to capture not just the theme of the book, but how I felt when I was writing it. This book for me is so much more than words can capture. Often, I find myself turning to music to put into words and tunes the feelings in my gut and heart. Here are just a few that I hope can say for me what my words cannot. I want to thank Kelle and all the wonderful fans in Steel Corps Stalkers for their suggestions for this list. Your loyalty and friendship mean the world to me.

  *fist bump*

  “Letters from Home” - John Michael Montgomery

  “Home” - Blake Shelton

  “Chicken Fried” - Zac Brown Band

  “American Soldier” - Toby Keith

  “Have you Forgotten?” Daryl Worley

  “Home” - Daughtry

  ‘Riding with Private Malone” - David Ball

  “In Color” - Jamey Johnson

  “8th of November” - Big & Rich

  “Traveling Soldier” - Dixie Chicks

  “Chalk Outline” - Three Days Grace

  “Lifeline” - Papa Roach

  “Cut the Cord” - Shinedown

  “Heathens” - Twenty One Pilots

  “The Boys are Back in Town” - Thin Lizzy

  Note from the author

  First of all, thanks for reading! I hope this book is everything you are hoping it will be. But, before you read on, I’d like to first explain something about this book. As some of you may know, Samantha A. Cole and I wrote two crossover novellas featuring the Trident Security and Steel Corps teams: No Way in Hell, Parts One and Two. After this collaboration, she wrote and released Absolving his Sins, which is the novel for a much loved character, T. Carter. Mic and the boys play a role in Carter’s story. Carter also makes an appearance in this book, with Ms. Cole’s blessing and support. Originally, I thought Bound by Steel would be released before Absolving his Sins, but since that didn’t happen, there are now some timeline inconsistencies between our books. Please keep that in mind while reading. If I had deleted Carter’s scenes from this book, important plot and character development would have been lost that I felt would have diminished the quality of the story. If you haven’t read Samantha A. Cole’s work, do yourself a favor and pick up her books.

  As always, thank you for going on this journey with me. I hope you love this book as much as I do.

  Sincerely,

  J.B.

  “All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.”

  Edmund Burke

  Chapter 1

  Christmas in Scotland. Sounds like something out of a fairy tale, but now it’s my reality. It has only been a year since we celebrated this holiday at the compound. Time is a strange thing; sometimes it passes quickly and at other times you can count your heartbeats like seconds, it ticks by so slowly. For me, for us, it seemed like a lifetime ago since we had last gathered together around the table toasting to a new year. It was bittersweet. Phillips was gone and his star had been packed into my Jeep in the shipping containers Jackson had sent over. It now hung in our new war room with a photo of us under it. We were huddled together, paintball guns clutched in our hands; each of us were speckled with different colors. We needed a new photograph—one that included Rook, Jordon, and Nickoli.

  I put my coffee cup in the sink and left the kitchen. Maggie, our in-house cook and housekeeper, liked for us to at least put our dishes in the sink. On her first day, she’d found coffee mugs and soup bowls in the war room and she’d thrown them away. If ya think I’m going ta pick up after you lot like bairns, you can bloody well think again! Put your dishes in the sink or lose them fer good.

  I had liked her immediately. Flynn did his best to stay out of her way. She was in her fifties, or so we guessed, since she refused to tell us her age. And she always seemed to have a wooden spoon at hand when baked goods were cooling on the granite counters. Flynn had the bruised knuckles to show for it. We’d hired her from the nearby village after the fourth straight night of chili from a can. I’d taken the Jeep into town and posted a help-wanted notice. We hired Maggie two days later and have been living in fear ever since. I couldn’t wait to see how Aunt Beatrice was going to react to her.

  Nickoli had arrived only two weeks ago with a new steel and carbon-fiber leg. He was still a bit unsteady on his feet and refused any offer of assistance. After his beating, we’d heard nothing more from Russia. Nickoli assured us that he hadn’t said a word about our whereabouts; in fact, at the time, he didn’t know where we were. He was a different man, both in body and spirit. Rook was taking it hard, blaming himself. As if he could have known Nickoli would lose his leg. There was nothing any of us could have done. I understood his guilt well; Phillips’s face flashed in my mind.

  Rozalina had moved into Rook’s bedroom a few weeks after she arrived. She was very quiet, but when she did speak, it was worth listening to. We were all working with her, training her in hand-to-hand defense and weapons. This was a business now and security was of the utmost importance. We couldn’t afford a weak link. She was taking to it like a pro, her sparring sessions with Rook becoming entertainment for us all. Watching her come out of her shell was amazing to see.

