Colton's Mission: Brotherhood Protectors World

Chapter 1

Gripping my Glock in my left hand, I eyeballed my target fifteen yards away. Breathe. Relax. I squeezed the trigger.

My bullet missed the bullseye by five inches. Son of a bitch!

I clamped my jaw so hard I felt every tooth. Clenching my right hand, I tried to get my fist to squeeze tight. My brain was convinced I could do it, but my hand said screw you.

Corbin appeared at my side, and I removed my earmuffs.

“Hey, Colton.” He clapped my back. “How’s the target practice going?”

“Crap.” I indicated to the bullseye in the distance.

He groaned. “Don’t beat yourself up, man. Learning to shoot with a different hand can’t be easy. And remember, it could be worse.” He pulled his earmuffs on and stepped aside.

It could be worse.

That was the brutal truth of a military career.

I pulled my safety gear back on, and as I aimed the Glock with my left hand again, guilt washed over me like a rogue wave. I only lost two fingers on my right hand, not whole limbs or worse, my life. I should be grateful.

It took me way too long to accept that my body would never be the same again. And sometimes, I can still feel those missing fingers. That was fucked up.

But what really ruined me was losing my Navy SEAL career.

I squeezed the trigger again, and the bullet missed the bullseye by six inches.

Goddammit!

I could use my right hand, but clutching the weapon without my pinky and ring fingers wasn’t ideal, and my damaged nerves made my grip twitchy. But when all that came together, my aim was still spot on. Learning to shoot with my left hand, though, was a stupid idea.

I holstered my Glock and pressed the button to recall the evidence of my pathetic target practice. Waiting for the sheet to reach me, I watched Corbin’s expert marksmanship. His wounds yanked his military career out from under him, too, but he was still an excellent shot. His bullets hit dead center, cementing his status as the skilled sniper on our team.

I snatched my target sheet off the pegs, scrunched it into a ball, lobbed it into the waste bin, and marched away. I headed for the debriefing room and was surprised to see Knox there. After our hectic rescue from the Amazon, I thought he’d take some time out.

Knox nodded at me as I strolled toward the front of the room, where a large, detailed map of South America was pinned to the cork board.

“You still working on taking down those bastards who are clearing all that protected land?” I asked.

Knox nodded and shrugged. “Yep. But I think it’s an endless battle. We take down one bastard, and another steps into his place.”

“Tell me about it. I’ve been setting up my dive business in Mexico for a few months now, and if I didn’t have my local guy down there helping me wade through the corrupt officials so I could deal with the legit ones, I’d never get my business off the ground.”

Knox huffed. “I hear you. Corrupt bastards are everywhere. You got any customers yet?”

“Yeah, actually, I’ve taken four groups into Las Cuevas de los Susurros already.”

“Las de what?” He frowned.

“Las Cuevas de los Susurros. The biggest underground cave system in the world.”

Knox shuddered. “I don’t know how you do it, man. Going into that dark water would give me the creeps.”

I chuckled. “I’ve been scuba diving since I was twelve, and I haven’t seen anything that scared me below the surface yet. It’s the people up top that we should be worried about.” I nodded toward the map.

“Yeah, ain’t that the truth. But I still don’t know how you do it. You’re crazy.”

“Gotta do something in my downtime, or I’ll go nuts.”

He peered at me so hard I could almost smell his mind burning, and I wanted to yank back my statement. Before he asked me a question I didn’t want to answer, I said, “Speaking of crazy. How’s Amy?”

His jaw dropped. “She’s not crazy.”

“Anyone who chases giant anacondas in the Amazon jungle has to be a touch crazy in my books.”

He laughed. “Maybe you’re right.” He shot me a grin that showed just how happy he was since he’d hooked up with the stunning filmmaker.

I’d had that kind of love once . . . until the bitch showed me her true colors.

There’s no hope for me to find someone special now though, not when I had no idea who I was. But I damn well knew who I wasn’t . . . I wasn’t the elite Navy SEAL I’d always dreamed I’d be. I’m not the extremely fit soldier who could outrun men ten years younger than me. And I wasn’t a man who could settle down. Not when sitting still activated my demons.

