Signed, SEALed, Delivered (Trident Brotherhood #1) Read online

  “My advice to you is be straight with the boy, or call that lawyer father of yours and get a restraining order on him.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Zach

  “CO wants to meet with us at 1300.” Havoc muttered as he adjusted the straps of his rifle, giving me a look of amusement we both knew I shared. As the leader of this team, it was my job to keep my men informed and out of trouble, placing my life in front of theirs. This particular CO hadn't stepped outside of his tent to do more than take a piss. He had no clue what dangers surrounded him out here, or maybe he did and didn't have big enough balls to face them. Either way, this meeting he wanted to have, was pointless.

  “Make sure you wear your shortest skirt so he can appreciate your sexy legs.” Doc butted in, his sense of humor one of our favorite qualities about him. Even if you were taking your last breath, Doc was going to help you make it count.

  “Fuck him, I'm saving that shit for you.” Havoc pulls Doc in close, dramatically kissing his cheek. Doc pushes him off, wiping the residue of the teasing on his sleeve.

  “All right y’all huddle in and let's have a real meeting.”

  Walking over to where the trucks would pull in, we formed a semicircle under a pitiful excuse for a tree. Ghost waited while the truck, which had brought the mail in earlier, loaded up to head back out. Bags of mail were the last to go on, as the men here did not have access to computers, and cell service was intermittent with the mountain range.

  “We have two areas where they have experienced heavy fire, one of which is reported to be a new hotspot for IEDs.” IEDs were nasty bombs buried under the dirt just waiting for an unsuspecting victim. Didn’t matter if it was a two hundred pound soldier or a fifty pound child, the result was the same.

  “I can radio for a sweep, but we might as well hire a band to announce our arrival.” Ghost was right, we would travel under the cover of night, using night vision goggles to navigate in order to avoid being noticed as much as possible.

  “No to the sweep.” I instructed as everyone nodded their heads in agreement. “We put Havoc in the lead truck and Reaper bringing up the rear. We need fire power from both angles.” I looked into the eyes of the men I trust most in this world, knowing each would follow me into the depths of hell if I asked them and, in reality, I was about to ask just that.

  “One more piece of information y’all need to know. This caravan is different from the others we've done.” Clearing the dust from my throat as the rumblings of newly arriving trucks sounded in the distance. “We have four civilian nurses this time.” I have high expectations of my men, but at the end of the day, we are all trained individuals who are overgrown boys deep inside.

  “Do we know if any of them are single?” Case in point as proven by Doc.

  “Won't matter to you, Doc.” Chief cautions. “You're about to get all the girl you need once you open the box from Harper Kincaid.” The letter from Kennedy is still fresh in my pocket and a strange feeling is brewing in my chest.

  Doc could talk a big game, but we all knew he wanted a family like the rest of us. One could argue he was a handsome guy, but logically every man managed to shine in this uniform. What we did know, Doc had dated every man’s wet dream in the form of Victoria's Secret model, Lisa James.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Senior Chief Fuller, Captain Reynolds’ right hand man. While many of the kids around here gave him the respect his rank required, our Chief would rather spit in his face than address him properly. Reaching the rank of Senior before he turned thirty was a feat unheard of.

  “Pecker Gnat at three o’clock.” Havoc warned, he too hated Fuller with a passion, a direct result of the respect he held for Chief.

  “Gentleman.” Fuller called to us, making his way in our direction. His hands tucked behind his back, his gait looked as if a broom handle was lodged up his ass. “Captain Reynolds is ready to see you.” Rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, waiting for us to jump to attention and scurry across the camp.

  “Roger that, Senior.” I say and return to talking with my team. Pecker Gnat continues to wait like an expectant father, standing closer to my left shoulder than I'm comfortable with.

  “LT, you did hear me say the Captain is waiting?” As a Lieutenant, I out rank him and his attitude toward me is out of line. With his lips permanently planted around the cock of the CO, he assumed he could speak to me as he feels. But he is wrong, very fucking wrong.

