NICK AND MICAH filed into the room they affectionately deemed The War Zone. Other members of Support Activity 1 entered behind them, excitement from the Labor Day festivities fading in light of a looming mission. The summer moon and pop of fireworks seemed distant now as Nick’s mind honed in on unfinished business. His fiery kiss with Kaylan in the Pacific felt like a dream, smothered in the light of reality.
“This better be about Janus,” he mumbled to Micah as they took their seats and waited for Senior Chief to speak. Her trail had gone cold as soon as he returned from Haiti two months before, and Nick itched to catch this terrorist, woman or not.
Senior Chief Collin “X” Williams paced the front of the room. He was so named for Professor X from his favorite comic, X-Men. He had the innate ability to read his men, assess their strengths and weaknesses, and send them into combat prepared. Nick knew he had measured every angle of the mission before briefing the team.
“Sorry to pull you away from the party, but duty calls. At zero three hundred hours we picked up satellite feed of a terrorist cell moving weapons over the border into Iran. We believe the weapons originated in Ukraine and Russia from our one and only.”
Micah glanced at Nick, his brown eyes expectant. Payback would be sweet.
“Janus slipped her shadow. Her last known location is Yalta, Ukraine, and we believe she is still there. Not sure where her boss is, but we believe he resides somewhere in Russia. If we can catch this slippery fish, we may be able to catch the shark behind her.” X rubbed his hands in anticipation. Unlike his comic book character, X boasted a full head of fiery red hair and a freckled face, browned by years in the sun. A toothpick hung from his mouth, forcing him to talk through gritted teeth. Nick often wondered how many toothpicks he’d swallowed.
“I want this chick bad. Her shipments are wreaking havoc on our boys in the sandbox, and I’ve had about all I want to take of being the loser in this scenario. It’s our turn. She believes she’s safe. This time we have the upper hand. I’m sending a team of six. You leave in forty hours. I need a working plan in twelve. This is a capture, no-kill mission. But do whatever you need to do to bring her in. Let’s get busy.” He tossed the toothpick in the general direction of the trash can as he exited the room.
The War Zone broke into a flurry of activity as the men jumped from their seats and pulled out maps of the terrain, ocean, and city. Nick paused to assess the action, studying each team member. He’d worked with all of these men before, trusted them, would give his life for them. As much as Nick could take care of himself, the SEALs innately operated in team mentality, an ideal that was beaten into every man throughout BUD/S. Each man used his strengths and abilities to play a role in planning and execution. All in. All hands. All the time.
Colt stood at the white board at the front of the room studying the mission details. Short and stocky, he had sandy hair mixed with faint traces of gray, giving him a distinguished look amidst his boyish charm.
The son of true California hippies, he had rejected his parents’ lifestyle after the tragedy of the twin towers. While pictures of his childhood showed him sporting long locks, his short-cropped hair and brown eyes held a serious tone in adulthood. The terrorist attacks had bred a new generation of patriots, a bright spot in the carnage. A couple years younger than Nick, Colt owned the title of “team daredevil,” always eager to prove himself, and was quite the poker player. Nick winced. He definitely wouldn’t play him again anytime soon.
In the corner of the room, Logan, a veteran on the team, wrestled supplies and made a list of items to take with them. His little girl, Molly, held a special place in Nick’s heart. Logan’s wife, Kim, was pregnant with their fourth, and Nick marveled at the strength of their marriage. Too many SEALs tasted the bitter cup of divorce due to job demands. Nick wasn’t willing to risk that with Kaylan, and he believed he could live up to his calling and marry the most amazing woman he’d ever met.
Besides Nick and Micah, Logan was the only other Christ-follower on the team. Nick firmly believed Logan’s walk with the Lord remained the secret to his marital success. The man radiated calm and strength. “Redeemed” stretched across his bare back in gothic ink letters and drew many questions from their teammates. Logan never hesitated to share his faith. It oozed from every pore of his body in the confident way he led the team and the gentle way he handled his family. No one questioned his leadership or character. No one needed to. As far as Nick could tell, Logan’s only weaknesses were his obsessive love for steak dripping with A-1 sauce and his babbling about the ranches in Montana. Nick left the room every time Logan started in on the topic.
Jay and Titus huddled close together talking logistics with Micah. As evident on the beach, Jay claimed the title of “team prankster.” Built like a quarterback, he never backed down from a fight and usually could be found at the center of the problem. Jay rarely wore anything other than a cocky smile, but behind his deep blue eyes lay a pain and rage none of them dared touch. He was the comms guy of the team, handling communication with headquarters and carrying the big radio. It took him no time to assess a situation and communicate it clearly. Little rattled him under fire.
The team knew Titus as Jay’s better, blacker half. Rarely could they find one without the other. A native Texan, Titus claimed his dreams of becoming a SEAL saved him from the heartache of the gangs. A brilliant mind and talented linguist, Titus blended well in Muslim territory as he spoke Arabic, Farsi, and pieces of local tribal dialects. If he heard it once, he could repeat it. His dark skin bought him friends his white teammates might otherwise deter.
