Hard Instincts Read online

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  HARD

  Instincts

  By: Chloe Fischer

  Copyright © 2017 Chloe Fischer

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written consent of the publisher.

  Resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales or events is entirely coincidental.

  [email protected]

  Prologue

  New Haven, Connecticut – 25 years ago

  It was the first supper Drake Conway had eaten at home in over two months and he smiled lovingly at his wife, wanting to treasure every second of the idyllic moment. Who knew when he would be granted such an opportunity again? He was already taking a major risk being there that night.

  No one knew where he was; he had violated protocol to see his family and the consequences of such a blatant disregard for the rules could be devastating.

  Drake shoved the dark thoughts from his mind, turning his attention back to Shirley and the boys.

  I deserve to be a normal man for one night, he reasoned. I have earned it.

  “Darling, these potatoes are divine,” Drake announced and Shirley smiled beguilingly, placing her elbows on the table as she eyed her husband.

  “I put in a special ingredient,” she confessed, winking a light blue eye at him. “It’s like I sensed you coming home today and knew I needed to make them extra special.”

  Drake grinned, a surreal quality overtaking him as he looked around the mahogany table. It was difficult to reconcile Major Drake Conway, Department of Defence Special Forces with Drake Conway, husband, father and fantasy football player.

  They are two completely different people. I don’t even know if they would like one another if they were to meet, Drake thought wryly. He wondered if Bob next door would even recognize him in his other persona.

  “I no like potatoes!” Three-year-old Xavier declared, pushing his fork about the plate in disgust and the twins babbled in agreement. They smashed their tiny fists against the plastic trays of their high chairs, sending a spray of mashed vegetables all about the elegant dining room.

  Shirley sighed but before she could answer, Ryder, the oldest boy, interjected.

  “I don’t like potatoes,” he corrected his younger brother. Xavier shook his head.

  “No,” he insisted. “I no like them!”

  Drake grimaced slightly and turned to his middle son.

  “Your mother worked very hard on this dinner, Xavy,” he chided. “You should be thanking her, not criticizing her cooking.”

  “Drake,” Shirley laughed, rising to take the three-year-old’s plate from him. “He doesn’t know what that word means. Sometimes I think you forget how small they are.”

  Drake glanced at Xavier and they exchanged a private smile.

  “I don’t know, honey,” he replied, winking at the boy. “I don’t think you give them enough credit sometimes. Children are like sponges.”

  Shirley chuckled as she stepped into the kitchen, looking back over her shoulder.

  “I wish they were like mops,” she joked, disappearing with the dishes. “This house is in a perpetual state of chaos with all the testosterone coursing through it.”

  Drake laughed merrily at her assessment.

  “I suppose we will need to try for a girl then,” he called back to her. “Even out the hormones in here.”

  Shirley scoffed but didn’t answer, leaving Drake alone with his gaggle of children.

  As if he had issued a silent command, all four boys turned their attention on Drake in unison, their fussing forgotten.

  The twins, Zander and Aiden stared up at him from their elevated spots with pale green eyes, an identical pair of infant innocence.

  Xavier pressed his face into his folded hands, mushing his chubby cheeks as he studied his father inquisitively while Ryder seemed content in watching Drake through his peripheral vision.

  My sons, Drake thought, his heart filled with the proud beat which only a father could understand. I hope you know much you mean to me. I will always protect you.

  As if comprehending his silent tribute, they nodded almost imperceivably and returned to their supper as Shirley re-entered the room.

  The bond they shared was beyond that of simply father and sons; it was ethereal. Drake knew it would be years before the boys understood why, however. He would explain to each boy as they became of age, why they were vitally important to more than just Drake, but to the world as a whole.

  “Dessert!” the lovely redhead announced, placing a cherry pie on the center of the table.

  “I no like dessert!” Xavier exclaimed and his parents laughed.

  “Perfect!” Drake declared. “More for us!”

  Shirley pulled a knife out and began to cut the pie in pieces when Drake was suddenly overcome with a sense that something wasn’t right, that he had been there before.

  Oh no, he thought, his heart beginning to thud dangerously in his chest.

  A strange feeling began to course through Drake and time slowed as he watched the scene unfolding before him.

  Deja vu.

  Fear gripped his heart and he pushed backed the chair, rising to his feet just as the doorbell rang.

  “Who could that be?” Shirley asked, glancing at the grandfather clock in the corner.

  Drake opened his mouth to respond, panic sweeping over his body as he reached for the twins, snatching them from their chairs. Instantly they began to wail in protest as their father kicked over the table.

  “Don’t answer it!” he cried out as his wife hurried toward the front door. She turned to stare at him in stunned surprise.

  But it was too late.