My coping mechanism was to keep moving. Even though working with my Navy buddies reminded me of what I’d lost . . . fucking everything . . . I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Knox gripped my shoulder, yanking me from my mental landslide. “I can’t thank you guys enough for helping me save Amy on?—”

I clapped his back. “All good, buddy. That’s what we do.”

He leveled his gaze at me, getting all serious. “How are you doing?”

I shrugged. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t give me that, I’m fine, bullshit. Remember who you’re talking to.”

“I’m fine, Knox.”

He eyeballed me for way too long. “Okay. But you let me know when fine begins to slip to fucked up. Got it?”

Chuckling, I saluted. “Yes, boss.”

Walker marched into the room, a man on a mission. Maybe he was like me . . . needed to keep moving. He was the pilot who flew one of the choppers that crashed on that aircraft carrier. Didn’t stop the crazy bastard from wanting to be a pilot again, though.

Thank Christ he did. Walker was an ace in the cockpit, and we were lucky to have him working with us at Team Eagle.

We shook hands, and Walker tilted his head at the map. “You lost?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Knox chuckled.

Every man on our team had been lost one way or another after our careers came to a screeching halt. We were lucky Hank saw past our wounds and recognized our potential to work with Brotherhood Protectors.

Team Eagle gave us purpose.

And rescuing people while the bullets were flying . . . that’s what made my blood run.

Knox tossed the red marker pen onto the table and shook his head. He looked exhausted. Not that he’d ever admit it. None of us would.

“Why don’t you take the weekend off?” I suggested. “Come back Monday with a clear head.”

“Yeah, maybe. Oh, hey, I nearly forgot. Amy and I are throwing a few T-bones on the barbecue tomorrow afternoon. Want to join us?”

“Hell, yes.” Walker patted his stomach. “You had me at T-bones.”

“Great, what about you, Colton?”

“No can do. I’m heading back down to Mexico tonight. I’ve got five tourists I’m taking into that cave.”

“Huh. You never stop, do you?” Knox pinned me with a gaze that would have any criminal squirming.

“Nope. I’ll rest when I’m dead.”

“Careful what you wish for.” Knox cocked his head.

I nodded at him. “Say hi to Amy for me.” I strolled away.

“Hey, Colton . . .” Knox called to me.

I glanced at him over my shoulder.

“Watch out for the one-eyed monsters in that cave.” He barely got the words out before he burst out laughing.

Laughing with him, I exited the room.

I bumped into Wyatt, Ty, and Hunter as I crossed through headquarters, and they all wished me luck with my next tour group. Having their support was critical to my sanity. They were good listeners when I needed to blow off steam when a tourist pushed all the wrong buttons in me.

Diving was a dangerous sport. Especially in the cave that I had exclusive rights to.

But diving with young tourists, who sometimes didn’t have a brain in their skull or ignored the rules, was a sure-fire way to get killed.

In the parking lot, I strode to my brand-new F150 truck. The pickup was a recent purchase that I probably should have put off for a while. I’d already spent a ton of money setting up my dive business in Mexico. The equipment I needed for the specialty dives in that cave was expensive. But if my calculations were correct, I only needed six more tour groups to book my one-of-a-kind dive experience down there, and I’d get my money back.

Utilizing my specialized diving skills for these cave tours had been my sister’s idea.

After losing my fingers and my career in that aircraft carrier accident, I headed down an intense spiral.

But thanks to Ebony and her dogged determination and sometimes annoying presence, I’d dragged myself out of that cesspit. Ebony had shown me the light, and my fellow ex-Navy SEAL team had shown me there was life after the military.

I’d thought losing my career was the end of the world.

It wasn’t. It was the beginning of a whole new world.

Diving in that underground cave in Mexico was like that . . . a whole new world.

Except one wrong move and it was a death trap.

For some fucked-up reason, I had a niggling feeling that the five tourists I was leading into the cave this weekend would test that theory.