SEAL Brotherhood Lucas Page 9
Everyone started adding their two cents. But Coop and Kyle were staring at each other like they shared something no one else knew about. Kyle hushed the raucous spouting off. Lucas knew it was nervous repartee, helping to mask how uneasy everyone felt about this whole situation. “Wait a minute guys,” Kyle continued. “Coop has a point. So listen up.” He turned to Collins and then glanced over at Forsythe.
“I’ll take that,” said Forsythe. “We’re instituting something for them, too. Similar. We’re going to embed some extra protection. We’re also coordinating with the local sheriff and police, on a very limited basis, not with the rank and file, so while you’re gone on training, or, if we don’t have a more favorable outcome, we may delay deployment. Just not sure yet what that’s going to look like.”
“In the meantime, we’re traveling out of state,” said Kyle.
Fredo shouted out, “Snow gear or swim trunks?”
Some of their jungle training was in Baja, some in Florida, or desert training in Las Vegas. Alaska was always good for cold-weather exercises.
“Neither,” barked Forsythe. He took two steps to the side, assuming the wide stance some of the officers were known for, arms crossed behind his back. He inhaled sharply, gave them a half smile and shouted, “Gentlemen, we’re headed to Tennessee.”
Chapter 15
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MARCY AND NICK drove up to Cloverdale in Lucas’ truck mid-morning.
“Sorry about the inconvenience, Nick. I thought I was saving you some time.”
“No need to apologize, but you gotta pay attention, Marcy. It comes with the territory.”
She knew he was right. “You know we hardly know each other, Nick. There is so much about Lucas I’m just learning.”
“Afraid I can’t help you there. But even if I could, we don’t do that.”
Marcy knew it was an uphill battle. It was a long-shot that the two of them would wind up together, and now she began to feel guilty she’d said yes to marrying him. In fact, as she thought about all the decisions she’d made, especially the one about “screwing the husband of the divorcing clients,” which was a huge no-no on every scale possible, she was ashamed. She might have even jeopardized her job at Coronado Bay.
Nick tuned in on a country satellite station, taking some of the tension out of the air. She crossed and uncrossed her arms and legs and began chewing down a nail. The countryside was green with rows of vineyards, but the brown earth and commercial buildings detracted from the beauty of the several wineries they passed on their way. Traffic bothered her. The bugs on the truck’s windshield bothered her. She didn’t like one of the songs, and she wished she was back in San Diego, near the ocean, near the blue water and the breeze that was ever present.
Her cell rang. Nick turned down the radio station so she could answer it. “This is Marcy.”
“Where the devil are you, Marcy?” Her broker’s voice sounded shrill.
“Sorry, Joe. I’m up here in Sonoma County, looking at my client’s real estate. She asked me to do it.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes.” Marcy’s stomach flip-flopped, and she squeezed the phone against her ear.
“I’ve had some complaints from other agents; they can’t get hold of you.”
“I’ve gotten no calls, Joe. I’ll be back in a day or two.”
“Good idea, Marcy. Say, you give that SEAL’s wife your cell?”
“I did. Why?”
“Not sure, but she’s been talking to Gail here in the office, you know, the new agent married to the football player?”
“Oh yes.”
“I guess they’re friends. I’d watch my back on that one.”
“Joe, there’s a little situation there I need to go over with you.” Marcy looked sideways at Nick who was pretending he couldn’t hear. “I’m going to give up their listing. Coming up here, well, it’s changed my perspective a bit.” Then she felt Nick’s eyes on her as she tried to speak to the passenger window softly, seeking some privacy. “I just can’t represent them. I don’t feel like I can get along with Connie.”
“Then talk with Gail, or someone else about referring it, Marcy. But do it quick.”
“Will do. As soon as I get back.”
“I’d do it by phone. I’d talk to your client today.” Joe hung up.
Was she ready to confront Connie, and do it by phone, not in person like she’d planned? She’d thought she would have the long drive home to San Diego to rehearse and think about how to tell Connie, so it wouldn’t blow up in her face. Not being present in person was more dangerous.
“So the wifey doesn’t know you and Lucas are an item? That what I’m hearing?” Nick asked.
“Afraid so.”
Nick was mercifully quiet. Marcy knew what he was thinking. This also wasn’t a very good way to gain points with her college friend and her husband either. Marcy sighed. She was messing up on all fronts.
“I really screwed things up, Nick,” she said at last.
“Roger that, Marcy. You got yourself one hell of a problem. And it’s going to be a problem for Lucas, too, even if he didn’t think about all this beforehand.”
No, they certainly hadn’t thought about anything. All that mattered at the time, and for the two days afterward, was the chemistry between them, how she felt being around Lucas.
The sounds of the truck filled the deadly silence between them.
Nick continued. “We do so many things well overseas, because we’re trained to do it over and over again. All this stuff? Divorce, selling houses, dating? I can’t say our community does it very well. We’re used to jumping in without thinking. Can’t do that at home. And that’s a hard lesson to learn. Took me awhile to settle down to being a civilian.”
She appreciated his candor and realized she was getting more of a glimpse of the community, way more than she probably deserved.
