Hitting Xtremes - Em Petrova
Prologue
Penn’s lungs seared from lack of oxygen.
His pulse slowed. He focused on each painful throb of his heart responding to deprivation. His limbs started to grow heavy as his body reserved its stores for primary functions like keeping his heart beating. Still, he pushed on.
He was approaching minute two under water and shooting for three. He’d make it easy—he’d done it countless times.
Moving past the two-minute mark, he continued to swim the passage used by the underwater rescue units for training excursions. He wasn’t part of any rescue unit, but he liked to keep in shape. Over the past year and a half spent in Europe, he’d gotten a bit lax in his training, so he figured it was about time to make a stop off the coast of Thailand and give himself a good challenge.
Ahead he spotted the light at the end of the underwater cave. By the time he reached it and pushed upward to the surface to gulp a mouthful of air, he’d hit the 3:02 mark on his diving watch his brother Nash had given him.
With a final burst of energy, Penn tunneled through the final stretch toward the surface. One more hard paddle and he emerged from the water, lips tipped to the sky as he sucked precious air into his lungs.
After the Texas Rangers kicked him out for not following protocol, he didn’t have a home with any law enforcement, armed forces or special ops teams…but he still had what it took.
He climbed the bank to the pile of belongings he dropped there. As oxygen flooded his system again, he felt warmed all over and tingly too. Stripping off his wetsuit reminded him that he might have never surfaced. He could have drowned down there. People did. The Thailand government reported dozens of dead adventurers who perished in this cave every year.
Penn was never worried—he wouldn’t have attempted the challenge if he wasn’t confident in his skills.
With his wetsuit hanging around his hips, he drew on his heavy pullover and sat on the ground, soaking up the warmth of the sun, and took a minute to recover. His phone buzzed, and he reached for his jeans cast off nearby.
As soon as he spotted the name on the screen, a big grin stole over his face. He brought the device to his ear. “Hey, bro.”
“Where the hell have you been? I called you twelve times.” Nash’s irritated tone projected through the speaker.
He studied his surroundings of water and the rock entrance he’d just emerged from. “I’m hangin’ out at the beach,” he responded.
“The beach. Jesus. Well, if you’d picked up your phone you’d know I’ve been trying to get in touch with you because something big’s happening.”
“Did you get your wife pregnant again? Because that’s not really news at this point, bro.”
“No, Nevaeh isn’t pregnant again. It’s hardly been two months since Opal was born. Which reminds me you haven’t paid us a visit to meet her. If you take this offer on hand, who knows when that will happen.”
Penn sat up straighter. “Offer?” He’d performed a few tasks to help the Ranger Ops down in Texas and expected his brother to ask for assistance again now.
“Homeland Security is forming another special forces unit. Your name was bandied around more than once, Penn.”
He started shaking his head before any words formed on his lips. “Not interested in anything long-term.”
“Not even heading your own team in PNW?”
For a moment, Penn felt he was in the depths of the murky darkness again, navigating through tight spaces while trying not to get caught on the jagged protrusions of the cave walls. The Pacific Northwest region Nash mentioned was one of the few places Penn was passionate about. He loved the challenges that came with the terrain, and how he could get lost in the wilds to escape people.
“You listenin’ now?” Nash drawled out.
“Are we talking Operation Freedom Flag?”
“You got it. They’re seeing a lot of issues on the borders between the US and Canada. Also, the 180th meridian.” The 180th meridian passed through the Aleutian Islands, making Alaska’s westernmost portion actually situated in the Eastern Hemisphere. And that meant Russia claimed an easy point of entry for trafficking of drugs, humans or weapons, all rousing the attention of the division of Homeland Security known as Operation Freedom Flag.
“It’s called OFFAT—Operation Freedom Flag Alaska Tundra.”
Penn’s ears perked up, and a blast of energy brought him to his feet. Looking at the Thailand shore, he only saw the raw beauty of