Skystorm (Ryan Decker) Read online

  PRAISE FOR STEVEN KONKOLY

  THE RESCUE

  “Steven Konkoly’s new Ryan Decker series is a triumph—an action-thriller master class in spy craft, tension, and suspense. An absolute must-read for fans of Tom Clancy, Vince Flynn, and Brad Thor.”

  —Blake Crouch, New York Times bestselling author

  “The Rescue by Steven Konkoly has everything I love in a thriller—betrayal, murder, a badass investigator, and a man fueled by revenge.”

  —T.R. Ragan, New York Times bestselling author

  “The Rescue grabs you like a bear trap and never lets go. No one writes action sequences any better than Steve Konkoly—he drops his heroes into impossible situations and leaves you no option but to keep your head down, follow where they lead, and hope you make it out alive.”

  —Matthew Fitzsimmons, Wall Street Journal bestselling author

  “Breakneck twists, political conspiracy, bristling action—The Rescue has it all! Steven Konkoly has created a dynamic and powerful character in Ryan Decker.”

  —Joe Hart, Wall Street Journal bestselling author

  “If you are a fan of characters like Scot Harvath and Mitch Rapp, this new series is a must-read. Steven Konkoly delivers a refreshingly unique blend of action, espionage, and well-researched realism.”

  —Andrew Watts, USA Today bestselling author

  “An excellent source for your daily dose of action, conspiracy, and intrigue.”

  —Tim Tigner, author of Betrayal

  “Fans of Mark Greaney and Brad Taylor, take notice: The Rescue has kicked off a stunning new series that deserves a place on your reading list. Ryan Decker is a must-read character.”

  —Jason Kasper, author of Greatest Enemy

  “The Rescue immediately drops the reader into a well-drawn world of betrayal, revenge, and redemption. Ryan Decker is a flawed, relatable hero, unstoppable in his quest for justice.”

  —Tom Abrahams, author of Sedition

  “From the very first page, The Rescue comes at you like the literary equivalent of a laser-guided missile. Impossible to put down, with explosive action, a great hero, and political intrigue. This one will grab you.”

  —Joseph Souza, award-winning author of The Neighbor

  ALSO BY STEVEN KONKOLY

  RYAN DECKER SERIES

  The Rescue

  The Raid

  The Mountain

  THE FRACTURED STATE SERIES

  Fractured State

  Rogue State

  THE PERSEID COLLAPSE SERIES

  The Jakarta Pandemic

  The Perseid Collapse

  Event Horizon

  Point of Crisis

  Dispatches

  THE BLACK FLAGGED SERIES

  Alpha

  Redux

  Apex

  Vektor

  Omega

  THE ZULU VIRUS CHRONICLES

  Hot Zone

  Kill Box

  Fire Storm

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2021 by Steven Konkoly

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Thomas & Mercer, Seattle

  www.apub.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Thomas & Mercer are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  ISBN-13: 9781542022644

  ISBN-10: 1542022649

  Cover design by Rex Bonomelli

  To Kosia, Matthew, and Sophia—the heart and soul of my writing.

  CONTENTS

  CLEAN SWEEP

  PART ONE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  PART TWO

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  PART THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  PART FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  PART FIVE

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

  CHAPTER SIXTY

  CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CLEAN SWEEP

  M/V Aurora Sky

  Port of Houston

  Ryan Decker emerged from the darkness underneath the cargo container platform and planted his waterlogged boots on the ship’s rough metal deck. He scanned for sentries before heading aft toward the looming superstructure. Security lights mounted high on the five-story structure blazed down on the stacked containers, leaving Decker little more than a sliver of shadow for concealment.

  A quick look beyond the bright lights confirmed that the sentries on the bridge were not in a position to spot their approach. He set off at a quick but quiet pace, rapidly alternating his attention between the bridge and the deck ahead of him. He was far more concerned about the sentries up high. They’d spot Decker and Pierce the moment they looked down.

  Two dark, fast-moving forms would be pretty hard to miss. Especially tonight. Tensions would be high on board the ship after last night’s mission. The APEX Institute had gambled nearly everything on the cargo hidden inside these containers and would no doubt defend it to the last man—a scenario Decker was more than happy to facilitate.

  But not here on the exposed cargo deck. He continued aft, his boots squishing every time he took a step. They hadn’t bothered to change after the swim, opting to save the time and hassle by donning their dry tactical gear directly over the wet suits. Now he started to wonder if the few minutes’ delay might have been worth it.

