SEAL Love's Legacy (Silver SEALs Book 1)

by Sharon Hamilton

  “Thank you. They’re lovely,” whispered Mimi.

  A large crockery bowl full of apples and small winter pears was placed on her table, along with a small loaf of unsliced wheat bread, some butter and a knife. A covered pitcher of water and a clean glass were set nearby. Towels and the nightgown were placed on the bed. One of the girls lit an oil lamp and set it beside the flowers.

  “Bring the lamp with you when you hear the call to worship, so you can find your way there and back,” Jasmine said.

  “No electricity?” Mimi was wondering how she’d keep her cell phone charged.

  “I’m afraid no, not in this cabin. We’re running out of space; we’re expanding so fast! It’s a good problem to have, don’t you think? Way better than in a noisy dorm with ten other women. You’ll be comfortable and warm enough here.”

  “When is the service?”

  “An hour after nightfall. You’ll smell the bonfire, see the light and hear the bell. I’ll have Sister Rebekah meet you outside to help guide you. But bring your lamp so you can see the path.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Of course. You want me to draw your bath water?”

  “No, if it’s just turning a fawcett, I can do that.” Mimi lowered her backpack on what appeared to be a very comfortable bed covered in quilts. “I think I’ll try a soak. I’m sure I have blisters,” she said, pointing to her tennis shoes.

  “I’m sorry. I think there’s some salve in the cupboard over the sink. We keep it for the garden workers and for bee stings and mosquitos.”

  “I have something. But thanks.”

  “My pleasure. I leave you now. See you in about two hours then?”

  “I’ll be right outside after the bell rings,” added Rebekah.

  “Thank you,” said Mimi. “Jasmine, where do you stay?”

  She smiled, tying her dreadlocks back with a piece of frayed ribbon. “Why, I stay with my husband, of course. Pastor Bales, dear.”

  Chapter 13

  Garrett threw down his headphones.

  “Goddammit!”

  Tanner and Fuzzy remained seated. Fuzzy spoke up first.

  “You don’t know for sure they blew him, Garrett.”

  Outside the van, Garrett could see Cornell Bigelow throwing rocks, aiming at stacks of flat pebbles he’d placed on boulders hugging a small creek. Every sharpshooter he knew liked to skip stones or toss pebbles to hone their craft when they had spare time. It was a nervous habit he had as well.

  Garrett was angry with himself that he’d let Joshua accompany her. And now something wasn’t adding up right.

  Fuzzy, Luke and Tanner all waited for him to give them direction.

  “Joshua’s very intuitive. If he wasn’t certain they hadn’t made him as ex-DEA, then we gotta worry about it,” he grumbled, crossing and uncrossing his arms while he watched Cornell.

  “You couldn’t have known, Tierney,” added Luke.

  “I should have guessed it, though. Our guys tipped us off there would be weed. I should have thought of it first.”

  Tanner was still attempting to listen, but it had been nearly an hour since Josh’s wire stopped working. Lopez hadn’t given them any warning. He just stopped talking.

  “Is there a signal?”

  “Oh yeah, it’s there. But the fuzz I’m getting is like white noise. I don’t hear any muffled voices at all, Garrett.”

  Bigelow came inside, grabbed a water, and sat down cross-legged on the floor beside Tanner, waiting for instructions. Mounted over the couch behind the former SEAL was the sign What Happens in The Camper, Stays in The Camper.

  Tanner whispered something to him, and Bigelow nodded back.

  “Do we all go in, then?” asked Luke.

  “Not until someone tells me Georgette is there and, hopefully, is in good enough condition to be rescued. Mimi seems to be fine, but I’ve got to warn her.”

  “You?” asked Fuzzy. “Why not one of us?”

  Garrett didn’t want to have to explain something he couldn’t explain. He’d never forgive himself if something happened to Mimi. But he knew the most dangerous place to be was inside the camp if a raid was called, and he needed to be there to protect her, if necessary. He didn’t want one of his men to take that risk.

