Jackson
The transport chopper lands back in Little Creek around four, and my feet are on the tarmac two seconds later. I jog toward my truck, waving to my teammates and commander behind me. I’ve got somewhere to be.
A short time later, I’m knocking on Caleb’s apartment door, still in uniform. He answers, wearing a grin and steps out of the way for the big, black boxer to intercept me at the door. Captain whimpers and yips happily, nearly knocking me down when I stoop to greet her. “Hey, girl. That’s right. Who’s your daddy?”
She dances and licks my face, continuing to “talk” to me. I talk back, carrying on the pretend conversation. “I hear you’re building up quite the resume.”
Caleb laughs. “She’s a hell of a wingman.”
“And that’s on top of being an undercover agent,” I say, standing and patting the boxer’s head.
I study my son, who’s much more man than boy now and at eye level with me. He shares my dirty-blond hair and his mother’s smile. “Sorry about missing breakfast. I didn’t expect to be put on alert again so soon.”
“Don’t sweat it, Dad. How about burgers and a beer instead?”
My stomach growls, and I give it a pat. “Ooh. Now you’re talking.”
I walk out to my truck and grab clothes from the go-bag I keep ready. After a quick change in Caleb’s guest bathroom, we drive to 80/20 and sit at an outdoor table with Captain.
The air is warm as I sip on the cold brew. “Shit, this is good.”
Caleb tosses Captain a fry as I take a bite of my Alamo burger, groaning with pleasure.
“Damn, Dad. You two need a minute alone?”
“Shut up,” I say with a mouth full of grilled goodness. Once I’ve swallowed, I add, “You try being without decent food for a month and hear how you sound.”
My son chuckles and looks down, mumbling to himself, “That ain’t all you’ve been without.”
“Excuse me. What was that?”
Caleb looks up, unable to hide his grin. As he studies me, his smile fades, giving me the idea that he was only half-kidding. He looks so grown that it startles me for just a second. “Dad, I’m glad you and Mom have always gotten along.”
He pauses, and so do I. My insides twist, but it’s not in hunger this time. “Okay,” I say, more in question than anything else. When Caleb doesn’t continue, I give him a little nudge with my elbow.
He finds his courage and asks, “Why didn’t you ever marry?”
The question surprises me. It’s not something I would have expected to come from my son. I know he’s serious, so I take the time to form a real answer.
“I don’t know. For a long time, all my focus went into making sure you and your mom were taken care of. Between that and the Navy, I didn’t have the time.”
Caleb’s shoulders stiffen, making me realize how that came out. “No, that’s not right, and I wouldn’t want you to feel like you’re the reason. Truthfully, I just never thought about it…until recently.”
Eyes like his mother’s widen in shock. “You’ve been thinking about it? Who is she?”
I put my burger down and hold up my hands. “Whoa. Hold on. Just because I’ve been thinking about it doesn’t mean… There is no she.”
My son’s grin is back and even more playful this time. “Okay. Who is he, then?”
I roll my eyes. “Okay, smartass. Yes, I’ve been thinking about it, but have no specific target in sight.”
“Bullshit.”
Leaning back, I scoff at what this light conversation has become. “What do you mean, bullshit? Have you become a mind reader, college boy?”
Caleb shrugs. “You tipped your shoulder when you answered. That’s your tell.”
Mentally rolling back the instant replay, I realize the mistake that has cost me many large poker pots. “You and your damned criminal justice classes,” I grumble. “Fine. There is a she that I find interesting, but she seems to have an issue with me, though I don’t know why. I’ve only met her a few times.”
Caleb’s brows rise to meet his longish hair. “If the first date was such a bust, how was there a second?”
“There was never a first. She was at the bar when I met up with Bash for beers. She leads a team with him.”
A devilish look crosses my son’s face. “So, she’s a badass then. Sick. Since you struck out with her, can I get her number?”
“Sure, I’ll get Bash to write it on my shoe, and I’ll stick it up your ass.”
Caleb leans back and crosses his arms, sporting a victorious smile. “Hmm. Sounds to me like you haven’t given up yet.”
I move things around the table, lifting them and making a show of looking for but not finding something.
“What are you doing?” Caleb asks.
“I’m trying to find you some business, so you’ll stay out of mine.”
My son lifts his hands in surrender. “Alright. Alright. I’ll leave you alone. I just don’t want you to be alone forever.” Captain barks, and he adds, “Sorry, girl, but you don’t count.”
Ignoring his half-teasing plea, I say, “Speaking of Captain, I’ve got to ship out soon. Do you have anything coming up in the next two weeks that would keep you from watching her?”
“Nope. Our season’s over. I’ll still be training but on my own schedule. It seems kind of strange for you to be going out again so soon after being gone so long the last time.”
The temptation is there to tell him that I’ll be deploying with the she, but I wouldn’t, even if the mission weren’t so sensitive in nature. “It happens. I’ll give you as much notice as I can.”
“It’s okay, Dad. Don’t worry. Captain and I know the drill.”