  I walked past the war room where Jones was teaching Nick
oli how his set-up worked. The Russian had shown a proficiency for technology and was going to be our second resident geek. The custom security system Jones had installed required regular skilled maintenance and constant monitoring, so Nickoli was quickly coming in handy. He was typically quiet, not speaking unless spoken to. His new prosthetic leg slowed him down and he walked with the aid of a cane, which also came in handy when Flynn started in on Nickoli with the pirate jokes. It was not unusual to hear Flynn cursing in response to the impact of the cane. To retaliate, Flynn kept leaving eye-patches and stuffed parrots in Nickoli’s room. Nickoli would put the eye-patches on the parrots and place them all over the castle. It was hilarious. Castle Steel was beginning to look like a swashbuckling aviary.

  Heading through the grand foyer and up the stairs, I entered the bedroom Jordon and I shared. Or Chris, rather. When we were in this room, we were just Bea and Chris. Two people in love. Shock and awe, that one. I was still getting used to it. We’d added all new furniture, selling or donating most of the antiques scattered around the giant castle. I still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that I was living in a castle and would never go back to the United States.

  “Morning, babe.” Chris rolled onto his back and stretched, his muscles taut under his golden skin. This was a sight I didn’t think I would ever tire of—seeing Chris in my bed. The early morning sunlight was shining through the windows, casting a glow on his stomach and abs.

  “Morning yourself. It’s zero nine hundred. You slept in.” I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorjamb, enjoying the view of him scrambling out of bed naked, frantically jerking on his pants.

  “Why didn’t you wake me up, dammit?” He shimmied the rest of the way into his pants, buttoning them up and pulling on a shirt.

  No boxers, huh? Nice…

  “The schedule is light today; you were up late. I thought I’d be nice and let you sleep in.”

  “It’s your fault I was up late.” He smirked and pulled a hoodie on over his shirt, flicking on the light in the adjoining bathroom.

  “Is that so? If I remember correctly, Corporal, it was you who started it.” Right after dinner, he had dragged me upstairs by the hand and thrown me on the bed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him get undressed as fast as last night. He had pulled me to my knees by my shoulders and plunged into my mouth. Everything after that was a blur of sweaty bodies and groans of pleasure.

  “Ha! I don’t think so. Don’t you remember dinner?”

  I blushed against my will. He was right, I did sort of start things at dinner.

  “Pass the salt will ya?” Flynn reached his hand out, accepting the shaker from Pierce.

  “What’s on the schedule for tomorrow?”

  “Winter training for us and no new clients until after the holidays. We get a little time off, boys. Enjoy it.” I buttered the homemade bread resting on the side of my plate. It was still warm from the oven. We were all going to need more PT if Maggie kept cooking like this.

  “We all know how you’re going to celebrate the New Year, Mic.” Flynn wiggled his eyebrows.

  Jordon was seated on my right and Rook and Roza were on my left. Pierce, Flynn, Jones, and Nickoli were across from us. We had special ordered this table from a local craftsman. The long dining room table was walnut with cherry inlays, a true work of art.

  “You’re just pissed you can’t get that bartender with the pretty mouth in the village to give you the time of day, Flynn.” Jordon smarted off.

  “She does have a gorgeous mouth.” Pierce chimed in.

  “Really? I mean, fucking really, guys? Is this what we’re going to talk about?” I deliberately scraped my fork on my plate, knowing the noise grated on Flynn’s nerves.

  “We could talk about your mouth.” He grinned around a bite of roast beef, slipping the fork out of his mouth as slowly as possible.

  Jordon moved to stand, but I stopped him with a hand on his thigh. “You just wish you knew how good it could be.” I licked my lips slowly, exaggerating the movement. Picking up my fork and taking a bite, I moaned in fake ecstasy, pulling the utensil from my mouth a tiny bit at a time. “Oh God, it tastes so good.”

  Flynn swallowed harshly and I felt Jordon’s thigh tense under my hand. Not looking at him, I slid my hand down the inside of his thigh and up between his legs. He was hot and hard; even through the material of his pants I could feel his heat.

  “Okay, I guess I did start it.” I chuckled and walked closer to him, pressing my body against his back near the sink. “I didn’t hear you complaining though.”

  “No man in his right mind would, woman.” He patted my arms and pulled away, wiping his face with a towel, grinning at me in the mirror. His smile with the dimples and slightly crooked front teeth stopped my heart. Joy and love shone out of his eyes like a beacon.

  What did I ever do to be so lucky to hold this man’s heart?

  “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “No reason. I just like looking at you.” I brushed my fingertips down his back and left him alone to finish in the bathroom. “Come down to the war room when you’re done here.”

  “Yes, Staff Sergeant.” He winked and shut the door on my answering grin.

