Full Domain (A Nice Guys Novel Book 3)

  Full Domain

  By Kindle Alexander

  Honor, integrity, and loyalty are how Deputy US Marshal Kreed Sinacola lives his life. A former SEAL now employed by the Special Operations Group of the US Marshal Service, Kreed spent most of his life working covert operations and avoiding relationships. Never one to mix business with pleasure, his boundaries blur and his convictions are put to the test when he finally comes face-to-face with the hot computer geek he’s been partnered with. Hell-bent on closing the ongoing case for his longtime friend, he pushes past his own limits and uncovers more than he expects.

  Aaron Stuart strives for one thing: justice. Young and full of idealism, his highly sought after computer skills land him a position with the National Security Agency. Aaron’s biggest hazard at his job is cramped fingers, but all that changes when he is drawn into the middle of a dangerous federal investigation. Aaron gets more than he bargained for when the FBI partners him with a handsome and tempting deputy US marshal. His attraction to the inked up, dark-haired man provides another kind of threat altogether. Aaron tries desperately to place a firewall around his heart and fight his developing feelings, knowing one misstep on his part could ultimately destroy him.

  The solution isn’t as easy as solving the case, which is treacherous enough as it is. But the growing sexual attraction between them threatens to derail more than just Kreed’s personal convictions as he quickly learns temptation and matters of the heart rarely fit easily into the rules he’s lived by. Will Kreed be able to convince Aaron to open his heart and face the fact that sometimes the answers aren’t always hidden in code?

  Full Domain

  Copyright © Kindle Alexander, 2015

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Edited by Jae Ashley

  Cover art by Reese Dante

  http://www.reesedante.com

  ISBN ebook: 978-1-941450-08-6

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher, Kindle Alexander LLC, kindle@kindlealexander.com. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without permission from Kindle Alexander, LLC. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author's rights and livelihood is appreciated.

  Full Domain is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.

  Trademark Acknowledgements

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following trademarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Advil: Wyeth, LLC

  Apple: Apple, Inc.

  ASUS: Asustek Computer Incorporation Corporation

  Atlanta International Airport: City of Atlanta

  Back to the Future: Universal/U-Drive Joint Venture

  Barbie: Mattel, Inc.

  Bose: Bose Corporation

  Bud Light: Anheuser-Busch, Incorporated

  Call of Duty: Activision Publishing, Inc.

  Coors: MillerCoors LLC

  CTFxC: Charles Trippy

  CVS: CVS Pharmacy, Inc.

  Dulles International: Metropolitan Washington Airports Authority

  ESPN: ESPN, Inc.

  Ethan Hunt (Mission Impossible character): Paramount Pictures Corporation

  FBI: Federal Bureau of Investigation

  FedEx: Federal Express Corporation

  Flo Rida: Dillard, Tramar

  Glock: Glock, Inc.

  Google: Google, Inc.

  Hallmark Channel: Hallmark Licensing LLC

  Hawaii Five-O: CBS Studios Inc.

  Heineken: Heineken Brouwerijen B.V.

  Holiday Inn: Six Continents Hotels, Inc.

  Home Depot: Homer TLC, Inc.

  iPad: Apple, Inc.

  iPhone: Apple, Inc.

  Jack in the Box: Jack in the Box Corporation

  Justin Timberlake (SexyBack): Tennman Brands, LLC

  Levi's: Levi Strauss & Co. Corporation

  Lush: Cosmetic Warriors Ltd.

  Marine Corps: US Marine Corps, a component of the US Department of the Navy

  MIT: Massachusetts Institute of Technology Corporation

  Monsters, Inc.: Disney Enterprises, Inc.

  Mountain Dew: Pepsico, Inc.

  Nine Inch Nails (Closer): Michael Trent Reznor

  Oreo: Intercontinental Great Brands LLC

  Pay Day: Tournament One Corp

  Samsonite: Samsonite IP Holdings S.A.R.L.

  Shinedown (Call Me): Smith, Brent

  Sonic: America’s Drive-In Corp.

  Speedo: Speedo International

  SpongeBob SquarePants: Viacom International Inc.

  State of Decay: Microsoft Corporation

  Subway: Doctor’s Associates Inc.

  Superman: DC Comics General Partnership

  The Creatures: The Creatures LLC

  The Matrix: Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.

  The Men’s Warehouse: The Men’s Warehouse, Inc.

  Tahoe: General Motors LLC

  Tim Tams: Campbell Soup Company

  Underoos: Fruit of the Loom, Inc.

  US Navy: The Department of the Navy

  Walmart: Wal-Mart Stores, Inc.

  Whataburger: Whataburger Partnership

  X-Files: Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation

  Dedication

  Kindle, you are forever in our hearts.

  Perry, you’re missed every day.

  Reese, Jae, Becca and Ena, for all you do.

  We hope to never have a release without you.