  The door flew inward and they drew in, like a swarm of buzzards converging on a corpse. Their leader smiled coldly at Drake, raising his weapon to fire once between his wife’s eyes, ending her scream before it had a chance to start.

  Drake had no chance to think, only react, throwing the twins into Ryder’s arms as he scooped Xavier from his chair.

  Their wailing filled his ears as he reached into his ankle holster and began firing at the half dozen men dressed only in black.

  His bullets did not slow them and they drew closer as the children took cover beneath the buffet, quaking in fear.

  When the first round hit him, Drake’s only thought was that it was his fault. He had brought a plague on his house when he had been warned time and again about the consequences.

  His shoulder was on fire but he did not stop pulling the trigger again and again, hoping to take out as many of them as he could.

  One less of them is one less threat, he told himself as more ammunition riddled his body but he knew he was outnumbered and sadly, ultimately outsmarted.

  He had lied to his sons.

  He could not protect them. He had unwittingly brought danger directly to their doorstep.

  Oculus had finally found them.

  And the children would never be safe again.
>
  Arlington, Virginia – 5 years later.

  “It has been long enough, Vance. I want to know where they are now.”

  Vance Berkley sat back in the chair, making a steeple of his hands as he eyed his superior.

  “Director, with all due respect, it has only been five years. You cannot believe that is enough time in any world.”

  The men locked gazes for a long moment, an undercurrent of electricity coursing between them.

  “You gave them to me to keep safe, Sir. I have done so, but if I tell you where they are, you cannot guarantee their protection, despite your new title, Director.”

  “It has been four years since anyone from Oculus has shown themselves,” Drake reminded him. “They may no longer be a threat.”

  “They are biding their time, Director. Do you believe they will rest before they get what they are seeking? You should understand how long they are willing to wait more than anyone.”

  Drake gritted his teeth.

  He did not appreciate being contradicted by his second-in-command, but he also knew Vance was speaking the truth.

  How much longer must I wait to learn about their whereabouts? He wondered but the answer was not one he wanted to confront.

  It was the reason he kept Vance Berkley so close to him as he began to climb the ranks. The man was trustworthy and blunt; brutally so.

  The deputy director was wise beyond his years but sometimes, Drake wished that the man would placate him and tell him what he wanted to hear.

  Especially where it involves the boys, he thought sadly.

  There had not been one day since the night that Oculus had invaded his secure life in New Haven that Drake did not replay every second of what had happened in his mind.

  How did we survive? How did we all survive…except Shirley. My poor, beautiful Shirley.

  “Of course, the choice is ultimately yours,” Vance continued. “If you wish to know where I have put the boys, I will give you the addresses of the families I placed them with and you may go get them.”

  Drake turned his head slightly so Vance could not read the expression on his face. He didn’t like anyone seeing his vulnerabilities. He had to be strong, always. Or at least appear to be so – even when it felt like his heart was breaking every minute of every day that his boys were not in his arms. As much as it pained him to admit it, he didn’t trust his own judgement any longer. Since that fateful night when he had thought that he was smarter, wilier than Oculus. That they would never be able to track him home if he came by himself just once, he had reasoned.

  I must wait. Vance is right. It is too soon.

  “One more year,” Drake sighed. “We will wait one more year. If Oculus has not surfaced, I will reunite with my sons. Until then, keep their whereabouts a secret. Even from me,” he resigned.

  It turned out that it was a command Drake would never forgive himself for making.

  Langley, Virginia – Twenty Years Later

  The red flash was blinking on the private line but he dared not touch it. It could only bring bad news. Nothing good had ever come through the ear piece of that telephone.

  “Chief Supervisor, the phone.”

  He looked up at the woman standing before him, his mouth becoming a fine line of anger.

  “Agent Lipinski, what is your rank in this agency?” he asked coldly. The young woman stared at him uncomprehendingly.

  “I am a junior special agent, sir,” she replied slowly.

  “Do you know what my title is in this agency?”

  Her face grew pale as if she realized her mistake in pointing out such an obvious thing as a ringing phone.

  “Yes, sir, Chief Supervisor, sir.”

  “Then I suggest you remember where you are on the food chain the next time you choose to speak without being spoken to.”

  Special Agent Lipinski stared at her matte pumps, humiliation coloring her cheeks and Drake turned toward the bright red stationary telephone.

  To his chagrin, the light continued to blink.

  “Yes?” he growled, snatching the receiver into his hand. His face remained locked in an expression of stone as he listened.

  Without a word, he replaced the earpiece in its cradle and sat back in his high-back leather chair.

  “Sir? Is there something I should know?”

  Slowly, Drake raised his eyes to stare at Lipinski, his expression laced in ice.

  “Get out.”

