Jackson
PT is too damned quiet. This group of assholes is normally loud enough to disturb the ghosts on this island, but today, everyone is too afraid to speak. I know why. It’s because of my very public display with Chelsea yesterday. I’m sure there was a better way to handle it, at least without the audience.
My platoon finishes our run, and I linger on the beach, hoping for a few minutes of solitude before facing the firing squad. O’Reilly left me alone yesterday after returning to base, but I don’t for a second believe that he won’t bust my ass eventually. I wouldn’t even be surprised if he demoted me. It’s no less than I deserve.
Most of my squad heads toward HQ, but Duck sticks around, as do Fish and his men. “Guys, isn’t it bad enough that I’ll get reamed by O’Reilly? Can’t you cut me a break?”
“We’re not looking to bust your balls, man,” Fish says. “Hell, if Willa were offering to do what Chelsea is, I would have already killed Harding.”
“What are you gonna do?” Duck asks. “She won’t go against Knot, so there shouldn’t be anything to worry about.”
Placing a hand on Duck’s shoulder, I shake my head. “I know she won’t, but that’s not the problem.”
Being the coolest head in the bunch, Judge asks, “Then, what is the problem?”
I’m off the hook for an answer when a loud command booms from farther inland. “Bennett, report in!”
Looking back at my team, I shake my head again. “Later, guys… If I’m still breathing.”
I jog toward HQ, wondering how low the commander will bust me. The man isn’t in the lobby, so my imagination runs wild a little longer on my way to his office.
“Shut the door,” he barks as soon as I step inside.
I do, and then I’m commanded to take a seat. “Knot’s people are planning to take another run at Harding.”
I snicker and self-correct quickly. “Yes, sir. I’m well aware.”
Cocking an eyebrow, he says, “It’s a good move.”
“If you say so.”
“You don’t agree?” he asks to provoke me.
“You know damn well what I think… Sir.”
O’Reilly steeples his fingers and leans back in his chair. “Pretend I don’t, Lieutenant.”
His tone left no room for disobedience, so I answer the man despite how stupid it seems. “Harding won’t tell her shit. He wants to fuck her and use her as an ATM. He’ll string her along, and Chelsea will let him.”
“You have that little faith in Danforth?”
“No. I believe it because I have too much. The woman would die to save a stranger. Giving up her dignity to save the livelihoods of thousands of people is a no-brainer.”
O’Reilly drops his hands and leans forward. “I agree. And so does Knot. He wants assurances Danforth won’t go through with it.”
I look past my commander to the pictures on his wall. “Knot’s got a whole company of assurances.”
“We want you.”
I don’t hold in my bitter laugh. “Well, that’s too bad because Chelsea doesn’t.”
“Well, Chelsea’s not in charge here.”
“Sir, with all due respect, you know that’s not what this is about. Why don’t you cut the bullshit and tell me why I’m here.”
The commander turns to stare out the window overlooking the ocean. “Knot says something’s happening with Danforth. She’s not herself.”
“I happened to her,” I mumble.
“What was that?”
“Nothing happened to Chelsea. She’s acting like herself. That’s the problem. She’s always been someone else. Now that she’s trying to be herself, she’s suddenly not good enough.”
“No one is saying that,” O’Reilly asserts.
“Aren’t they?”
My boss shrugs. “Maybe they are. I don’t know the woman, but I think you do.”
“What’s your point, Commander?”
“There is no point. I just want the best man on the job, and right now, that seems to be you.”
“You need someone Chelsea listens to. That isn’t me. Now, unless you’re ordering me to return to Knot Corp., I’ll ask to be dismissed to my men.”
“Your team’s status is still listed as deployed and will remain that way until this meeting happens. I suggest you remain ready to move at a moment’s notice.”
I stand and come to attention, but I don’t know what I need to be ready for. “Yes, sir.”
The commander dismisses me, but when I exit HQ, all my men are gone. No surprise there. With our status being what it is, we don’t have any workup or support assignments. They’ve all gone to be with their families, those who have them. I go home to my dog.
Captain is happy to see me as she is each time I walk through the door. I’ve neglected the poor boxer lately, so I change and pack us up for the beach. Captain loves catching frisbees in the surf, and I could use the time away from everything.
Captain runs and plays like a pup until my arm screams from throwing the disk. I plop onto the sand, pull a beer from the small cooler, and set up a bowl for Captain. She slurps and splashes the cold water until flopping onto the sand beside me. “You’re my best girl, Captain. Why can’t all women be uncomplicated like you?”