  Note from the Author

  This is not the hacker’s bible – please don’t use it as such. Technology changes by the second. Creative license was taken with this story. It is a work of fiction.

  Chapter 1

  “Man, this is turning into one suck-ass day,” Aaron mumbled quietly to no one in particular as he edged his way through the overcrowded and lengthy terminals of the Atlanta International Airport. He swore his backpack weighed at least fifty pounds and the small carry-on he tugged behind him easily added another twenty-five. He’d tried to stick to the bare necessities for this trip, but with all his gear, electronic equipment, and his most important ASUS ROG notebook, which he never left home without, he still managed to over-pack.

  The gates and corridors were congested with rude, indignant travelers, more than he’d ever seen gathered in one place before. From the conversations he’d caught snippets of along the way, the irritable attitudes were due to unexpected flight delays across the eastern half of the United States.

  A winter storm had blown through, dumping a shit-load of ice in its wake. Apparently the magnitude of the storm had caught the southern half of the US by surprise. The meteorologists had completely missed this monster of a storm before it bore down on its intended target. At least that was the
continued excuse he kept hearing from the airport personnel as to why they weren’t better prepared for this crippling event during one of the busiest traveling days of the year. Words like happy and holiday were used with increasingly angry bursts of fucking and asshole added to the mix.

  Not even the Christmas carols playing overhead helped lighten the mood surrounding him. So much for peace on earth.

  Keeping his eyes focused on the large information screens, Aaron scanned the arrival and departure listings, watching as hundreds of delayed flights were canceled all across the East Coast—not that any of that actually mattered to him. His flight from Miami had arrived so late he’d have missed his connecting flight regardless of the inclement weather.

  No way in hell would he spend the night in some corner of this overly congested airport, waiting for the flight schedules to open again. The Federal Bureau of Investigation would just have to work their magic and get him on a different flight tomorrow or when things let up outside. Until then, he’d find a vacant room in a five-star hotel—preferably the Drake—his favorite place to stay when he stopped in Atlanta.

  Aaron sighed as he followed the discontented masses toward what he hoped was an exit. If the weather was as bad as everyone kept hinting, he might not get a chance to eat at Poor Calvin’s, Aaron’s favorite little Asian-fusion eatery on Piedmont Street. The lobster fried rice was to die for and thoughts of the dish had actually been the only thing keeping him sane as they’d flown high above the city; it felt like they’d been circling for an hour and a half, waiting for their chance to land. His stomach picked that second to protest, the loud rumble reminding him he hadn’t eaten anything since the protein shake he’d choked down for breakfast.

  Aaron looked around and spotted a food kiosk about fifty feet away. That should take care of his urgent food needs until he could get to the hotel. Taking a deep breath, he carefully dodged his way through the crowd, attempting to move toward the kiosk, which proved a trickier process than he’d anticipated. He apparently hadn’t truly experienced the vexed people in this airport until he tried to work his way between them.

  “Hey, move it!” the guy behind him bellowed as Aaron slowed to merge farther to the left.

  “I’m sorry. Excuse me,” Aaron apologized when he accidently stepped in front of another person in his rush to get out of the middle of traffic and away from the jerk behind him. The woman in his path huffed, and although he’d never touched her, her hands flailed dramatically like he had tripped her in some way.

  “Dude, watch it,” the man beside her quipped, making a show of keeping the woman on her feet as she reached out for his arm. Aaron moved quickly to the opposite side, tugging his luggage out of the way and inadvertently stepped into the flow of traffic going the opposite direction.

  “Shit!” he exclaimed loudly when a large trunk-style suitcase rolled right over his sandaled foot.

  The scowl he’d been holding back slid firmly in place as he watched the person who’d so rudely rolled over his foot, glance back over his shoulder to give him a very clear fuck you glower as he kept going without any hesitation.

  Seriously, this place was worse than Black Friday on motherfucking steroids. Aaron took a deep breath and tried to move farther out of the way. He made it to the far wall and stopped outside the flow of manic pedestrians to catch his breath and regroup. The only reason he was in this godforsaken mass of pissed off travelers during the airlines’ busiest and most miserable travel week of the year was a job, and no job on the planet was worth this kind of bullshit.

  Time to reassess his life. No more Mr. Nice Guy. He was done with that. Look what being nice had cost him. He was standing in the middle of hell. If the FBI insisted he be onsite, then he shouldn’t have any problem becoming the biggest pain-in-the-ass on the planet.

  Except that just wasn’t his personality. He’d tried everything to make the bureau see that he wasn’t needed in Washington, DC, for this assignment. He could carry on as he was, monitoring everything from home with the equipment he needed to do his job properly. Look how far he’d gotten on his own, from the privacy and comfort of his living room.

  Yet the stuffed-shirt egomaniacs in DC said it would be in everyone’s best interest if they were able to look him in the eye when they spoke. In other words, no matter what he had done to prove himself, they didn’t trust him as far as they could throw him.