  The suits turned out to be more constrictive and awkward out of the water than he had expected. To make matters worse, the tight ne
oprene layers trapped his body heat, intensifying the effects of this oppressively hot and humid Houston night. Too late to do anything about it now—and they wouldn’t be here long enough to get really uncomfortable. He hoped.

  Decker glanced over his shoulder to check on Pierce, who trailed him by several feet, rifle covering their six. With Pierce in position, he turned all his attention back to what lay ahead and above him, closing the distance to the superstructure, where they’d take the exterior stairs as far up as possible before entering and making their way to the bridge.

  They had almost no information about the size of the security garrison assigned to the ship, which made him want to spend as little time inside the superstructure as possible. The last thing Decker or Pierce wanted was to engage in a close-quarters battle within the tight confines of a ship—against an unknown number of hostile, well-trained operators. The quicker they got to the bridge the better. The bridge had one point of access, which the two of them could control until the helicopter arrived for the extraction.

  A body armor–clad man cradling a rifle materialized from about thirty feet in front of him, walking casually toward the guardrail. Decker stopped and tracked the sentry through the holographic sight attached to his suppressed HK416 rifle. The man grasped the top rail with both hands and scanned the water. Decker fired twice, both shots connecting with the man’s unprotected head and collapsing him against the guardrail.

  A few moments later, a pair of suppressed shots echoed off the containers—Pierce’s rifle dispatching someone, somewhere. Decker took off without giving the situation a second thought. Pierce would follow. He was certain of that. The four suppressed shots had been far from silent—and guaranteed to attract the wrong kind of attention from the professionals patrolling the ship.

  Decker skidded to a halt next to the dead sentry near the superstructure, grabbing the man’s tactical vest and muscling him onto the top rail before he pushed the body over the side. The man splashed into the water, creating an unmistakable sound that was guaranteed to turn heads.

  Without speaking, they made their way to the foot of the exterior stairwell, where Pierce turned to watch the deck while Decker ascended the first flight of stairs. He took the metallic steps as quietly as possible with his squishy boots, reaching the first platform seconds later. After checking the circular window on the closed hatch leading into the superstructure and seeing nobody inside, he called to Pierce.

  “Clear.”

  While Decker pointed his rifle up the next flight of stairs, Pierce made his way to the platform, tapping Decker’s shoulder when he was in position to guard the hatch. The two of them repeated this process, reaching the second platform as frantic voices called out from below. Decker took a quick look over the guardrail, immediately spotting the body he’d dumped over the side. Two sentries stood where he’d heaved the man overboard, talking excitedly into their radios. Time to speed things up.

  He tapped Pierce on the shoulder before bolting for the stairs. Decker skipped checking the hatch when he reached the third platform, immediately mounting the adjacent stairs instead. The quicker they got to the fourth and final platform the better. The bridge lay only one level above that, and they’d need every second they could gain to stay ahead of the security detachment’s inevitable response.

  “Clear,” he said, and Pierce started his ascent.

  Decker was halfway up the next flight when he heard the hatch on the platform he’d just departed suddenly swing wide open. He looked back and saw a heavily armed mercenary unexpectedly emerging to block Pierce’s path.

  Shit!

  PART ONE

  THREE DAYS EARLIER . . .

  CHAPTER ONE

  Ryan Decker opened the glass slider and stepped out of the bedroom onto the slate patio, ready to take in a deep breath of the crisp canyon air.

  “Your mercenary is here to pick up Riley,” said his dad, Steven, startling him.

  His dad sat at the table next to the pool, facing the expansive canyon view behind the house. A lone coffee mug in front of him. Decker headed in his direction.

  “She’s your granddaughter’s personal protection detail right now, and we’re lucky to have her,” said Decker, sitting down next to him. “Where’s Mom?”

  Steven regarded him with a playful smirk and a raised eyebrow. “Her new yoga class started today. She was out the door before six. We’re grabbing some breakfast when she gets back.”

  “I thought she was going to try kickboxing,” said Decker.

  “That was the mercenary’s idea,” said his dad. “Luckily, Harlow talked some sense into her.”

  “I think Mom would have enjoyed it.”

  “The last thing I need is your mom hobbling around on crutches from a kickboxing accident.”

  “Or you laid up in bed from a well-placed and well-deserved punch. Yoga is probably safer for both of you.”

  “Funny,” said his dad, before taking a sip of coffee. “But true.”

  “I better see why Brooklyn showed up twenty minutes early,” said Decker, patting him on the shoulder.