Merging from two different teams, these men accepted the call of Support Activity 1 and ran into danger whenever the situation deemed necessary. They truly defined SEALs, and Nick felt energized and strong in their presence. They would enter together and leave together. No questions. No option. Justice was imperative. Janus continued to claim American lives. Even one was too many.
Kaylan opened her front door floating on a cloud. He loved her. Nick loved her. She leaned against her door and touched her lips. She’d known it all along, just didn’t want to believe it. But she’d felt it in every kiss, every smile, and every encouraging word over the past nine months.
But she knew what loving led to—pain and heartache. Tomorrow didn’t come with guarantees. Regardless of her hesitation, her heart galloped like her mare back at home when given free rein.
A head popped up over the top of the couch, and Kaylan squealed, throwing a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. “Oh, my gosh. Megan! Geez, next time tell me you’re there.”
Kaylan’s roommate rolled her brown eyes beneath thick, long lashes. “Please. I can read your mind from over here. Stop blushing and thinking about soldier boy, or I’m going to puke.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Kaylan rolled with her roommate’s attitude. She found an odd comfort in Megan’s strength of will, even if it tended to repel others. At least they were building somewhat of a friendship in the month they had lived together. Kaylan met Megan through a college friend who’d moved out to California. Megan was three years older than Kaylan’s twenty-three years and in need of a roommate. While emotionally distant and the textbook definition of sarcastic, Megan had a hidden charm that Kaylan felt determined to bring forth.
Megan had inherited a house from a rich grandmother. Situated on the outskirts of San Diego, near Coronado, it was the perfect distance from the SEALs and the beach. It wasn’t extravagant by any means, but with the prices of California real estate, Kaylan was perfectly content with the small space in a good neighborhood. Kaylan paid rent to cover the taxes and utilities, but other than that, the house was paid for.
“You’re so tough.” She ruffled Megan’s nearly black hair as she plopped down on the couch. “Just wait. Someday a nerdy activist will come along and sweep you off your feet. Then you’ll get all mushy and emotional and, heaven forbid, have to talk about feelings. And I’ll be here. Waiting to tell you ‘I told you so’ and full of all these great dating tips I’ve picked up in all my extensive experience.” Kaylan sighed and placed her hand on her heart.
Megan snorted. “You live such a charmed life. My guy won’t want to talk about feelings. They make you weak.”
Her words stung. While Megan knew about Kaylan’s home and family and relationship with Nick, she didn’t know about Sarah Beth or the earthquake. Charmed fell far from Kaylan’s radar. Haunted might be more appropriate.
“So did you actually watch the fireworks, or did you make them?” Megan broke into her silent reverie.
“Megan.”
“C’mon, Kayles. You gotta let loose every once in a while. Just go with what feels good. You’re such a prude. You’re gonna get married anyway. Why does it matter?”
Kaylan shook her head and laughed softly, used to Megan’s criticism of her morals. She struggled with her negativity but knew it covered a deeper issue. Maybe one of these days Megan would trust Kaylan with that secret.
“You know why, Megan. These guys you bring home sometimes . . . do you ever feel good when they leave in the morning?”
She shrugged and her grin turned wicked. A challenge. “Sure. Stress gone, happy, content. No strings attached.”
Kaylan nodded. “What about a few days later?”
Megan’s grin drooped a bit, but she didn’t back down. “What about it?”
“I’ve watched you check your phone, waiting for a call. I’ve heard you cry at night when you think I’m asleep.” Kaylan leaned forward and touched Megan’s knee. “Megan, from the beginning this kind of a relationship was designed for marriage. One man, one woman for life. Nick and I want to wait and experience that after we make a permanent commitment before God and our families.” Maybe Nick could talk to her. He had a past much like Megan’s.
Megan’s eyes frosted in the warm air. “You want to get real, Kaylan? Why do you scream in your sleep? Why do you shout people’s names?” She leaned into Kaylan’s face, her walls blocking any entry, guns loaded and aimed. “I think your faith is your shield and you’re just scared.” In one quick movement she rose from the couch, walked down the hall, and slammed her bedroom door.
Kaylan sighed. “Epic fail, Kaylan,” she mumbled to herself. She couldn’t talk about her nightmares with Megan. It meant talking about the earthquake and her memories. Maybe Megan was right. Maybe she was scared.
She hugged the turquoise throw pillow as her eyes wandered the dark room taking in pictures of Haiti, her and Nick, her family, and a couple photos of Megan and the dolphins at the wildlife conservatory where she worked. Books lined a shelf in the corner of the room in perfect proximity to the overstuffed khaki couches in the middle of the living room. Pink roses sat on the bar, the gateway to the kitchen in their open-floor plan. The smell of the sea hung in the air, reminding Kaylan of the waves kissing her legs as she and Nick stood in the surf.
He loved her, but he was leaving. The reality stung even as her heart raced. She didn’t know how to feel. Megan had one thing right: Kaylan was scared. No doubt about it.
“Lord, give me time with him before he leaves, please. Even a little will help. And please help me figure this out.” She tossed the pillow on the chair and rose to get ready for bed, her overflowing heart battling her scattered mind.