  Adjusting my stance, the top of his baldhead does not reach my shoulder. He may have sucked a few dicks on his climb to the top, but my dick was reserved for the girl I chose to be with. “Senior, need I remind you, my team is not attached to this unit? We are here on the orders of Admiral Coin, who, correct me if I'm wrong, could shit down Captain's throat in the middle of the afternoon and he would have to open wide, taking every bit of it.” Keeping less than an inch of space between our chests, remaining well within the regulations I know Reaper could spout off at a moment's notice. “Now, until the United States military decides a chief of any level will out rank a Lieutenant, I recommend you scurry on back and let the Captain know we will be there in a minute.”

  ***

  Captain Reynolds sat behind his mahogany desk, a photo of an older woman placed at a forty-five degree angle to his left. An open, and abandoned, laptop took up space in the center of the desk. Everyone knew he had been sent here as a show piece, never with any intentions of stepping foot outside of this camp until it was time to go back to the States. For twenty-three minutes, he lectured us about how critical this mission was to the progression of our troops gaining foot on this war on terror. The man sat in his matching chair, not a single drop of sweat trickling down his clean-shaven face, the rumored ice packs he sat on were doing their job. He reminded us of how the military has adapted a no tolerance policy when it came to sexual harassment involving active duty. I wanted so badly to say it was men like him who women considered sex as a harassment, not men like those standing before him who know how to make a woman swoon, without the uniform.

  As we left his tent, the bright sun in the afternoon sky nearly blinded us from the four trucks, which had finally arrived. Four women, dressed in jeans and hiking boots stood under the same sorry excuse of a tree we had half an hour earlier. Five feet away stood another half dozen active duty, all laughing while a couple smoked a cigarette.

  “Fuck me, that was a half hour of my life I’ll never get back.” Doc complained as soon as we were out of earshot.

  “Chin up, Doc.” Reaper wrapped his arm around him, pulling him close to his side. “He has to talk as much as he does to keep that fucking desk from turning to dust.” I looked to Reaper through perplexed eyes. “Come on Viper, you ever known a patio chair made out of wood to last long in the summer heat without treating it every year?”

  Hurried introductions are made as the sun begins its descent behind the mountain range. Four nurses all a little green with an average of less than three years out of school between them. Not a single one of them having ever left the States before this. “You four stick with one of us, I don't care who you choose, but when the bullets start flying, you better do exactly as we say.”

  One of the nurses, the only blonde in the bunch, shifted her hips and looked me up and down. “Don't you mean if the bullets start flying and not when, Captain America?”

  Stepping closer to her, leaving no room for bullshit. “No, Barbie, I mean when. Now get in one of those trucks so we can get the fuck out of here.”

  My team waited until the ladies were inside the trucks before they let their laughter fly. “Captain America? You got a wild one on your hands there.” Doc teased, checking his bag one last time.

  “Bitches like that gonna...” Reaper’s words are cut short as something reflective crosses his face. He looks behind me with squinted eyes at the ridge where I assume the light is coming from, but sees nothing.

  “Ghost get me an update on any activity.” Before he can respond,
the flash comes from the left, along the side closest to us. “Havoc get an ID on who the fuck they’re signaling.” Using mirrors to communicate is a practice as old as time. If I were a gambling man, I would wager the first was a mistake, never meant to hit Reaper's face.

  “If something's going down, they aren't talking about it.’ Ghost voices in frustration.

  “Three points,” Reaper reports. “First one on the west ridge, second in the north and the third on the valley floor. My suspicion is they either know we’re about to move or they’re moving some product. Either way, this is about to be a long fucking night.” Reaper spoke what we all were thinking. Lucky for me, or maybe her, Barbie chose the last truck with Reaper. He was a hard faced man who didn't warm up to easily. With his face the way it was, he had begun to avoid people he didn't know at all. As the last of the daylight turned her head from the desert, I caught another flash of light from the North side.

  “I got it, Viper.” Havoc whispered into his microphone. “No doubt this shit is about us.” The edge of nervousness began to creep into my chest, something I’d grown to rely on when trouble was brewing. When a SEAL became complacent and cocky, it was time to retire or move on as cocky will get you killed. “Everyone watch your surroundings and keep communications to a minimum.”