  “She’s probably sick of chauffeur duty. Nobody to shoot.”

  Decker glanced through the open slider, catching a glimpse of Brooklyn seated at one of the kitchen island stools—hopefully out of earshot. His parents had a somewhat annoying way of talking about people a little too loudly. Particularly when they hoped to be overheard.

  “You really don’t like her, do you?” he said quietly.

  “It’s not that I dislike her. She’s not bad or anything,” said his dad. “I just don’t like her spending so much time with Riley.”

  “What are you talking about? The two of them hit it off from day one,” said Decker.

  “That’s what I’m worried about,” said Steven. “She’s not the best influence in my opinion.”

  “She’s a highly decorated former Israeli commando,” said Decker. “I’d struggle to find a better role model for Riley right now—or a better bodyguard.”

  “I’ll give you the bodyguard part.”

  “And the arrangement is temporary,” said Decker. “I guarantee you this isn’t what Brooklyn had in mind when Harlow offered her the job. I’m guessing she’s here to request a reassignment.”

  Bringing Brooklyn on board had actually been his idea. The bullet that had shattered her knee during the Nevada raid had effectively killed her career as a soldier of fortune. The moment he’d seen the wound, he’d known her days of negotiating brutal terrain and trekking long distances with sixty pounds of gear had come to an unceremonious end.

  Giving her a purpose while she recovered from multiple complicated surgeries felt like the right thing to do under the circumstances. And if she decided to stick around and work for the firm, they could do a lot worse than a combat-proven Shayetet 13 commando—with a slight limp.

  “Speaking of Harlow, she hasn’t been around much since we moved in,” said his dad. “Is everything okay? I hope your mom didn’t piss her off.”

  Brooklyn caught his attention with a quick nod. He flashed her a discreet hand signal that indicated he needed a few minutes. His dad’s question couldn’t wait. Admittedly, the situation in the new house had been a little awkward since Riley and his parents had moved in about a month ago.

  They’d bought a house big enough to give everyone space and privacy when they needed it, but Decker had drastically underestimated the amount of time they’d all be in contact—and how it would affect Harlow. She hadn’t grown up in the kind of close-knit, supportive family environment that had instantly materialized here with everyone present. Her home life experience had been the exact opposite, which made the Decker family reunion a little suffocating. Especially under a single roof.

  “Everything’s fine. Harlow’s just a little overwhelmed by the close company,” said Decker, deciding to go with the short version of the backstory. “She didn’t have a tight family like ours. Between you and me, her family situation growing up was tough. She�
�s been on her own since she was in high school. It’ll take her a little time to come around.”

  “I honestly couldn’t tell. She’s about as warm and friendly as they come,” said Steven. “That’s why I thought something might have gone sideways.”

  “No,” said Decker, stifling a laugh. “She really likes you guys and Riley. Always has. What you’re seeing is a concentrated effort by someone that doesn’t want to give the wrong impression. Give her some time to adjust. It won’t take her long to figure out she doesn’t have to be on all the time.”

  “Good. This isn’t a tough crowd to please—by any stretch.”

  “I keep telling her that,” said Decker, patting his back. “I better see what Brooklyn wants.”

  “Be careful.”

  “Funny,” said Decker, before heading inside.

  Brooklyn nodded toward his father. “I don’t think he likes me.”

  “Nobody likes you,” said Decker, pretending to be serious.

  She cocked her head and gave him a quizzical look.

  “Just kidding. About the rest of us,” said Decker. “Don’t worry about my dad. He’s very protective of Riley. They’ve been inseparable since . . .”

  A few moments passed before Brooklyn let him off the hook.

  “I get it,” she said.

  Decker still couldn’t bring himself to say what had happened to his wife and son. To his family. He could barely think about it without screaming STOP—on the inside.

  “Espresso?” said Decker.

  “Sure,” she said.

  Decker slid two porcelain espresso cups under the automated coffee machine and pressed a button. The JURA GIGA 6 did the rest. He presented Brooklyn with a perfect double espresso less than a minute later, keeping one for himself.

  “Getting a little tired of sitting in a car all day?” asked Decker. “I wouldn’t blame you if that’s the case.”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s not that. I actually use the time to study for my classes. It’s not a leather club chair at Starbucks, but it works.”

  She took a sip of her espresso and nodded her approval before continuing.

  “I was hoping to pick up a few hours of PI work after I bring Riley back in the afternoon. Even with this associate degree, I’ll need five thousand hours of certified experience to get a PI license. Figured I’d get started.”