With Brandy’s bag, the huge bag of diapers and supplies given them by the hospital, and the bouquet of roses he’d sent, Tucker let the young assistant wheel Brandy to the Hummer. He called T.J. to let him know there was a chance he’d be a few minutes late.
Walking inside their home for the first time, Tucker was moved by how incomplete everything was. He vowed to wrap up everything he could, including the front yard project, even if he had to use credit cards to get it all done. She’d delivered two weeks early, so he felt a little like he’d been caught with his pants down.
“I’d really like a shower, Tucker. I didn’t get one at the hospital this morning.”
Tucker checked his watch and nodded, holding a fussing Kimberly while Brandy stepped into the shower. He could tell the baby was hungry, the way she twisted her nose and that cute little mouth of hers, punching herself in the face with her fist. He was still amazed at the miracle they’d created as he talked to her, walking her around the living room. Though she was large, as babies went, she still looked like a doll, so delicate and pink, and totally reliant on his love. Initially, he’d been nervous to hold her, even though he’d delivered babies during deployment and medic training at Ft. Bragg.
We got this, sweetheart. You go ahead and scream your little head off, ’cause Mama has the cure.
They heard Brandy’s father pull up just as he handed Kimberly back to her.
“I think your dad’s here, and I gotta go.”
“Ah, that felt great. Thank you, Tucker.”
“She’s more than ready for you,” he said.
“I can see,” Brandy answered.
It was amazing how the baby seemed to know her mother’s voice already. Depending on whether or not she was hungry, it either made her fussier, as her little face and mouth moved to the side looking for Brandy or calmed her down if she was satisfied. He’d been careful to speak to her in soft tones, not wanting to scare her, but the little one’s ears were already attuned to the voice of her mother and paid no attention to him at all.
Like everything else Brandy did, she held a certain confidence, even though she was a new mom. Tucker didn’t think he’d seen anything so beautiful in his life as the sight of Kimberly at Brandy’s breast.
He gave a hug and kiss to Steven and Jillian and then dashed out the door.
Congratulations were in order when he got to the Team 3 building. Someone was passing out cigars, which Tucker had forgotten. In a matter of minutes, the air was blue with thick pungent smoke, like one of their poker nights. Tucker actually began to get a buzz on. It had been so long since he’d had a cigar.
He neglected to mention to anyone how hairy his daughter was, knowing how he’d get razed for raising a baby gorilla, like his mother had been when he was born. That was going to have to be on a need-to-know basis.
“Listen up!” boomed Lt. Commander Andrew Gibson. “Babies are a fact of life. You should know that better than anyone, Tucker, with your training.”
“Yes, sir.” The room around him sat to attention.
“Your kid is going to be teased about being raised by her grandpa,” Gibson continued with a twinkle in his eye.
“Guilty as charged. I can see you’ve been there, sir,” Tucker barked back.
The room instantly reacted as Gibson sported a cheerful grin. “You’re damned lucky I like you, Hudson.”
When Lt. Commander Gibson straightened up, he scanned his audience with deadly focus, causing everyone else seated before him to sit tall. All chatter immediately stopped. They waited.
“Okay, what we got here is sort of a mess. This op was planned before the huge wildfires that have destroyed so many acres on Gran Canaria, causing the evacuation of thousands of residents. There are firefighting units and extra Civil Guard from the other islands, Madrid, as well as some from Portugal—even a little equipment help from Uncle Sam. The place is crawling with police, fire, and rescue workers. It’s like an anthill.”
Gibson showed several videos of flames reaching into the night sky and flotillas of evacuees, as well as roving police units helping with the evacuation and the damage.
“We delayed a bit when the fires broke out. But this extra activity has stepped up the urgency. We fear some of those being evacuated are part of the smuggling operation. Or, they could be operating under the guise of a humanitarian aid vessel, trying to pick up new contraband. State thinks they could be attempting to unload some of their human cargo within the refugee population landing in Portugal, Spain, or other countries in the Mediterranean. Because of the emergency operations there, it’s getting very dicey and, well, unmanageable. They’re just not prepared for this type of widespread tragedy all at once.”