“But you eventually did, Nick? You eventually made the switch over?”
He nodded, staring right as they pulled off into the woods north of town. “I got injured and that helped the choice. But I couldn’t do it back down there in San Diego. It would’ve driven me nuts. But yes, eventually.” He smiled back at her, his honest green eyes giving her a steady hand-up. “Not saying I don’t miss it sometimes, though.” He splayed his right hand as it rested on top of the steering wheel. “Just being perfectly honest.”
Marcy gave him instructions, and in a few minutes they pulled down the now-familiar dirt driveway.
“I can see why he wanted you to come here in the daytime. And you do know there are pot growers all over here, right?”
“He told me.”
“Used to be a big problem when people would stumble onto someone’s field and get shot. Now I think these people grow inside temperature-controlled buildings, the big operations, that is. And they don’t do the pot forests like the old days.”
“Speaking from first-hand knowledge?” Marcy said as she opened her door and hopped out.
“Not me. My folks, believe it or not.”
“You know I got lost coming here yesterday. There are little roads and trails all over the place up here. When I came the first time, I used my GPS. But not everything up here is on that map.”
Nick walked to the front stoop. “Nice up here. Very remote, though. You don’t ever want to be at this place alone.”
Marcy nodded and inserted the key into the front door. Fear coursed through her when she discovered it was unlocked. She was sure she had locked it when she left.
She instantly knew someone had been inside the home even before she saw the mess left behind. The cupboards had been ransacked. Cushions in the living room had been torn open, white pieces of cotton stuffing fell like snow over the floor. A long wooden cabinet door was broken off the hinges, splinters covering the braided rug in front of it. A metal lock was discarded. Nick ran to the bare cabinet first.
“Was this empty?”
“I have no idea.”
“I’m going to go look around outside. You check for anything that might be missing, if you can tell.”
Contents had been removed from the bathroom cabinet and strewn over the floor. Several vitamin and aspirin bottles had been opened and their tablets were absorbing water, turning to paste. Someone had used the toilet, not been very careful about their aim and not flushed it.
Marcy checked the bedroom closet. Every box or bag was opened, and open-ended. Books were removed from the desk in the corner. The cushions on the overstuffed reading chair were sliced open and stuffing was removed just like in the living room.
She wondered what the motive of the breakin had been. The urine left in the toilet made her think druggie kids might be the culprits.
Nick entered the bedroom just as she’d discovered the bedroom window latch had been pried off the wooden sash, which still remained open. “I think this is how they got in,” she told him.
Nick fingered the cut marks in the window frame. “I’m not liking this. I’ve got to get hold of Lucas. You sure you never saw this gun cabinet loaded with weapons?”
“No. I think the weapons are still in the second seat of the truck.”
“What the fuck?” Nick’s eyes squinted. He cocked his head. “What are you saying, Marcy?”
“The large black bag he was most concerned about is in the back seat of his truck. He wanted me to make sure you helped me. I forgot all about it when I got home last night. It’s still there.”
Nick ran outside, ripping open the second seat door, removing the blanket and placed the bag over the other items on the bench. As he unzipped it, Marcy could see over his shoulder a huge weapon nearly four feet long. There were several smaller bags, which Nick quickly checked through, and she noticed several contained large sharply-tipped brass rounds in neat rows. Another weapon, much shorter and stubby, looking like a small machine gun, was wrapped in a dirty blue towel. He undid pockets on the front of the bag, pulling out a couple thick knives with serrated edges. Marcy was looking at the bag belonging to a killing machine. Something deep in her stomach churned and her mouth became parched.
The sun was making her dizzy and she stepped back.
Nick made sure the black nylon was well hidden under the old blanket, and turned to address her.
“You’re not used to all this, so I have to forgive you for some of your stupid mistakes, but Marcy, no more. You’ve made a whole boatload of bad decisions, starting with leaving unattended a very dangerous weapon and enough rounds of ammo to kill a hundred people. In the wrong hands, these things are deadly. Could cost you and everyone you love their lives. So, I’m going to give it to you straight. Don’t make this fuckin’ mistake again. I’m not letting you drive to San Diego alone to return them to Lucas. And I know sure as shit he’s going to need them very soon.”
“Sorry.”
“No. Just doing what he’d do if he was here. Marcy,” He stepped forward so quickly she jumped, flinching when he grabbed her shoulders. “You don’t do shit like this again. You watch everything. You never leave a weapon lying around where it can be stolen, or found by police, understood?”
“Yes.” She couldn’t help it, but her lower lip was quivering. If she wasn’t so afraid, she’d be breaking down into a sob, seeking the comfort of Nick’s arms.
“Okay, gotta call Lucas. You feel okay about starting to clean up in there?”
“Yes. Again, Nick, I’m—”
Nick had dialed Lucas and interrupted her. “Hey, asshole. You wanna tell me what you were doing with an M27 and a fuckin’ MP5 in the back seat while your girlfriend and my wife go shopping for bagels and coffee and shit?”
Marcy was glad she couldn’t hear Lucas’ response.