  It took him all of thirty seconds to decide. He couldn’t spend any more time thinking about it. Time to get into action. He began to bark orders, just like he did when he ran platoons on the teams.

  “I need Bigelow to come with me, to find good position and cover us. I need you on the com, Tanner. Your eyes and ears, too, Fuzzy, to help assess what’s happening if it turns out to be a full-scale hostage rescue. If something happens to me, you’ve got to signal Cornell here, and Tanner, you’ll have to call out for more help. And, Luke, we might need your kit. So, there you have it. And just in case I wasn’t clear, nobody sleeps until we get them all back safe, understood?”

  “You gotta wear an Invisio, Garrett. You both do,” Tanner said, pointing to Bigelow. “I gotta be able to talk to you.”

  “Absolutely. Was counting on that. And get hold of Mike, too. I need to know if there are going to be any news media issues. You can talk to me while we’re hiking up there.”

  “Roger that. So, you’re leaving now?”

  “Like yesterday.”

  It was funny. The more dangerous things got the more comfortable he felt. He’d brought along an old backpack, stuffing his clothes and his extra clips inside. He pulled out a sleeveless motorcycle tee, yanking it over his head. The pinup girl design on the backside would be hard to miss. Then he changed into a pair of old jeans with holes in the knees and a stain spilled on the thighs. He also wrapped a dark blue and white checkered headdress around his head and neck. He’d picked it up in one of the village markets and wore it overseas for years. He felt it brought him good luck.

  Slipping on his black, lightweight Kevlar mesh jacket, he hoisted his pack over his shoulders and adjusted night vision goggles around his neck. Cornell was in all black, his duty bag twice the size of Garrett’s, with enough firepower and grenades to start a small war.

  Tanner handed them the tiny earpieces which they both inserted as deeply into their ears as they dared and checked for sound. When Tanner gave them the thumbs-up, they were out the door, readying for the high-speed mile run to the outskirts of the camp.

  Garrett was ten years older than his sharpshooter teammate, but he wasn’t going to go easy on the man. He knew Bigelow had set sprint records at BUD/S and, from the size of him, kept himself in marathon condition. It was time to make a point. He loved testing himself to extremes.

  The first part of the trek was fairly level, but as the darkness descended on the hillside, the trail got thin, then disappeared into the brush. They flipped on their NV goggles, but barely slowed down. Luckily, there wasn’t a full moon, so no flash came off the moonlight dancing on rock formations to blind them.

  Garrett got the message that Mike had pulled a favor and got the nosey reporter stopped, which was a relief. DHS was still checking White House staffers. And there was no further activity on Georgette’s old cell phone or computer.

  He turned, looking over his shoulder, and found Bigelow keeping one pace behind him, hugging his ass just enough to let him know there was no way he was going to let an “old guy” beat him.

  As they neared the crest, the terrain leveled out again and he could feel the cool breeze coming from a verdant plateau. The temperature had dropped as well.

  A glow from a bonfire made the trees in the foreground look like they were on fire and interfered with their night vision. Garrett slipped his back around his neck and sniffed the crisp air laced with the scent of fire.

  Carefully maneuvering around large boulders, they found a gathering of more than a hundred men, women, and children all holding hands, singing in unison. After several stanzas, the group would stop, and as Garrett listened carefully, he could hear one male voice addressing the crowd.

  Cornell touched
him on the shoulder and pointed to his left. Several hundred yards away were four greenhouses lit up from within. At a considerable distance from the compound itself was a large hangar-like structure. They could barely see long vertical and horizontal lines of incandescent light escaping from what appeared to be huge doors. He removed his camera and sent a picture to Tanner.

  “Not sure Mimi saw this, so see if we can get some satellite image in the morning, Tanner.”

  “Affirmative.”

  Garrett used his small binoculars, surveying the scene. “Gathering, maybe more than a hundred, some children too. I don’t see—wait! I see Mimi there. Thank God for the red hair.”

  He held up his cell again, enlarged the view, and attempted to get a picture, but felt his hands shaking. He inhaled several times and felt better.