Tucker could see a whole range of potential problems. The mood in the room had suddenly become quite glum.
“State has received intel there are even perhaps American tourists caught up in the evacuation—either vacationers or long-term visitors to the island.”
Lt. Commander Gibson turned off the video, and someone turned on the room lights.
“Gents, State is concerned about the possibility some U.S. citizens are caught up in all this and perhaps are being trafficked without their knowledge. That’s why they’ve negotiated a short vacation to the Canaries, but only to retrieve our people. We can’t touch or otherwise fuck with any islanders, anyone holding a Spanish passport, or a foreign aid worker who has diplomatic immunity.”
Tucker knew before Gibson said anything further that they were on a tender leash.
“The problem for us is that while we’re looking for our own, we’d like to rid the area of some of the bad guys with ties to Nigerian operators. We want to extract them quietly and hand them over to our Special Agent team for questioning and possible detention. We know some of them are there, because we’ve overheard conversations back and forth with one particular group we’ve been tracking in Nigeria.”
He waited several seconds until the conversations before him stopped.
“We’ve got tourists, we got refugees from Africa who don’t want to go back, we’ve got more arriving, and we’ve got people being evacuated. There’s a list of names of certain individuals we are particularly interested in, and those are the only ones we want. Unless we walk into a hornet’s nest. And with the history of this team, I’m not going to bullshit you to say it won’t happen. We all know nothing happens like we planned, right?”
The general agreement on that point was loud and long.
“There’s to be no fireworks. No blowing up buildings or causing any undue attention. And God forbid, no loss of life or even minor injury, especially to the Spanish or island population. If you don’t know, you keep your hands off. Understood?”
Tucker nodded along with everyone else.
“There’s a lot more coming, but I’m sure you have questions,” Gibson barked.
“About how long will we be there, and when do we leave?” T.J. Talbot asked. He’d been mumbling, whispering things in Tucker’s ear.
“Well,” Gibson shrugged. “This is not a precise military operation, which sucks real bad. Never a good idea to not have a specific plan, but ours went up in smoke, so to speak, and now all hell’s broken loose. We deploy in ten days.”
Gibson was met with whistles as the group had been told it would be a month.
“Yeah, I know. Hurry up, then wait, then hurry up again. It took longer to get our permissions because the Spanish and island governments were consumed with the logistics of this fire, and our mission wasn’t really a priority for them like it is for us. So let me sum it up this way. Don’t pay attention to the worker bees; find the queen. And we also know the longer we stay, the more attention we’ll cause. So, we get in and out before we step in it—I’d say maybe be there three weeks. I hope less. Get who we can, send back information for something in the future, and get ready for next time. You all know this human trafficking thing is on the rise and is not going to go away.”
Several men nodded. G
ibson was dead serious, but his audience didn’t reflect any of the tension they probably were feeling. Tucker knew this was how they’d been trained. He raised his hand and was called on.
“Sir, are we going to use the two assets we used before, Jean Douchet or Sven Tolar? Sven, in particular really helped us out.”
“Yes, Sven will be on the team. He’s meeting you guys over there. We’re not sure about Jean. He’s gotten a little entangled in Paris, from what we understand. We haven’t approached him yet until we know for sure he’s free.”
“Is our platoon the only one going, sir?” asked someone from the back.
“Yes, at this point. I’ll be going along with you. We have Lt. Jack Gridley, a Little Creek transfer, who’s flying home from his honeymoon in Hawaii as we speak. So, without Kyle, we’ll be fourteen enlisted men.” He rocked in his shoes, eyes darting around the crowd, including making contact with Tucker. “We’re expecting big things from some of you seniors.”
The meeting was adjourned. T.J. snagged Tucker’s arm.
“I guess we better get that fence built, don’t you think?”