Chapter 16
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MOUSTAFA WAS GLAD he’d seen the woman who was fated to come into his web yesterday. He’d dreamt about her all night long as he pleasured himself lying on the mattress out under the stars. When he’d heard an owl hooting in the distance, he grew cautious, washed his hands in the hose bib by the garden and retired inside for the rest of the evening.
His two recruits read their books by candlelight. Moustafa was trying to use as little energy as he could, and liked the idea that the boys were learning their sacred studies just as the Prophet had centuries ago, by candlelight.
God is great.
He knew where she had come from, and he’d scouted the little cabin earlier in the month. So he had reason to go back now. As the dawn was breaking he and the others hiked a path through the heavy woods. He chuckled that the recruits would be scratching their skin off the next day, as the forest was full of poison oak. Moustafa knew the best thing was to take a cold shower afterwards, use his Tech-Nu and then blot his skin dry. He wouldn’t get the pox of western man that way. But the boys needed to experience the uncomfortable results while they meditated and did their prayers.
God is great.
He’d seen the gun cabinet on the previous scouting and was most anxious to open it and steal what he thought would surely be some weaponry inside. But that was not to be. The flimsy pine cabinet only held cobwebs and spiders. Even the refrigerator was empty.
He relished shredding the couch pillows, tossing all the dishes and glassware like they were made of paper. His recruits took his lead and destroyed the bathroom. Nothing was found that was of use. The books were unreadable, the magazines worse, although his recruits stole the ones with the naked women in them, thinking Moustafa wouldn’t catch them hiding the folded lust books in their clothes. They were like schoolboys upset with being harshly punished, angry that there wasn’t anything to eat in the refrigerator, which was still partially cold, justified to help themselves to the infidel’s debauched way of life.
He was going to turn on the water and let it run, perhaps burn up the pump and drain the well, but he wanted to watch her shower again, like he’d watched the night before when the big man was there fucking her on his knees with his lips, fucking her from behind and letting her fuck him between her breasts. He would enjoy taking her apart bit by bit, if the opportunity presented itself. It could be a teaching moment for his recruits, who would soon have to do the same. He’d show them an infidel was not like a real woman, one of their believers. They were too used to their mothers and sisters, but they’d learn, in time. Showing them how to properly kill an infidel would toughen them up.
He heard the high-pitched whine of the infidel’s truck from a mile away only an hour after they’d started searching the cabin. They’d had just enough time to run back toward the mother house. Moustafa jumped in the shower and put on clean pajama pants and a loose fitting Humboldt State t-shirt, watching as one by one, both of his new recruits began to scratch their skin. He didn’t feel a thing.
God is great.
By now, she would have found the cabin altered. Moustafa would wait until nightfall and then creep back and perhaps spy on her sleeping there. Perhaps look for items in the vehicle she wouldn’t think to lock up.
He got out his yellow-lined tablet, working on his plan for new recruits arriving this fall, all arranged through a refugee humanitarian program administered by the church group they bought the camp from.
God is great.
America was indeed the land of opportunity. They had no idea what they were willingly giving away. It was a sign from the Prophet they could walk right in and claim what was theirs. The Kingdom of Heaven would reign supreme for all the true believers. And those who did not submit, would be eliminated. There was only one path to Heaven and all roads led there, whether or not the hapless Americans knew it or not.
He smiled as he looked out the window at the bright sunshine. In the dialect of his adopted home, Northern California, he said to himself, ‘God is Awesome!’
/> Chapter 17
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LUCAS HADN’T BEEN able to reach Marcy, but the call with Nick got him worried. They’d all been asked to stay off their cells, unless it was an emergency, so he’d had to end the call quickly without asking how she was doing.
“Can’t talk, Nick. I’ll be dark for a few. Bring that shit home.” He hated to hang up like that, do that to a former teammate, even though they hadn’t served together. But he knew Nick would figure it out.
Their transport was waiting on the tarmac near lunchtime, the big beast gobbling all sixteen of them, with another group coming the following week from two other teams that were redeployed from the Pacific and East Africa. They landed in Park Field as part of the Naval Mid-South command base. The temporary training hangar and cyclone workout area looked like old prison grounds. A small track bordering a roughly patched lawn with goalposts at the end seemed out of place in the dusty heat of the afternoon.
Tyler Gray was the first to say something after they walked their gear toward the yard. “Holy mother fuck. We got ourselves a soccer field.”
Fredo nodded his head. T.J. and Cooper looked toward the sky at the heat of the sun and shook their heads. Lucas stood next to them all, feeling suddenly joyful. “We can have ourselves a scrimmage, gents.”
“Gets mighty hot this time of year,” said Rory.
Lucas turned back to survey the rest of the base. Old planes and bunk buildings, long since unused, littered the area. It did not look like a high-level SEAL facility, but Lucas reminded himself it didn’t take lots of shiny new equipment and paint to make a good target. Even a fresh patch of green lawn wouldn’t do it. They weren’t there to impress anyone. They were flesh and blood bait on a stick.
The team was greeted by a petite woman in blue camo. She wore a whistle around her neck and a stopwatch. She singled out Kyle somehow and shook his hand. “Donna Grant. I’m one of your trainers here.”