  Our decent down the hill was filled with maneuvering over small trenches and over several dried out bushes. The motion of tackling these small hills jostled us around and with the rough terrain, the progress is brain numbing slow. Just after midnight, when I assumed our cargo would be fast asleep, the most annoying voice came over my earpiece. “Captain, can we please pull over? Some of us can't hold our bladders for an eternity.” How one tiny woman made me want to rip off Reaper's head and spit down his throat is beyond me.

  “First of all, there are no Captain’s in this or any vehicle near us. Second, use the bags I told you about before we started and third, hand that earpiece back to Reaper.”

  “Now you listen to me, we have been stuck inside this...”

  “Reaper, you better shut her the fuck up or I will!” I barked through clenched teeth. Our job was difficult enough without this loud mouthed bitch telling anyone who was listening we were on the move.

  “Viper, something just came off the back tire of your truck, stop where you are.” This was the last thing I needed. The more we stopped, the longer it would take us to cross, increasing the likelihood of an ambush by leaps and bounds.

  “Ma’am, I'm coming back to get you. Don't you say a fucking word do you understand?” We traveled with navigation lights only, a small red light which gave you enough to see the person next to you and not much else, avoiding turning on the headlight to try and stay hidden. If Barbie opened her mouth, the mountains would carry the sound all the way to the people with the mirrors. A woman in their eyes was only good for one purpose.

  Jumping out of my seat, I ran to the last truck, as Ghost got out of the second truck, passing him on my way. The temperatures had dropped to the thirties, making my heavy uniform less sweltering.

  As I came up to the door of the final truck, Reaper was already out scanning the area. I jumped into the bed of the truck as Blondie jumps out, her finger raised as if to argue.

  “Shut the fuck up,” I whispered as loud and harsh as I could.

  “But...”

  Slapping my hand over her mouth, her eyes widening in surprise. “I said shut up,” enunciating each word. “You and your bitching is going to get one of us killed.”

  Blondie reaches up; pulling my gloved hand at the same time she turns her head. “Don't you threaten me!” She speaks in a raised voice, eyes flicking up and down my body, causing my irritation to break through its boiling point.

  Just as I'm about to lay into her, loud voices are heard in the distance followed by rapid gun fire. Muzzle flashes announce the arrival of the people we’ve been trying to avoid. Several bullets ricochet off the edge of the road as the blonde starts to panic, screaming at the top of her lungs. I quickly shove her to the dirt, scooting her under the cover of the truck.

  “Don't you move, do you understand me?” She nods her head, tears flowing freely mixed with the dirt of the ground below. “Not a word, not a single scream, no matter what the fuck you see or hear.” Not waiting for her decision, I crawl to the side of the truck to get an assessment of what was going on.

  “Viper, we got eight up top, and four on our six.”

  “They ain't here to offer us scotch and Cuban cigars, take ‘em down, take ‘em down.” Another benefit to being a SEAL, there was no calling back to base and asking permission to engage. This mission would never make the headlines or appear on CNN. None of us would earn a medal for bravery or be interviewed for a documentary.

  My orders are carried out and the night is lit up with tracer rounds coming from Reaper's favorite toy, a modified M16. The sounds of wounded men, crying out their agony and firing the last of their ammo into the sky, draw a map for the others who were still coming at us. Firing off my rifle, I take down the two men charging at us. Just as quickly as it began, the quiet sounds of the desert night returned.

  “Hold your positions.” This wasn't over, not this easily.

  “Viper, we got three coming up on your left. You’re not gonna like this.”

  Keeping my rifle drawn, the three images grew clearer in my night vision goggles. Ghost is correct as usual, my back teeth clenched as I recognize the smug bastard in the middle; Aarash Konar.

  “No shoot, my friends.” His accent is heavy and humor filled. This cocksucker fears nothing and feels he can do whatever he wants. “I am unarmed and want only to talk to this Captain you have.” I avoid shooting a death glare to the loud-mouthed bitch under the truck. Standing not ten feet from me is the man responsible for the entire illegal drug trafficking in the region. We are imposing on his ability to continue to ship his product by occupying and destroying the fields and plants he has.