“Well, it will take a few months before she’s walking or even crawling, but yes, I’d like to get that yard finished. What’s your availability now?”
“I’m going to need to talk to Joe, and I’ll see if we can get by there in the next day or two, if we won’t be in the way.”
“No problem. Thanks, T.J.”
“How’s everyone doing?”
“So far, so good. Kinda sucks I’ll be gone so soon.”
“I hear you, but at least you were around for her birth. With these short ones, you never know. Everybody healthy?”
“I got a sweet little pink daughter weighing over nine pounds, and her mother with enough milk to feed the whole hospital nursery.”
T.J. squeezed Tucker’s shoulder. “Good for you, man. You deserve this. Then you can work on number two.”
That left a smile on his face that lasted all the way until he got safely home.
Chapter 6
Brandy got herself up to make scones for T.J., Tucker, and Joe Benson, Shannon’s father-in-law from her first marriage. Joe wore his carpenter’s overalls and had brought two tool bags, with everything neatly organized, as if they were pieces of cherished antiques. So he holstered his hammer in the special loop created for it, took the pencil from behind his ear, and added it to the red and black crayon sticks lodged in his front pocket. His eyes were the size of basketballs as he lovingly accepted the hot scone Brandy presented to him on a paper towel.
“Why, thank you, dearie. You didn’t have to go to all that trouble,” he said and then took his first bite. “Oh man, this couldn’t have come out of a box!”
She handed T.J. and Tucker each a scone. “It did. That’s about all I can do when it comes to baking. Just my way of saying thanks.”
Tucker gave her a kiss and a hug.
“She sleeping?”
“Of course, but probably not for long. With as much as she eats, she wakes up ravenous. But she goes right down when her belly gets full. She might be one of those who start sleeping through the night early,” Brandy beamed.
“Larger babies are that way sometimes,” added T.J. “Say, you don’t happen to have any coffee in there, do you?”
“We have one of those one-shot machines. But I’m going to let everyone get their own. I gotta get back to check on Kimberly.”
The men joined her and lined up behind Tucker, who prepared the coffee from freshly ground beans. He showed the coffee label to T.J.
“You get this stuff? These guys are former Team Guys. Their videos crack me up.”
“I’ve seen them. Splitting beans with sniper fire. I’ve met them in Coronado too,” said T.J. “Love the pirate on the front.”
Brandy brought Kimberly into the kitchen, pulled up a chair, wrapped a small blanket over her shoulders, and showed Kimberly off to the men before she put the baby to her breast.
“Here she is!” gasped T.J.
“Now that’s a pretty baby,” said Joe Benson. “My wife, Gloria, would be right over if you ever need a sitter.”
Brandy smiled and then focused on Kimberly’s nursing, covering herself up discretely.
Tucker was telling Joe about his plans for the garden and what they wanted to do with the house, including their Brandy’s thought to perhaps make a second unit upstairs.
The older man inspected the ceiling while sipping on his hot coffee and then studied the narrow stairway. He addressed Tucker.
“I think you should make that stairway into a closet or maybe a half bath, and add the stairs outside. You could protect it with an awning or overhang. Not like we have monsoons here.”
“Joe is an expert carpenter, Tucker,” added T.J. “He still does little repair jobs for several of our friends and his neighbors. But he used to build houses, right?”
“We’d build one, move into it, then sell it, and build another one. I think Frankie lived in about ten, maybe eleven houses growing up.”
Brandy noticed a silence had fallen on the group and deduced it was due to the subject of Frankie’s passing. Tucker had told her the story, but he delicately began to explain part of it again.
“Frankie is Joe’s son, and T.J. and Frankie became best friends during BUD/S.” Tucker’s voice was soft and careful.
“I think I remember that, Tucker. Thanks.”
T.J. added, “I was best man at his wedding when he married Shannon. She wasn’t very happy with me for getting Frankie so drunk he passed out during the ceremony.” The tall medic shook his head.