  “Sorry, gotta wait until I catch my breath.”

  Cornell shook his head. Garrett tried again and snapped the shot, sending the image on. Digital numbers reflecting distance to the edge of the crowd would show up on the image. Their tracking would enable Tanner to pinpoint exactly where they were on the topo map and pass it up the line if necessary.

  “No doubt about it. Red’s a good color on her, Garrett,” came Tanner’s voice in his earpiece. “She actually has a decent voice, too.”

  Garrett studied the crowd but didn’t find Joshua anywhere within it. “No sign of Lopez,” he whispered.

  “Copy. I still have a signal that hasn’t moved, but no voice patterns.”

  Garrett swore. “We’re gonna get set up. I see some security on the periphery. Seven, eight, nine, twelve, and maybe more.”

  “Copy.”

  Both he and Cornell changed their focus away from the bonfire, surveying the dark shadows dancing amongst the boulders beyond. They were alert to any activity outside the fire circle and noted the tall lookout bucket atop the entrance, which had been left open. At the current time, the guard shack appeared abandoned.

  “Wish I could have that spot,” muttered Cornell.

  “Yeah, and you’d be a sitting duck when the shooting starts.” Garrett handed him his binoculars. “Take a look up that little swale. I see a huge oak tree. And you got your rocks behind it, so I think it would be good cover if you can see everything.”

  Connor checked the spot out and agreed. “Showtime. I’ll let you know when I’m in position. Gonna go the long way around, but hell, I’m ten years younger than you, old Bone Frog, so I can make it no problem.”

  “And you probably won’t get winded either, you asshole.”

  “Sucks to be old.”

  Even in the dark of night, Garrett could make out the stark white grin from Cornell’s teeth.

  “Keep your head down, brother.” Garrett’s sendoff was barely a whisper.

  After a few yards, Cornell, with his duty bag strapped to his back, disappeared into the brush without a sound. Garrett went back to watching the group holding hands and singing.

  He identified Nelson Bales easily both because of his height and the white robe he wore. When the music stopped, several youths stepped forward and he laid hands on their foreheads in a blessing.

  Adjusting his gaze, he found Mimi and brought her face into focus, enlarging it. Her eyes darted from side to side, and she looked nervous as hell. She wore a baggy pair of overalls, with the peasant shirt that had the microphone Tanner had sewn into the seam. Her hair was pulled up in one of her clips, the edges looking wet.

  Garrett scanned the crowd just as she did, looking for Georgette or Joshua, but found neither. There was no smile on Mimi’s face as she continued what he knew was a desperate search for something familiar. He could tell she was reaching the edges of what she could tolerate.

  Hang on there.

  “I’m in place,” came the message from Cornell.

  “Copy. Waiting for the crowd to disperse. I’ll message when I begin to initiate contact.”

  “I’m seeing a small building with bars on it. They’ve got a posted sentry. I’m thinking Josh,” came Cornell’s voice in his ear.

  “That will be next on the list.

  Chapter 14

  It felt just like Halloween. Shadows lurked, bonfires raged, and secret rituals were followed. Something was waiting to jump out at her when she’d least expect it. It was like Mimi had gotten stranded with a bad date and the wrong crowd—a dangerous crowd. Or one of those days when she shopped for clothes and nothing fit. Somewhere there was a place where she belonged, but this was not it.

  People were milling around after the songfest, greeting each other, laughing, and some walking arm in arm. The bursts of fire from the huge pit made the trees surrounding the clearing dance like they were ancient Native American spirits with evil intentions. She listened to fragments of conversation, unsure where she should stand or even where she should head next. She gripped her gas-fueled lamp and waited, turning slowly like a lost child.

  Under the glow of firelight, people’s faces looked grotesque and unkind. She much preferred the soft, innocent-looking pastels of early morning or afternoon light. Mimi was all alone and didn’t trust anyone enough to ask questions about where Joshua had gone or even how to get back to her cabin.

  Until Nelson Bales approached. He’d been studying her from across the clearing for some time, he said.

