Arctic Ambush Read online

  Table of Contents

  About Arctic Ambush

  Praise for Tracy Cooper-Posey’s Romantic Suspense

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Did you enjoy this book? Tell me, and I’ll tell everyone.

  The next book in the Vistaria Has Fallen series.

  About the Author

  Other books by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  Copyright Information

  About Arctic Ambush

  Long before revolution will tear Vistaria apart, Nicolas Escobedo discovers the first hint of the Insurrectos’ existence.

  Sent by his brother Jose, the President of Vistaria, to assess proposals to mine the silver that has been discovered in Vistaria, Nick revisits a tragic piece of his personal history. He has always believed Molly O’Patrick died in a Belfast bombing, taking a piece of his heart with her.

  In a lonely northern Canadian hotel, isolated by a raging blizzard, Nick comes face to face with Molly, only to find the IRA are still hunting her and he is the only one who can save her.

  But just like Molly’s “death” twenty years ago, this attack, too, is not quite what it seems…

  Arctic Ambush is a prequel origins novelette setting up the events in the Vistaria Has Fallen series:

  1.0: Vistaria Has Fallen

  2.0: Prisoner of War

  3.0: Hostage Crisis

  4.0: Freedom Fighters

  5.0: Casualties of War

  6.0: V-Day

  [Reader Note: This series was previously published as erotic romance titles in the Vistaria Affair series. This new edition has been re-written for a general audience and re-titled. Arctic Ambush, however, is completely new and has never been published or released in any form. Arctic Ambush is not available for sale at any retail outlet.]

  Praise for Tracy Cooper-Posey’s

  Romantic Suspense

  Suspense fans will find it difficult to put down.

  The best…I’ve read in quite a while. I literally could not put it down.

  Tracy Cooper-Posey creates a masterful suspense that will haunt you and linger in your thoughts. This is an author on the rise!

  THIS WAS FABULOUS…yes, in shouty caps. I couldn’t read it fast enough. What a RIDE!

  When you run the gamut of emotions while reading a book (including tears at one point), you know it’s good.

  Fantastically written romantic suspense that will draw you in completely. Complex, hard-hitting, with gutsy characters so real you’ll want to meet them in person.

  High adrenaline action-packed read that doesn’t quit.

  I love when an author can keep you turning the pages furiously and trying to read ahead.

  Everything from love, passion, and friendship to terror, fear and tragedy.

  It has everything -- action, suspense, surprises, romance! I could really see the scenes unfolding on a screen.

  Chapter One

  Presidential Palace, Lozano Colinas, Vistaria de la República – Twenty-one months before the Insurrecto Uprising. September.

  Until José and Carmen shouted at each other, Nicolás had forgotten where he was. Jose’s angry exclamation yanked Nick back to the present moment. His big brother’s fist pummeling the table reminded him where he was.

  In the shack. At breakfast. Reviewing departmental briefs before his long, long day began. Again.

  Nick put the briefing binder aside as Carmen prodded the table with a long fingernail and leaned toward her father, her face working. “M.I.T. have research going back twenty years proving open cut mining is bad. It’s bad for everything.”

  “Except the economy,” Jose shot back. “A silver mine will stabilize the country, bring us prosperity that Vistaria has never once in its history enjoyed.”

  Carmen’s face grew red. “Do you have any idea what it would do to the country? Open pit mining exposes rock that has been locked away for thousands—millions of years. As soon as they crush that shit, radioactive materials and asbestos and dust all get kicked into the air—” Her voice was throaty, her tone fierce and her eyes narrowed.

  It reminded Nick once more that Carmen was no longer the little niece who wanted a story to scare away bad dreams. She was in her second last year of studies at Harvard. University had shaped her outlook in ways Jose often found uncomfortable.

  “They take precautions, Carmen, for heaven’s sake,” Jose said, his own face turning red. They were so alike, these two. Nick couldn’t see anything of her mother in Carmen’s features at all. Although, Maria had been dead for nearly twenty years. He could barely remember her face—not that he had been living in Vistaria when she and Jose had married.