Exactly one week later, Fish and I sit in a bar in Svilengrad, waiting for the call to meet up with the rest of our team. We haven’t seen any of our platoon since Virginia or the PMCs since the last meeting when the mission plan was created.
That doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about Chelsea every five minutes. Damn it. Despite my best efforts, I can’t put her out of my head. The mysterious woman is as frustrating as she is alluring. Back to the mission, moron.
A couple of drafts sit on the table for appearance’s sake, but we’re not drinking them. I’ll admit to being tempted. Just the thought of seeing Chelsea again has my leg bouncing and my blood pumping. I wish there was a cure for that. A complicated woman is the last thing I need on my mind right now. I check my watch for the fifth time in ten minutes, wondering where everyone else is hidden in this tiny hamlet.
SEALs and contractors are scattered throughout the city at various other restaurants, shops, and bars. We’d all flown into either Plovdiv International or Varna International airports, seventy and one-hundred-and-thirty miles away, respectively, then rented cars to reach the closest city to our target. The groups were limited to two or four people to avoid attracting attention.
This town is where Knot’s outfitter, an Indian man named Sambi, is to meet us with some of the gear needed for our mission. While I’m not a fan of relying on civilians for equipment, Bash assures me I won’t be disappointed.
Fish brings his beer to his mouth, pretending to take a sip. “So…”
My eyes roll at that mocking, inquisitive tone, and I reach up to knead the two-inch scar on my neck. Memories of that mission still haunt me. I nearly lost my entire platoon to a suicide bomber. Not all of us made it out. I was critically wounded and lost one of my best men, a redneck named Tater.
Fish is still grinning at me, so I push the useless thoughts away. “Don’t start with me,” I warn.
“Hey, I’m just being a responsible squad leader here. Since we’ll be working with Danforth, I need to reconcile the woman you chased out of the bar with the woman who was invaluable in planning this mission.”
“There’s nothing to reconcile. Bash said she was solid. You’ve now seen the proof.”
“Well, then. That leads me to believe you did something to piss her off.”
Grabbing my glass, I take a small sip and swallow. “I didn’t do anything. Chelsea is just…viscerally uninterested.”
Because I refuse to meet Fish’s eyes, he drops his head to look up at me. “And?”
“What do you mean, and? There is no and. If she’s not interested, I’m not interested.”
“Oh. So that’s why you couldn’t keep your eyes off her anytime we were meeting with them. You’re no longer interested.”
My face pinches, and I give Fish the stink eye. “Has anybody ever told you how annoying you are?”
Fish lets out a deep belly laugh right as my sat phone begins to ring. “Thank god,” I mumble, picking up the device. “Go.”
O’Reilly says, “I’m texting you an address. Be there by nineteen hundred.”
A glance at the phone screen says we’ve got two hours. “Nineteen hundred,” I confirm.
I stand and pull a few Lev notes from my pocket and drop them on the bar. Yet another good thing about working with Dillan Knot. He had the foresight and connections to have the local currency for each of us before leaving the States.
Fish and I wait until we’re in the rented car before opening the encrypted message from mission support, which consists of O’Reilly, Knot, and Birdie Crenshaw. Now that we know where we’re going, we search for a restaurant nearby to get dinner and kill time.
At seven, we arrive at an auto shop near the Maritsa River. The two-bay shop is a little snug with all thirty-two of us, plus the mysterious Sambi, his assistant, and the shit ton of gear he’s got ready and waiting.
In defiance of Fish’s taunting, I resolve to keep from looking toward Chelsea. I only slip four, maybe five times while Sambi walks us through the equipment he brought. She’s currently hiding between Sadie and Dani, a severe presence with a sleek, black ponytail. I hear she was former Secret Service. I’m a little afraid of her.
Once during my accidental glances, I notice Chelsea watching me and get a thrill when her cheeks redden at being caught.
Sambi passes out our gear bags, and afterward, Knot and O’Reilly join the meeting via tablet screen. “We’ve got eyes on the area. With less than two miles between towns and the border crossing, once we confirm the arrival of the assault team, you’ll only have seconds to react.”
“That’s all we’ll need,” Wrench declares. “The BZ gas canisters are rigged with remote on and off controls.”
The two men in Virginia nod. “You know the plan. Watch your radio transmissions and stick to the script. Call in when you’re in position. Bennett, bring them all back.”
The screen goes black after I tip my chin in promise. I scan all thirty-one faces of my expanded team. “You know what’s at stake here. These people want to kill us SEALs to destroy you PMCs. We’re not going to let them. Stay invisible and stay alive.”
The team begins to split into groups, half assigned to the border town as fake train spotters and the rest tasked with setting up the decoy and BZ gas. Fish clears his throat beside me, grabbing my attention. I glance his way just in time to watch him check a grin. “One more thing,” Fish begins. “In case someone had the same idea as us and has already set up nearby, a SEAL and PMC should be hip to hip at all times. If Chelsea’s right, hitting a contractor is counter to their narrative, so your proximity will keep the SEALs safe.”
Meddling bastard. He has a point, but I’m still going to kick his ass…later. “You heard the man. Pair up. Danforth, you’re with me.”