  “That's far enough.” I command, our eyes locking in the moonlight. Aarash and I have met on several occasions, one of those resulting in the scar I have along the side of my hip. He has a fondness for American girls, feeding them a line of bullshit about living like a princess back at his palace. Two years ago, he found one who saw through his bullshit and told him to fuck off. Aarash took her crassness as foreplay, kidnapping her from her hotel room. Lucky for her, she was Skyping with her father when it happened. We knew the second we saw the recording where to find her. As we were leaving the compound, he took a cheap shot, slicing my side with his knife. I looked him in the eye and told him he had the strength of a newborn baby and to quit playing with the big boy toys.

  “Now, turn around and head back where you came from.” Six sets of guns pointed in his direction. Chances are there was twice that many pointed at us. “Or don't, and see what happens.”

  Aarash held up his hands in surrender, “No need for violence, my friend. We came to see what the noise was.”

  “Aarash, save the bull shit for the cocksuckers you sell your shit to. You and I both know why you are here.” Raising my rifle to my shoulder, I have his bushy eyebrows in my sights.

  “I won't repeat myself, leave and let us pass, or see what happens.” From my left, Reaper licks his thumb; shit is about to get real.

  “Lieutenant Zach Michaels, from Atlanta Georgia. Your brother, Zane, threw his knee out and lost me a lot of money. I saw him play when I visit my brother Aaron in US. He attends your Georgetown University.” Swallowing hard, uncomfortable with how much he knew about me and my family. If the motherfucker said a word about my mother, I wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet through his head. Remaining stoic, confirming nothing about who he knew me to be. Some hacker living in their parent's basement, snuck into the system, stole records and sold them to dick heads like Aarash.

  “Is this not you, Lieutenant?” Before I can tell him where to stick his information, bullets ring out from the right side of the ridge, hitting the men standing on either side of
Aarash. Havoc jumps to the side of the middle truck, a rocket launcher on his shoulder. Five more shots ring out before Havoc sets the rocket free, the fucker who killed Aarash's men, also gave away their position.

  The blast from the rocket is too much for the blonde under the truck, she bounds out, hands over her ears screaming. “Stop it!”

  Face covered in dirt and shed tears, hands scraped and bleeding from my roughness in tossing her to safety. “All of this shooting is ridiculous.”

  Havoc looks over his shoulder, Ghost is holding what looks like a crowbar in his hand and I’m assuming it was what fell off my truck, or was tossed at it.

  “Don't you fucking listen to anything?” Doc is out from the left, marching with purpose in Blonde’s direction. Not only is she a loud mouth, but she is quick as hell, diving around Doc and landing eye to eye with Aarash.

  Something exchanges between them before Doc can attempt to pull her back. Blondie places her back against Aarash's chest, her arms spread out beside her. “If you want to kill him, you will have to kill me.” She is determined as hell it's comical really. She has no idea the kind of monster she is attempting to protect.

  “Your funeral.” I shrug, lowering my rifle, her foolishness giving me a new idea of how to use him. “Ghost, let's find this man a seat aboard our bus and let these two kids get acquainted.” Reaper is less welcoming to my idea, where Doc finds it just as amusing.

  “Okay, just got to make sure he isn't carrying anything which would hurt us.” Ghost moves to go around Blondie, when she realizes Aarash is about to be searched.

  “What do you think you are doing?” Swatting at Ghost with her hands. “This man is defending his land, ask him nicely to use his roads.” Placing a tiny hand on Aarash’s cloth covered arm. “Sir, please know these men do not represent me. I apologize for the Neanderthal treatment you and your family have received.”

  Ghost looks to me, silently confirming to continue. Moving around, I hand my rifle to Doc.“Well, since me and my team don't represent you and the facts seem to be getting in the way of your flirting with Aarash here.” I reach around, tugging his turban off his head. Blondie jumps back as half a dozen grenades fall to the ground. I look to the dark balls rolling around, and then back to her shocked eyes. “Think I need to look further?” My question is swimming in sarcasm, but Blondie’s bottom lip vibrates with a quiver as she turns and crawls back under the truck.