  Jose’s hair was still deepest, true Vistarian black with blue highlights, just as Carmen’s was. There was no grey in it. His eyes and Carmen’s were both black. Their chins were square and stubborn, and their cheekbones high.

  Jose’s brows drew together. “Open cut mining is an acceptable technique. These people are experts—”

  “You’ve sold the mineral rights already?” Carmen cried, rising to her feet.

  “I remind you that I am your father and the President,” Jose said coldly. He did not stand.

  Nick was familiar with the touch of chill in his voice. He paddled the tablecloth to get their attention. “Hey. Hey! Both of you, simmer down.”

  Carmen threw her hand out, gesturing at her father. “He’ll ruin this country for a few lousy dollars!”

  “Pesos!” Jose roared at her, shoving his chair back as he got to his feet. “Or has that college of yours made you forget where you live?”

  Nick jumped to his feet. “Enough!” he yelled. “You want General Blanco busting in here to take down the enemy insurgents? Because you’re making enough noise for him to think you’re under attack. Both of you, sit.”

  They stared at each other, breathing hard.

  “I mean it,” Nick growled. “Put your asses back in your chairs.”

  Jose pushed his fingers through his hair. He reached for the chair and yanked it back under him and sat.

  Nick stared at Carmen, waiting for her to look at him, so he could glare at her and gesture to her chair.

  “Will you please explain this to Carmen, Nick?” Jose said. “She listens to you. Although why I must justify myself is beyond my understanding.”

  As Carmen wasn’t even looking at him, Nick suspected that listening was asking too much of her right now. He sighed. “I can’t explain it to her, Jose.”

  Carmen looked at him, startled.

  So did Jose. “You sat through the same briefing I did. Two hours of it. Charts and everything.” Analytics was not his brother’s strongest skill. Jose was the people person. The persuader. Until it came to his daughter, who had walked all over him since she was three and was still doing it, even now.

  Nick sat down once more. So did Carmen. She had been jolted out of her anger.

  “I can’t explain it to her,” Nick told his brother, “because I happen to agree with her. I don’t want the silver mine here, either.”

  Carmen’s smile was radiant. She crossed her arms.

  Jose pushed his plate away and pressed his hands to the cloth. His throat worked. “You were never an environmentalist—”

  “And I’m still not one, not if you’re thinking of Greenpeace and protests and environmental sabotage. It’s a complicated matter and compromises are necessary. The briefing wasn’t wasted on me, Jose. I agree that a properly managed pit would be minimally invasive. That’s not why I don’t want the mine.”

  Carmen’s smile faded.

  Jose, however, just looked interested. “Go on,” he breathed.

  Nick mar
shalled his arguments. His brother was listening to him. Even though Jose had come up through the Vistarian Army ranks and thought in terms of vulnerabilities and pressure, appealing to his emotions would have a deeper impact. Nick selected his words carefully.

  “We’re a small country. Tiny. And you’re right, the silver mine would boost the economy in a way Vistaria has never experienced. It would put us on the world stage. Only, that’s the problem. A single commodity, silver, and a single mine, run by a single corporation, would be the only thing holding Vistaria together. I keep thinking of eggs and baskets and unanticipated slips.”

  “It’s the way of it these days, Nick,” Jose replied. “We would not be the only nation in the world dependent upon a sole export, and outside expertise to extract it.”

  “You’re thinking only of Vistaria’s global reputation. I can’t help thinking about the people right here at home,” Nick replied.

  Jose’s attention sharpened. “How can this be anything but a good thing for Vistarians?”

  Nick shook his head. “A single corporation will run the mine. An entity that operates to maximize profits. If the mine props up our economy the way the projections insist, then that single corporate entity will have a massive stranglehold on Vistaria. That’s far too much leverage for my liking.”

