Out of Harm

OUT OF HARM KURT HARM THRILLER SERIES BOOK 4 WES ALLEN WES ALLEN GET “THE VILLAGE” (PREQUEL TO “DO NO HARM”) FOR FREE Sign up for the no-spam newsletter and get “The Village” (Kurt Harm’s backstory) and more exclusive content, all for free. Get My FREE Copy of “The Village” Copyright © 2023 by Wes Allen All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. For Grace. You bring everyone so much joy. CONTENTS Get “The Village” (Prequel to “Do No Harm”) for FREE Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Sneak Peek … Book 5 in the Kurt Harm Series … Get “The Village” (Prequel to “Do No Harm”) for FREE A Kind Request Just Saying … About Wes Allen 1 Thick fog billowed over the Pacific Coast Highway. Sarah had the heat blasting through the passenger-side vents as I leaned in to the windshield, peeking through cracks in the fog and hoping not to slam into another car in front of me. Driving up the central coast of California required concentration any time of day, but Big Sur was notoriously difficult to navigate in the early summer months. “June Gloom” they called it. A green sign briefly flashed in front of me, letting me know Big Sur was one mile ahead. I took the first exit available and wound around a few turns until we arrived at our destination. The Nepenthe Restaurant was a quaint eatery nestled in the bluffs of this popular tourist town. Sarah grabbed her coat and my sweater from the back of our truck. “I don’t see Malorie’s car.” I held her hand as we walked to the back deck overlooking the fog-laden coast. “She texted me earlier.” Sarah slipped her coat on and let out an exaggerated shiver. “I’m looking forward to an afternoon up here with her, but I feel bad she had to drive all the way down from San Francisco to meet us.” Malorie had moved to Northern California a month after Sarah and I returned from Istanbul. We transferred from Boston to Los Angeles a few months later. The Agency relocated Sarah to the West Coast, and she was assigned to cases in the area. I decided to continue as a consultant for the Agency and traveled mostly in the States, providing assistance as needed. Sarah and I never declined going back overseas, but the Agency decided to head in another direction. It was an adjustment for both of us, but we loved spending time together. I battled PTSD from the overseas assignments I’d been on. The faces and names of those I’d killed and the torture I’d endured all flooded my mind night after night as I lay in bed next to my wife. Sarah had no idea I’d started to see a therapist. I planned on telling her, but something always seemed to get in the way. We sat in padded patio chairs sipping on our morning coffee when Malorie walked through the door. Sarah and I had been planning on seeing her for a long time now, and Big Sur was our weekend getaway we’d been planning for months, so it was kismet that it worked out this way. I got up to give my daughter a kiss and then pulled out a chair for her. “Hi, honey. I was worried about you. The drive down go okay?” I asked. “Yeah, just some serious fog, but no big deal.” Malorie leaned over toward Sarah and touched her hand. “So good to see you.” It had been well over a year since Malorie’s mother passed, and I was so happy Sarah helped fill the void in her life. The two were more friends than mother and daughter, but they had a genuine love for one another. I spread my arms wide and chuckled. “So, we finally get to meet. I was starting to think this would never happen. What’s on the agenda?” “How about a nice long hike after breakfast and then going down to the water?” Malorie suggested. “That sounds perfect,” Sarah said. We caught up on Malorie’s new job and the boyfriend she was dying for us to meet. We were just about finished with our conversation when my phone buzzed. I glanced down at the text. It was from Director Renson. Urgent. Sorry to bother you. Gonna need you to go overseas. STAT! My shoulders slumped, and I turned the screen toward Sarah. She let out a deep sigh. “What’s wrong, Dad?” Malorie knew something was up. “Honey, I am so sorry, but—” She cut me off. “Dad, you don’t have to apologize. I know you have no choice. You can go if you have to. Seriously, I understand.” I reached out and grabbed Malorie’s hand. “I promise to make it up to you.” She smiled and held up an empty plate. “Breakfast was delicious.” We followed Malorie to her car, and I kissed her goodbye. When she pulled away, I stood in the parking lot and called Renson. “Man, you have a poor sense of timing,” I moaned. “Can’t argue there. I’m really sorry, but this one is high priority.” Renson paused. “How soon can you get here?" I stared down at the ocean. The fog was