THE STEADY HUM of men preparing for battle greeted Nick and Micah as they reached the team building in Coronado after a long day of travel. It was a familiar sound to Nick. As much as he and Micah loved the brotherhood of SEAL Team 5, serving with Support Activity 1 allowed him to lead and gave them autonomy. They received a mission, executed, and returned home to their place on SEAL Team 5. Fewer guys served with Support Activity, but he respected the relationship they had to build in a short amount of time. Ten guys checked weapons, boats, communication equipment, and radios throughout the room in a calm, controlled manner. Jokes and insults flew in the quiet rhythm of a team who fought and played in sync.
A white board waited against one wall. Frag-O filled the top of the board in messy handwriting. It looked like this mission came straight from the top dogs. A timeline stretched across the board, and Nick’s and Micah’s names each had assignments. As a sniper, Nick was responsible for the first two stages of the mission, route planning on insert, the final foot patrol into the target, and then getting everyone out. It would demand all of his focus.
Senior Chief Collin “X” Williams bent over a table of maps, writing, erasing, and writing again. He was so named for Professor X from his favorite comic, X-Men. His ability to control a situation, not with angry words but with sheer will, immediately commanded the respect of those who followed him. He had the innate ability to read his men, assess their strengths and weaknesses, and send them into combat prepared. He knew the enemy like the back of his hand. It was almost as if he could read their minds. It kept his team alive. He was a veteran and Nick’s mentor.
Nick knew this would be big, and he knew his input would be required. This mission would test him to his limit, and he wasn’t sure he was up to the task. His heart remained in Alabama, and his head felt muddled from lack of sleep.
“Carmichael, Richards. Thanks for showing up, ladies. Now we can get down to business.” The men stilled and gathered around the maps. “Our friends up in Washington have passed on intel that a target by the name ‘Janus’ has resurfaced after a four-year hiatus and is officially making arms deals again. Based on info, the time has come to catch this guy before he sells to our dear friends in the Middle East and they get hold of something that kills a couple hundred of America’s youth. Our job is to gather the last bit of intel—a picture, types of arms, contacts, et cetera. We take him if we can, but we give the bigwigs enough to form a more concrete profile of this guy. Janus is the right-hand man of a much bigger fish. We want to catch both.
“The destination is Nicaragua, and I don’t need to tell you men that this mission is important. If we don’t catch him in the jungle, we’ll have to catch him in the desert, with tangos much more adept at warfare than these druggie goons down south. Make your plans. Hawk, Bulldog, you’ll coordinate and give me a workable plan with multiple options in twelve hours. We leave in thirty-six.”
Nick studied the maps as men moved with a quiet urgency. The target position and extraction point meant humping through the jungle and leaving by sea. The target was meeting a little too far from the water for his comfort. That meant they would need to get in, get the intel, capture Janus, and get out before the sun ascended.
“What do you think, Hawk?”
“I think we have a lot of work ahead of us. And I desperately need some coffee.”
Micah slapped him on the shoulder. “Head still back in Alabama?”
“I hate the way we left things. Too bad I can’t be in two places at once.” He slapped the table, drawing the warning looks of several in the room.
“Get your head in the game. We need you. I’ll get you some coffee.”
“Carmichael.” Nick tensed at the demanding tone. He sauntered across the room to X’s locker and immediately faced the full brunt of his senior chief ’s passion for the job. He fought the urge to react and clenched his jaw. Alabama was no longer in his vision. He saw red.
“Now look here, son. This team needs you, and I need you. Lives are on the line. This is much bigger than that pretty lady of yours. I need to know you can pull it together and take the lead on this target. Lover boys have no place as frogmen. She doesn’t exist on missions. When you enter this room, the only people who exist are your brothers and the guys we live to fight. Got it?”
“Yes, Senior.” Nick gritted his teeth, now angrier with himself than X.
X studied him, and Nick met his eyes, refusing to show weakness. The man could read Nick like one of the comic strips he loved so much. X’s look softened. Regardless of his tough exterior, he cared about each man.
“How is she?”
“Messed up, sir. But she’s tough. It’s just going to take time.”
“She’ll have to be tough to date a SEAL. This isn’t for the faint of heart.” X would know. Wife number three waited for him at home.
Nick nodded and met Micah with his coffee. There was yet another thing he and Kaylan needed to discuss if they wanted this relationship to last. At the moment, he would have to learn the balance. It had been easier on his deployment with Seal Team 5. Kaylan had been a dream, a regret, but nothing concrete. Now, he could still feel her, hear her cries, smell the lavender on her skin when he hugged her. She was real, and she needed him. Yet he had a mission, a pursuit he believed in with his whole heart.
Sorry, Kaylan. You can’t exist in this room.
Nick raised his coffee toward Micah. “All right, Bulldog, let’s get this show on the road.”
The lighthearted smile that had been absent since before Haiti lit Micah’s features, and he raised his mug in reply. “Let’s go get us some bad guys. Save the world. Get you the girl.”
Nick chuckled. “Just another day in the office. And, man, seriously, we’ve got to find you a girl.”