  “Vistaria is not Ireland, Uncle Nick,” Carmen murmured.

  Nick realized he was rubbing his thigh, where the long scar hid beneath suiting. He put his hand back on the table. “Ireland was a political crucible. So will we be, if this is not handled just right.”

  “You are correct in this,” Jose said. “The wrong corporation, the wrong leader of that corporation…it could be ugly.”

  “Exactly.” Nick sat back, relief making his belly loosen.

  “That is why it is important we vet these bids for the mining rights. Our examination must be thorough and inclusive. The right corporation, one that cares about more than profit, will be the making of Vistaria.”

  “Then you’ve thought of this,” Nick said, his relief increasing.

  “I have,” Jose said. “Your resistance to assigning the mineral rights makes you the perfect person to handle this.”

  Nick’s building relief froze. “Excuse me?”

  “The Cabinet has reduced the bids down to three final contenders. You will vet those contenders,” Jose said, pouring himself another coffee and wafting spice aromas across the breakfast table. “Your plane leaves tonight.”

  “Plane?” Nick said woodenly.

  “For Australia. There’s an open cut mine in Western Australia…some god-forsaken place called…” Jose hesitated, then said slowly, struggling over the pronunciation, “Kal-goor-lie.”

  “Kalgoorlie,” Nick repeated, his disbelief flattening the word.

  “I’ve heard of that one,” Carmen said, leaning forward. “They will flood the pit, after all the gold is up, and turn it into a huge lake.” She smiled at Nick. “Dad is right, you’re the perfect person to check them out. You’re cynical as hell and you don’t want this any more than I, so you’ll ask all the tough questions.”

  Nick scrubbed at his hair, as his disbelief rose. “And if I don’t like the way they’re doing things in Kalgoorlie?”

  “Then you can move on to Papua New Guinea and see if they’re doing it any better there,” Jose said. His tone was calm. The corner of his mouth lifted. “There’s a copper mine at the top of the mountains and that is their only decent export, too.”

  Nick swore. “You knew I would say this, didn’t you?”

  Jose took a sip of the fresh coffee. His smile broadened. “Did I think my control-freak brother would freak at an outsider coming into his country and changing things? It crossed my mind.”

  Carmen laughed.

  “And the third bid?” Nick asked, with a sigh.

  “The Yukon,” Jose said. “The smallest mining company of the three. Called…” He frowned again. “Astra Corp.”

  “The Californian company?” Nick said, his horror building.

  “You have something against Californians?” Jose asked.

  “They’re Americans, too, Dad,” Carmen said. Her enjoyment of Nick’s discomfort was huge. “Uncle Nick would rather drink with his English overlords than Americans.”

  “That’s inaccurate,” Nick shot back. “The Americans are brilliant at the business of making money. It’s just not my business.”

  “You’re not a capitalist?” Carmen asked.

  “I’m…” Nick grimaced. “A humanist,” he finished.

  “You’re a politician, through and through,” Jose said. “And you’re not fooling anyone with this existential horror over a mine that will keep your favorite country running for five generations. Get used to the idea, Nicolas. It’s happening whether you like it or not. I’m giving you a chance to shape the way it happens.”

  Nick drew in a breath and hissed it out, letting go of the writhing frustration. He knew that tone of Jose’s. No more discussion would happen now. Jose had moved on. “You’re right. Thank you, Jose.”

  Jose nodded. “Take a coat, if you have one. Winter comes early to northern Canada.”

  Carmen swiped at her cellphone and nodded. “Forty-five degrees is the high…and they’re expecting snow.”

  “This just gets better and better,” Nick growled.

  Chapter Two

  Bergmont, Yukon, Canada – Twenty months before the Insurrecto Uprising. October.

  “I’m afraid you may have to stay in Bergmont a few days longer, Nick,” Will Niven said, handing Nick a glass of the excellent Canadian rye on ice. “This blizzard will shut down the airport. I feel I must apologize for that.”