“That’s my boy,” sighed Joe. “He followed you around everywhere, T.J. You got him in a lot of trouble, but you were like brothers.”
“That’s a fact,” mumbled T.J. “Frankie told me to watch over Shannon, who was over six months pregnant when he got taken out.” T.J. was staring at his coffee like a psychic reading tea leaves. “I always had a secret crush on her, but I was a good boy. Being friends with Frankie was more important. At the beginning, Shannon didn’t want to have anything to do with me.”
“I heard all about that.” Tucker grinned and toasted his coffee mug.
“Old Joe here kind of helped me break the ice a little. It was a very unselfish act I will never forget and could never repay,” T.J. said, his words dropping off to a whisper. He wrapped his arm around Joe Benson’s neck, making him blush.
The older man wiggled loose. “It just fit in place like a miter joint on a fine cabinet. I lost my son. You lost your dad. I think we were made for each other, T.J.” Joe Benson blinked and rubbed something from his left eye.
Brandy couldn’t remember seeing Tucker or any of his friends being so forthcoming with cherished emotional details. It touched her. After a short pause, Tucker cleared his throat.
“Think it’s about time to get back out there, unless you two want to sit around and have a little cry.” Tucker put his mug in the sink.
“Shut the fuck up,” barked T.J. “Sorry, Kimberly.”
Brandy put the baby over her shoulder and patted her back gently. Kimberly responded with a loud burp, which echoed throughout the kitchen.
“The princess has spoken!” Joe left his mug behind and followed Tucker and T.J. to the front door. He turned and waved at Brandy. “Thanks again. Those were tasty.”
“I have more.”
“Maybe later. Thanks.”
He disappeared into the front yard filled with late morning sun. Brandy took the baby and sat, watching them from the living room couch.
Joe was the general.
They’d gotten the fencing up and decided to expand the project to cover the berm with redwood chips. They planted the two palms in the front corners of the property, to the left of the long driveway. The three men made furrows following the path of the sun but left a large square section untouched. She watched as Tucker noted things in a small spiral book. They shook hands, and before they parted, T.J. and Joe waved to her a
nd gave a thumbs-up.
She hadn’t moved from the large window in the living room. As Tucker entered, she said, “Looks beautiful out there. I like where you put the palms.”
“Yeah. T.J. was right. It’s the perfect spot. And don’t know if you want to come out to see, but we left you a nice space up front for flowers or whatever you want.”
“I saw that. And you’ve got the rows all lined up.”
“Yup. Think I’ll get the redwood bark and the veggie starts. You just tell me what you want to plant, and we’ll get those puppies in.”
Kimberly stirred, and Brandy adjusted her weight switching the baby to lie against her other side.
“Should I make you a sandwich?” she whispered.
“I’ll do it. You’re fine.”
She followed him to the kitchen and sat at the table again. “You don’t have to get those things today, do you?”
“No, but I’d like to finish.” He stopped, his knife suspended in a jar of mayonnaise, his eyes dark and serious. “We don’t have much time.”
“I just want to spend as much time with you as possible before you go, Tucker.”
“And I want to finish that garden, like I promised. You can look at it every day, water it, and think of me.”
“How could I not think of you? I’d think of you if we lived in the desert in an old trailer. Everything makes me think of you.”
Kimberly was getting fussy again.
“Think I’ll go change her.”
Tucker grabbed her arm before she could retreat to the back bedroom. “Hey, have I ever told you how much I love you?”
She kissed him. “Yes, all the time. But I’d love to hear more tonight after you’ve had a shower.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He picked up his keys, slipped his wallet into his back pocket, waved his goodbye with the hand not holding his sandwich, and was out the door.
She’d been waiting for their first sexual liaison to prepare a special meal, but tonight, she didn’t want to wait anymore. This was the life she had, and it was special enough just being in his arms.
SEALed Protection (Bone Frog Brotherhood Book 5) Page 4