  The woman’s face went pale and she visibly swallowed, turning to flee the room as if the two words he had spoken would send her crumbling into a pile of broken masonry.

  As she disappeared out the door, Drake twisted the chair to stare at the red phone, the voice on the line echoing endlessly in his ears.

  It has been sixteen years, he thought. Sixteen years since their last contact and now they have decided to resurface. Why? Why now?

  He had no way of knowing. Drake had nothing they could want. He had forsaken his vendetta against them for Shirley’s death, knowing that it could only lead to more pain for his family. If he continued the fight against Oculus, he would never see the boys again.

  They are not boys anymore. They are men now. Four grown men. And I have no idea where they are because Oculus had murdered Vance too.

  “Chief Supervisor?”

  Ryan Angles poked his head inside the office.

  “What is it?” he asked the Senior Supervisor.

  “Are you all right? Lipinski said the red phone rang.”

  Drake studied his second-in-command.

  “Sir?” Angles prompted.

  “Get rid of her.”

  The senior supervisor stared at him, his mouth agape.

  “Get rid of her?” he repeated. “As in- “

  “She is not Central Intelligence Agency material. Get rid of her.”

  “Chief Supervisor, with all due respect, Lipinski – “

  “Is fired. Give her an adequate severance package. Any agent who cannot keep their mouth shut for two minutes has no business in this agency.”

  Angle’s face registered consternation but he clamped his mouth closed, backing away. Drake watched as he tried not to storm from the second-tier office but he could easily read the ire in the man’s face.

  He was angry, but Drake didn’t care. In fact, he wanted that reaction.

  Drake remembered the voice on the phone.

  It was better that they all loathed him.

  Anyone who got too close to him wound up dead or in hiding for the rest of their lives.

  Oculus is back and I cannot afford to lose anyone else.

  He still needed to find his boys.

  The five of us must reunite. Drake realized that Oculus had to be stopped – once and for all.

  It is the only way we can take on Oculus and win.

  Chapter One

  Istanbul, Turkey – Two Weeks Ago

  He wove through the city, his strides long and confident as he maneuvered through the red-light district in Fatih.

  No one questioned his presence as he seemed to belong amongst the local with his dark hair, bronze skin and smouldering green eyes.

  Yet if the men were to look closely, they would have noticed something different about the swarthy stranger, something that did not quite fit with the groove of the hookah-smoking Turks that were seeking out companionship for the evening.

  Perhaps it was the air of authority which exuded from his six-foot three-inch frame, or maybe it was simply something in his aura.

  Whatever the reason, he was easily allotted entry to the brothel through the stairs on the side of the building, landing him along the second story of the stacked house in a cloak of relative darkness.

  “Ah, Mr. Quinn,” Alina gushed as he entered. “I was not expecting you here tonight.”

  He smiled, flashing a glorious line of white teeth and he winked becomingly.

  “I was hoping to see Mia. Is she here?”

  “For you, Mr. Quinn, she is always here.”


  His smiled as he accepted the madam’s outstretched and heavily ringed hand, following her into the bowels of the brothel.

  “I will get you some opium,” she whispered and Mr. Quinn nodded.

  “Thank you,” he replied, kissing her smooth, caramel cheek sweetly.

  Inside the draped room where he was lead, the designs were made up of flagrant reds and gold, with a mass of scarves and throw pillows. The succulent but musky scent of opium and incense met his nostrils as he collapsed unceremoniously onto a pile of pillows, Alina leaving to attend to his party favors.

  As she vanished, he sat up, his eyes circling the room critically.

  It all seemed in order but he had been fooled before. He needed to be more vigilant.

  Mistakes cost lives.

  He forced Riverville’s voice from his mind. Thinking of Riverville could only serve as a distraction at that moment.

  “Here you are, Mr. Quinn,” Alina purred, placing a tray at his side. “Mia is on her way. She is excited to see you as always.”

  He smiled and nodded.

  “Tell her not to rush. I have all night.”

  Alina’s laugh was a musical sound and she whirled to leave him again, her toga-style attire flowing with her as she moved.

  Alina herself had once been a very successful prostitute before being hired to run the Blue Moon brothel.

  Like most of the cathouses in Istanbul, theirs was under the rule of the government. Typically, the red-light district catered exclusively to the locals but occasionally, tourists made the mistake of venturing into the back alleys of Fatih.

  They were heavily charged and often robbed but unsurprisingly, law enforcement had little sympathy for those men.

  Mr. Quinn was an exception to both the rule and the scrutiny that others in his position seemed to face.

  He had been an occasional fixture at the Blue Moon for as long as any of the girls could remember. He favored Mia but he was known to stay with others, leaving each one with a lasting impression of his prowess and wealth.

  “Mr. Quinn.”