  Nick stood at the huge picture window in the lounge bar of the High North Pass hotel, the exclusive and only hotel in Bergmont. Despite being the only hotel, it was empty of guests at the moment, except for Nick, Will Niven and his entourage. Tourism was not one of the town’s strengths.

  Nick had spotted the trained alertness of Will’s men, the careful way they had of scanning their surroundings and knew they were not businessmen at all, despite the tailored suits. That meant Nick and Will were the only real guests.

  Outside the window, the sharp peaks of the mountains that surrounded the town were invisible behind the curtain of falling snow, and the low, thick grey clouds. It had been snowing on and off since Nick had arrived two days ago. Just after lunch today it had turned into a full blown snow storm.

  Will’s news that the blizzard would last for another couple of days wasn’t a surprise. Will’s apology for it was, though.

  “You’re sorry you can’t control the weather?” Nick asked him, for Will had stayed at the window with Nick. His men were gone. This was not a high-risk situation.

  Will smiled. It was a pleasant expression that make his Celtic black eyes dance. “This cold must be trying for someone from the tropics.”

  “You’re from California,” Nick pointed out. “Don’t you find the cold hard to handle?”

  Will put his shoulder against the window and crossed his arms. “I was born in Ballaghnatrillick, in County Sligo. My parents emigrated to the States when I was three. Astra Corp is headquartered in San Francisco, while I spend most of the year travelling. I think of myself as a citizen of the world.”

  Nick nodded. That made sense. It had been a surprise to Nick to be greeted at the tiny Bergmont airport not by an Astra Corp vice president, but the owner himself. Everything that had happened in the two days since then was of the same unexpected yet sensible tone.

  “How did you know?” Nick said.

  “Know what?” Will asked.

  Nick nodded to the view beyond the glass. “To show me this.”

  “Bergmont?”

  “I spent ten days in Australia, and another miserable week in Papua New Guinea. Both companies toured me around the pits, showed me processors and big trucks, sheds the size of mountains. They spent the entire time talking profit margins and technological assists, go
vernment levies and more. I was expecting more of the same, here. Only, you bring me to a town where there is no mining at all and I haven’t seen a spreadsheet since I got here.”

  Will nodded his head toward the cluster of shops and houses and the single set of traffic lights in the center, which were blinking orange now, for it was seven in the evening and everyone had gone home. “There was a mine here,” he reminded Nick.

  “For forty-nine years,” Nick replied, for that had been part of the rambling conversation, the last two days.

  “Three generations of families worked the mine,” Will had said on the first day, as they drifted up the side of the mountain by ski lift to the lookout at the peak, where Nick could see the whole valley in one glance. “Bergmont was the largest zinc mine in the northern hemisphere and the largest open pit mine anywhere. They spent ten years adjusting, once the mine closed down.”

  From the peak lookout, Nick could see that no pit remained. “What do they do for a living, now?”

  “The whole town makes industrial weather gear,” Will said, grinning, for both of them wore thick, warm overcoats given to them by the mayor, a full blood Kaska tribal elder wearing an Italian hand-made suit. He’d had sharp eyes and keen intelligence. He was the only man in the last two days to speak of profits and revenues. “They learned something about working in extremes and they’ve put it to good use. We encouraged them like crazy. Even gave them seed money to start up.”

  “Angel investor,” Nick murmured.

  “I didn’t want the town to shrivel up and roll away like so many of them do when the mine shuts down,” Will replied. He waved toward the valley below. “Bergmont was smart. They were thinking about alternative revenues ten years before we closed the pit.”

  “Is that a hint?” Nick asked.

  “If you want it to be,” Will told him. “Silver isn’t just a metal commodity, Nick. It’s a precious metal. Jewelry, medical equipment, electronics…hell, even mirrors. There’s a heck of a lot of secondary industries that use silver and you’ve got a shit ton of the stuff in your backyard.”