I pat her head and take a long pull of the beer. “I mean, what the hell am I supposed to do? There’s no winning here. Everything I try works for a while, then blows up in my face.”
She ignores the question and me, content to watch a group of gulls nearby. “Figures.”
Since I get no help from my dog or the sea, I pack up to go home. Dinner is an underwhelming roast beef sandwich eaten in front of the TV. I take a long, hot shower and go to bed early instead of moping around the house.
Lying in the dark later, I give up on going to sleep. I’ve tortured myself by replaying that night in Spain. Chelsea could have run to Fish, and I wouldn’t have touched her. She ran to me instead, knowing what would happen.
I get lost remembering the way she submitted to me, her passion. My reaction to even her memory is too strong to resist. I pull my dick out of my shorts and squeeze. Chelsea’s whimpers and moans as I feasted on her still vibrate my chest. Her nails still rasp over my scalp as they did when I claimed her body and soul. As her memory demands more space in my head, I squeeze harder and pump faster until cum spurts all over my stomach.
The manufactured orgasm hollows me out, and I’m left wrecked, just like I was this morning.
The next day passes much the same except that instead of the beach, I spend the evening prowling the SEAL bar, hoping Bastien might show up. Of course, I could have called him, but I didn’t want it to look like I was desperate for company.
He hasn’t shown up by eight, so I call my new best friend.
“What’s up, Dad?”
“I was just… Are you busy?”
“Not particularly. Want me to come over?”
“I’ve got a better idea.”
Twenty minutes later, Caleb walks into the bar and slides into the booth opposite me. “You look like shit.”
“Please. Don’t hold back on my account.”
Caleb laughs. “What’s going on?”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I need your help.”
The playfulness on Caleb’s face dries up instantly. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I just need… These women you read about.”
“Yeah,” he presses when I don’t continue.
“What happens when they start to feel things? I mean, do women freak out when they catch feelings for the male character?”
Caleb’s brow pinches. “Look, Dad, I don’t think_”
Ready to beg at this point, I do just that. “Tell me. Please.”
After a quick sigh, Caleb says, “I assume you’re looking for negative behaviors. Since you’re the one chasing, I’ll eliminate some on the list. What’s left are the worst. Women like yours might succumb to their anxiety and second-guess their feelings, dismissing the relationship. Worse still, a woman might be so afraid of being rejected that they avoid their potential partner or even sabotages the relationship.”
“A self-fulfilling prophecy,” I comment.
“Basically.”
“I left her,” I confess ruefully. “Chelsea lashed out because she was scared, and I left her. After I told her I wouldn’t, I walked away.”
“Dad. You can’t fix somebody.”
“Chelsea does not need to be fixed.” Caleb pales at how softly I’d spoken, but I’m not done yet. “Too many people in Chelsea’s life have told her that she’s broken. It’s time Chelsea learns she’s perfect the way she is.”
“Dad.” My son’s placating tone has me grinding my teeth. “You’ve been tied up in knots for weeks because of this woman. I don’t think you should_”
“I’m in love with her.”
“But, Dad_”
“Chelsea is mine. I just needed a kick in the ass to remind me. Thank you for your help and insight, but from here on out, I’ve got this.” He starts to speak again, but I stop him once more. “And when you meet her, she gets a clean slate. Got it?”
Caleb nods, and a smirk tilts his lips for the first time since the start of this conversation. “Got it.”
I hug Caleb as usual when we call it a night, and afterward, I shake his hand.
Sack time comes after doing a load of laundry. I go to bed feeling a lot better. Hopeful even. Yeah, I let my pride put me in a tailspin, and yes, I have some groveling to do with Chelsea. I can honestly say I’m looking forward to it. So much so that when I take my dick in hand, it’s to thoughts of what I’m going to do to Chelsea the next time I get my hands on her.
My Chelsea craving has me up and on base early the next morning. I don’t know why. It does me no good to be here before my platoon. I kill time cleaning my service weapon, ready to start as soon as my men arrive. The sooner we get going, the sooner it’s over, and I can find my woman.
I don’t want her to see me coming, so I’ve messaged Bash_several times_to get a rundown on where they’ll be today. He hasn’t answered a single text. I’m worried that means things are moving fast in their mission to bag Harding. Until I hear something, all I can do is focus on my job here and not getting my ass kicked. Today is close quarters combat tactics, and the commander surprises us by coming out to observe.
Halfway through the session, Commander O’Reilly takes the field, causing a curious pause in activity. Somehow, I know he’s headed straight for me. “I’ll take over here, Fischer,” he says, dismissing my current sparring partner.