  But not even the FBI could control Mother Nature—even though the majority of them had huge God complexes—and he wouldn’t arrive there today as he’d been ordered. That thought eased a little of his tension. Honestly, their demands meant nothing to him, and the only reason he’d eventually given in and flown to DC had to do with his friend Mitch Knox.

  Since Mitch had first asked for his help, something about this entire case needled at him. Aaron couldn’t tolerate injustice, bigotry, or hatred in any form, and the fact that this case had hit so close to home for Mitch had an effect on Aaron as well. Those few minutes after Cody had been shot were some of the most frantic of Aaron’s life. He’d shown his true ability, hacking into everything as he’d desperately tried to find answers for Mitch.

  At the time, Aaron’s belief in the justness of a situation had overpowered any reasonable thought. He wanted the best for the world, especially for those who couldn’t fight for themselves. Cody shot in the chest… Mitch trying to get to him… No one getting Mitch the answers he needed… Yeah, there was nothing fair in any of that at all.

  More than anything, Aaron hated bureaucratic bullying. The arrogance of that act just pissed him the hell off. Life should have buffers in place to protect people from Big Brother beating them down and stalling the process for their own gain. They could have gotten Mitch his answers, but hadn’t, and that wasn’t right. Life should be nothing more than moment after moment of peace, love, and rock and roll—or some shit along those lines.

  Aaron finally manned up, found a break in the traffic, and began moving again. He made his way to the long line waiting at the food kiosk, and took his place at the end with the rest of the hungry patrons. He looked over the menu board and groaned in frustration when he found absolutely nothing good to eat. He could choose from an extensive list of foot-long hot dogs or, for an exorbitant price, he could upgrade to sausage. His arteries hardened at the thought.

  “I heard it’s turning to snow outside.”

  He looked over his shoulder to see who had spoken the first kind words he’d heard since arriving in Atlanta and found an older couple behind him.

  “Snow? Really?” he asked, just to be nice. At this point, he didn’t give a shit. He needed food and to get to the hotel and unpack. He’d planned for colder weather in DC, but left Miami in his standard attire of walking shorts, T-shirt, and a CTFxC hoodie.

  “Yes, they’re calling for snow, maybe up to an inch. They’re saying the highways are backing up already.” Those words actually caused Aaron a slight panic. He needed to get moving.

  “Thanks,” he said absently before he broke from the line, braving the pedestrians bustling toward the exit. He absolutely wasn’t getting stuck in this airport overnight; he could go hungry until he arrived at the hotel. He’d live. He shoved his way through the corridor until he spotted the closest exit. He pushed through the doors and the biting wind took his breath. Nothing but more chaos awaited him on the other side. People were packed three deep from the curb, waiting for any way possible to get out. The airport shuttles were filling to capacity and the taxis couldn’t stop fast enough to pick up passengers.

  Aaron pushed his way to the curb and called out to a guy lifting a trunk lid to load his luggage inside a Checker cab. “Where are you going?”

  “Downtown,” the stranger yelled back, never really looking up from his task as he scrambled to load his baggage. An upturned suit jacket collar and keeping his head bent in were the man’s only defenses against the biting wind and heavy snow.

  “I’ll pay the fare if you let me ride,” Aaron offered. The slus
h hit his uncovered legs and feet, causing him to shiver as the freezing temperatures registered with his body.

  The guy finally looked up at him, eyeing him closely before he replied, “Sure.”

  Aaron tossed his backpack with his laptop in the backseat and went for the trunk. The driver stayed inside the taxi with the heater blowing, offering zero help. Aaron pulled the hood of the hoodie over his head, slid the zipper as high as it would go, and reached for his suitcase. At that exact moment, another taxi came barreling past. The taxi splashed the length of the left side of his body with slushy ice water. The shock of the cold attacking his body caused him to lose his grasp on his suitcase, which then tipped over but, luckily, landed intact on the wet pavement.

  There were only seconds of relief as another car ran over it. The Samsonite held together until the third car. After that, it didn’t stand a chance. He watched in horror as four cars hit his suitcase before an attendant could get involved and direct traffic away from all his belongings being spread across the parkway. With no other choice, Aaron trudged through the ice and falling snow in his sandals and gathered all his now-ruined clothes as everyone watched from the safety of the covered sidewalk.

  As he worked, the taxi started honking. The guy he was riding with took pity and jumped out, tossing Aaron’s drenched, dirty clothes into the trunk. By the time they finished, Aaron felt like his clothes looked: frayed, inundated, and completely wrecked. He was soaked and shivering as he finally got inside the taxi. The driver pulled out before he was able to get the door fully closed.

  “Here,” the guy said, shrugging out of his coat.

  “It’s okay.” Aaron was surprised he got the words out, his teeth were chattering so loudly. The older man didn’t pay him any attention, draping the warm, dry coat over him.