  ****

  Nickoli sat in the office chair and forced himself not to rub his leg. Propping his cane against the table next to him, he took a few breaths while he waited for the sensation to pass. The tingling and shooting pains were better when he had his prosthesis on, but the phantom pain was awful. He felt like he could wiggle his toes even though he didn’t have them anymore. He glanced over at Jones, who was busy configuring the newest cameras they’d installed around the guest cabins. That Jones had installed rather, since climbing a ladder was beyond him at the moment. Getting to the toilet without falling over was challenge enough. It was best to keep his feet—foot—on the ground.

  “Doing alright there, Nick?” Jones looked over his shoulder at him.

  “Da. I’m fine.” His accent was disappearing more each day. Even Roza was speaking English most of the time.

  “Sure? Because you’re rubbing your thigh again. If you need to go take it off and have a break, go.”

  Nickoli snarled. “No. I said I was fine and I meant it.” He knew he was being a dick, but the pain and coddling were making him mean at times.

  Jones didn’t respond; he just turned back to his work. A few moments later, the CCTV feed from one of the new cameras popped up on the monitor that streamed the images from all of the cameras on the property. It was taking a while to get them installed because they had to be special ordered to handle the climate.

  “Nick, here. I want you to cycle through the feeds and rotate all the cameras. I’ll be back in a bit.”

  “Da.” Manipulating the joystick and keys, he quickly tested all of the cameras. Each one was working just as it should. With this set-up, they could observe nearly every inch of the castle and grounds. They had motion-activated infrared game cameras in the woods along with motion sensors that would set off an alarm if anything bigger than a deer ran through. At first, Jones had configured it to be more sensitive, but a variety of wildlife kept waking them up at all hours of the night. Now the state-of-the-art microchip in the camera fed the image into the computer, which used recognition software to determine whether it was wildlife or human. They’d slept much better since the update.

  Along with upgraded pick-proof locks, they’d installed a security system similar to what had been in the Wonka House. They had considered using a biometric system, but it was too much of a pain for daily use. Instead, if the alarm was triggered, electro-magnets in the doors and windows locked the entire castle down. Steel shutters rated to withstand a fifty-caliber round dropped over the windows. No one would get in or out without the aid of a tank.

  The upgrades had been completed a few weeks ago and had taken much of their capital. Mic refused to cut any corners on security and Jones agreed. They would re-coup most of their investment with the
survivalist training they were doing. Already they were booked for the next six months. Government agencies and elite private security companies were sending their people over for top-level training. Who wouldn’t want their staff taught by the best former soldiers in the world?

  Nickoli was snapped out of his thoughts by the arrival of Mic and Jordon. Rook and Roza were a few steps behind. Jordon sat down next to him, a cup of coffee clutched in his hand. Pierce and Flynn staggered in; they’d been up late the night before getting the last of the clients to the airport.

  “Okay ladies, settle down. Let’s get this meeting underway.” Mic stood at the head of the table, palms flat against the wooden surface. “Jones and Nickoli, report.”

  Jones glanced at Nickoli, but he shook his head, letting the Texan speak instead.

  “Last of the cameras were installed this morning. All systems are now fully operational. I had a chat with Egghead last night; I needed his help on some of the code for the auxiliary backup systems. He said he might come over after the holidays and check out our set-up for Trident.”

  “Always good to make your friends envious of your gear, I suppose.” Flynn spun back and forth in his chair, nearly knocking the coffee out of Pierce’s hand.

  “Watch it, fucker!” He walloped Flynn on the back of the head.

  “Will you two knock it off? For fucks sake, it’s like you’re children.” Mic rolled her eyes and waited for them to shut up. “The last of the clients are gone, so today we’re going to do some winter combat training.” She pulled a white and grey suit from under the table and tossed it down in front of them. It included pants, jacket, and helmet, with grey stripes bisecting the otherwise white suit every few inches. She held a yellow rifle in her other hand. “We’re doing Trident a favor. The R&D division of the Marines sent this to them for testing. They liked it, but it needs to be vetted in all weather conditions—including snow. The electrodes might be affected by the temperature. Since it doesn’t exactly get cold in Tampa, they want us to do it. If we like it, we keep it. The rifle is the same weight as a standard M4. It recoils and you re-load by pressing the buttons on the side in the correct sequence. On average, it takes the same amount of time to enter the code as it does to re-load.” She passed the rifle to Rook, who inspected it carefully before sending it down the table. “Everyone will get a rifle and suit. They are already programmed for two teams, red team and blue team. When you are hit, the suit will show a hit with the color it was received by. For example, if blue team shoots you, you get a blue dot where you’ve been hit and vice-versa. Kill shots are orange. Any questions?”