“He’s all yours, Commander,” Ink drawls in his Aussie accent.
Walking to the nearest man, Ink puts Hawk, one of Fish’s snipers, in a headlock, which the smaller man quickly breaks out of. O’Reilly shakes his head and faces me, quickly settling into a fighting stance. I mirror him and wait for my boss to make the first move.
The leader of SEAL Team Two produces a rubber dagger and strikes for my middle. I dodge, grab his wrist, and spin, disarming him and delivering a strike of my own. I’m at an advantage, having fifteen years on the guy. Maybe I should take it easy.
When I send a strike of my own, Stone reminds me why he’s the base commander. I’m on my knees a second later with the rubber blade at my throat.
“Feeling any better, Pin?” O’Reilly lifts the blade to allow me to answer.
“I may have experienced a shift in conviction.”
I’m released from the hold, and O’Reilly stands. “Good because a meeting with the target is set for eight hours from now, and I think you should be there.”
That explains Bastien’s silence. “I think so, too.”
“Finish up here and head to Knot Corp. Birdie will catch you up, and Knot will get you to DC.”
“Who else is going with me?”
O’Reilly rests his hands on his hips and shakes his head. “Nobody. Knot only needs you.”
Commander O’Reilly withdraws to his office, and I return to the day’s training with a little more enthusiasm. Eight hours to Chelsea.
Four hours later, I’m on a Knot Corp. chopper flying toward the capitol, still in uniform. I never heard back from Bash, but he’ll hear plenty from me when I see him. The bastard has had plenty of time to send a simple message. I’m convinced he’s just messing with me.
I arrive at the Willard thirty minutes before showtime. I text Bash to let him know I’m here, figuring he’s too busy to answer a call. He answers within seconds this time. You’re on surveillance. Room 320.
Hoisting my bag over my shoulder, I trot up the stairs and knock on the door. Kai answers, holding a headphone speaker to his ear. He motions me toward a mobile command station and passes a spare headset toward me. “The show hasn’t started yet. Chelsea’s at a back table within sight of Sadie and Aaron.”
“Is she mic’d up?” I ask the men.
Bash answers, “Camera at the table, and she’s wearing a mic in her necklace.”
“Earpiece?”
“No. Just like Spain, we didn’t want to chance Harding seeing it.”
I hesitate to ask the next question. “Does Chelsea know I’m here?”
The answer is pretty much what I expect. “No.”
I don’t dwell on what that might mean. I take the empty chair between the two PMCs and focus on the four screens. Kai gestures to each one, walking me through the setup. “Sadie’s view is here. The empty view is the flower cam at Yeet’s table. Aaron’s camera will show us when Harding arrives. This one”_he points to the last screen_“is the camera Chelsea’s wearing.”
“Why is it so close to the tabletop?”
“It’s ah…” the man stammers. “We couldn’t place it any higher because of her dress. It’s kind of low-cut to catch Harding’s attention.”
I shake off the visual of her naked breasts and thoughts of someone else seeing them. Clearing my throat, I settle in to watch.
Harding eventually passes through the rich, dark-wood entrance, pausing to leer when he spots Chelsea. Beyond that, he behaves as a proper government official until a host arrives to escort them to their table.
My surveillance partners do not react well to this. That, paired with Aaron and Sadie’s worried updates, tells me this wasn’t part of the plan. As Chelsea and Harding leave the opulent bar, we lose all reliable views.
Sadie and Aaron abandon their post to join us since they can no longer observe the pair in person. Over the next-half hour, we listen to and watch Chelsea’s valiant effort to coax information from the sleazy politician.
Harding keeps looking almost directly at the camera low on Chelsea’s chest, perving at her boobs. After the tenth time, Bash clamps a hand on my shoulder. “Stand down, Lieutenant.”
I’m through listening when the bastard puts his hands on Chelsea. I get halfway upright when Aaron steps in to help Bastien restrain me. “Stop,” Bash whispers. “She won’t do it. Listen to her. Chelsea’s playing him beautifully. I think he’s close to letting the name slip. He’s already shared more than I thought he would.”
“I don’t give a fuck about Harding. I only care that Chelsea can look at herself in the mirror tomorrow.”
“I told you she won’t go through with it. You’re going to have to trust me.”
Though my whole body wants to tear this room apart, I sit back down and pull my headset back on. One of Harding’s hands disappears beneath the table, and my jaw clenches so tight I’m in danger of shattering my teeth.
After a few more seconds of not seeing Harding’s hands, I’m ready to have a stroke. Chelsea whispers, and I latch onto her voice. “I’m glad you found someone you could trust.”