  “I can see you’re uncomfortable, sister.” The wildness in his eyes made her defensive.

  “Is it that obvious? I don’t know a soul. Did Carlos ditch me?”

  He watched her closely—too closely. “What makes you say that?”

  She shrugged. “I just thought he’d be here, that’s all.”

  Bales paused. “How well to you know him?”

  He was the skilled negotiator like Joshua had warned her.

  “I don’t. Like you, I’ve just met him.”

  Mimi tried not to look at up, so eyed people as they passed by. Nelson Bales carefully placed his palm on her shoulder, which made her jump.

  “Do not be afraid, little one. I’m here to protect you.”

  This had the opposite effect on Mimi. Her blood pressure spiked. She immediately stepped back and crossed her arms.

  “Please don’t do that.” She held up the lantern in front of her, making it become a barrier between their two bodies.

  “I apologize.”

  “So where did he run off to? Can you tell me, then?”

  “We’re making arrangements for his stay. He’s still here.”

  Mimi didn’t like his non-answer but didn’t want to ask any further. “Your wife told me you were at capacity. I’m sorry we’ve imposed on you.”

  “All are welcome, as I’ve said before. Come, I’ll have Rebekah take you back to your cabin, so you can get a good night’s rest, and then we’ll talk more in the morning.”

  He motioned for the young girl to approach. Mimi thought she caught a glimpse of Georgette standing with a young man near one of the trucks, but when she looked closer, they had disappeared.

  “Until tomorrow, sister.” He bowed and then retreated into the night. She was glad there was distance between them.

  Her guide walked forward, nodding in the direction they would be traveling. Mimi kept pace right alongside her.

  “How long have you been here, Rebekah?”

  “Nearly a year now.”

  “You like it?”

  “Oh yes! I’m hoping Pastor Bales selects a good husband for me soon.”

  “A husband? He picks your husband?”

  “That’s the way it’s done here at POG. We serve until we’re called. I admit it took some getting used to at first, seeing the marriage ceremonies, but people are happy with the arrangement.”

  “Sounds very archaic.” Mimi was working hard to keep her voice from cracking. She also resisted the urge to just run as fast as she could for the entrance.

  “Surely you know it’s been this way for centuries all over the world.”

  “Doesn’t anyone ever protest?”

  “Thos
e who are too difficult leave. We don’t want them here.”

  A group of children ran across their path, nearly colliding with the two of them. She watched them disappear and continued investigating the shadows for any familiar face she could recognize. Again, she found none.

  Rebekah said good night, giving her a hug, and they parted at the front door to Mimi’s quarters.

  Inside, she sank to the bed and put her head in her hands. Slow hot tears fell on her chest just from the sheer overwhelm of events. It had been a very long day. They’d flown out from the east coast, traded texts with Georgette, wormed their way inside the camp, and then she’d been abandoned. Her cell no longer worked, and she wasn’t sure the microphone in her shirt was still communicating, either. There was no sign of Georgette. It was dark, and she was alone, completely alone, in a one-room cabin she was unable to secure.

  She took several deep breaths, listening to the sounds of the night. Then she slowly rose, walked to the table and grabbed an apple and glass of delicious water. As she studied the walls and noticed the beautiful cotton quilts hung over the bedframe and over the bed itself, she felt like she’d stepped back in time. It was like she was traveling on an untethered adventure, playing a role she’d never played before, doing things totally unfamiliar. Everything she was used to had been stripped away. Even her new friends responsible for her safety were too far away to help if she had the need.

  Mimi placed the apple core in a paper bag lining a basket by the kitchen sink. It had done little to calm her stomach or her nerves. She washed her hands in hardwater lavender soap, rinsed, and then removed her flip-flops carefully so she wouldn’t disturb the large blisters that had formed on her heels and big toes. Her overalls fell to the floor easily. She slipped her nightgown over her head, leaving her shirt on underneath because of the cold, but also just in case the little device was still sending a signal back to the base. After turning off the lamp, she tucked herself into bed, pulled the quilts up to her chin, and prepared to sleep.