by Cassie Cole
“I just have one question for you,” Admiral Harbaugh said as she gazed around the room. She stopped on my face. “Young lady.”
“Yes, admiral?”
“Have you ever considered serving your country?”
Epilogue
Karen
Two Years Later
I sat at my computer terminal at the European Center for Disease Control with four other Navy S2 Analysts, and waited.
“I’ve got no hostiles in the drop area,” the analyst next to me finally said over the radio channel.
“Clear airspace to the target,” said another analyst.
I flipped the switch on my own terminal, then pressed the button to unmute my microphone. “No biological weapon signatures on our sensors in the area. We’re clear.”
The head intelligence officer, who was pacing behind us rather than sitting at a terminal, came on the channel. “SEAL Team 13, you are go for injection via the south-east route we discussed.”
Logan’s strong, and calm, voice came on the channel. “SEAL Team 13, moving up now.”
“Quick and clean, LC,” the head intel officer said.
“It’s the only way we know how,” Logan replied.
I leaned back in my chair and tried to relax. I fought off the pang of fear I always felt when my guys were deployed. This mission was as straightforward as they came: a lone compound in southern Turkey suspected of housing biological weapons stolen from the Assad regime during the Syrian civil war. They were to be sold to a third party terrorist group tomorrow.
But not if the Lucky 13th had anything to say about it.
“You guys smell that?” Hunter said on the channel, voice tinny and distant.
“No?” Cairo said.
“It smells like justice.”
Cairo chuckled into his headset. “Calm down, buddy. You’re not Batman.”
“Aww, come on bro. I’ll let you be Spiderman.”
“Mixing the DC and Marvel universes should result in an automatic dishonorable discharge,” said the analyst to my right.
“Cut the crosstalk,” the head intel officer said, but she kept her tone light. The Lucky 13th SEAL Team was notorious for lighthearted banter on their missions. It helped keep everyone calm in the face of otherwise terrifying circumstances.
I scanned my screen a second time, then a third. We had dropped sensors around the enemy compound to detect biological anomalies, which would suggest that the weapons were leaking from damage sustained during transport. The sensors were all clear, indicating it was safe for Logan, Hunter, and Cairo. The readings were unlikely to change suddenly in the middle of the mission, but I allowed myself a little paranoia. Better to be watching for it than get caught sleeping.
Especially since my three guys were the ones in danger.
I watched as the three GPS dots on the map moved closer to the target. They were approaching the compound by river in full SCUBA gear. They were relatively safe for now, but once they were on land there wouldn’t be much cover for them until they reached the compound itself.
This mission had been months in the making, and had been scrubbed twice before when conditions weren’t perfect. All of us wanted it to go smoothly today.
I’d learned a lot about my three SEAL lovers in the past two years. I finished my graduate degree while working as an analyst for the Navy, and was hired on full-time when I graduated. It turned out I was gifted when it came to biological warfare; it was a much better application for my knowledge on cell growth than the private sector. Admiral Harbaugh had requested me by name the moment the S2 analyst position opened up. I wasn’t sure if it was because I’d helped them with the CLF Madrid attack, or because she had a soft spot for the relationship I had with Logan, Hunter, and Cairo.
Maybe all of the above. I was a kickass analyst.
“First soil sample needs to be collected on the riverbank,” I said on the channel. Direct samples were needed for later analysis, in case the sensors missed anything. “Make sure you fill the vial all the way this time, Kershaw.”
It was the perfect opportunity for Hunter to make a joke about filling it, but all he said was, “Yes ma’am. I’m the best dirt collector you’ve ever seen.”
We kept things professional when others were listening. Aside from Admiral Harbaugh’s knowledge of my history with the three SEALs, nobody else knew about our relationship.
The three blinking dots on the map moved up the river, then paused. “Sample collected,” Hunter said after a moment.
“Intel update?” Logan asked.
“No additional hostiles around the compound,” the analyst next to me said. “Just the two heat signatures inside the compound. Both still seated inside to the right of the door, likely on a couch watching TV.”
“Approaching the compound,” Logan said.
I could feel the other analysts tensing as the three SEALs moved up. They may not have had personal feelings for the three men, but their lives were on the line due to the data we gave them. If something went wrong, all of us had a stake in the results.
The dots reached the outside of the building. The sound of gunfire filled the radio channel—muted pops, like popcorn in a microwave—and then the dots were moving again.
“Two hostiles down,” Logan confirmed.
“Checking the left,” Cairo said.
Hunter added, “I’ve got the back.”
The dots moved through the compound with expert efficiency, pausing at doorways and always ensuring they had friendly cover. After two years on the job, I recognized the precision of their sweep, even from just watching dots on a screen. It was beautiful in a way. Like a dangerous dance.
“Compound clear.”
“I’ve got eyes on the material,” Cairo said in the back room. “Standing cooler by the wall. Three cannisters the size of spray paint. Biological warnings all over them.”
“Do the weapons require refrigeration?” Logan asked.
“Negative,” I said. “The cannisters contain their own internal refrigeration to pause cell growth. Putting it in their standing freezer doesn’t affect anything one way or the other.”
“Dumb motherfuckers,” Hunter chuckled.
“Secondary objectives,” the intel officer said to get them back on topic.
“Copy that. Taking second environmental sample now,” Hunter said.
“Sweeping compound for digital material,” Cairo agreed. Any computers, cell phones, or flash drives would be invaluable for catching other terrorists in the area.
The rest of the mission went smoothly—more smoothly than we ever could have hoped. The SEALs secured the additional environmental samples and a bag full of flash drives, then high-stepped it half a click to the south for helicopter extraction. Only when they were onboard and the helicopter was back over friendly airspace did all of us back at the ECDC finally relax. The head intel officer gave a halfhearted cheer, and we clapped each other on the backs. Mostly we were relieved. There were a thousand different ways a mission like this could have gone wrong. Relief always overpowered joy when all was said and done.
We filed out of the secure room and made our way across the ECDC building, which was empty at this time of night. In the break room we opened the bottle of champagne waiting in the fridge and drank the bubbly wine from paper cups. The mission was a success. The biological weapons were accounted for and on their way back here, rather than into the heart of a vulnerable European city.
The other Navy analysts shot the shit, but I was quiet while I waited. I was just staying long enough to be polite.
Eventually I got the email I’d been waiting for. I drank the rest of my champagne and said, “Alright, duty calls. I’m off to Rome.”
“Enjoy the soil samples,” one of the other analysts said. “I’m sure it’ll be riveting.”
I smiled. “I can’t wait.”
The flight from the ECDC in Stockholm, Sweden to Rome took less than three hours. Being in Europe was a stark reminder of just how large the United Stat
es was. A three hour flight out of Wilmington would get me as far as Chicago. Here in Europe? I could travel from the Baltic Sea to the Mediterranean.
I took a cab into the city after landing, but I didn’t go to the hotel the ECDC had booked for me. I got out at the address from the text message, retrieved the room key that was waiting for me at the front desk, and went to the fourth floor.
Every light was on in the hotel room, but the three men inside were all fast asleep. Logan was resting in a lounge chair, hands crossed in his lap like he fell asleep waiting for the bus. Hunter was sprawled across the couch next to him, one foot on the ground and an arm across his eyes.
I paused to kiss each of them on the forehead, then went into the bedroom. Cairo was passed out on the bed with all of his clothes still on. I smiled at the sight, then climbed on into bed with him without bothering to change myself.
“I missed you,” he muttered as I curled up against his body.
“Really?” I whispered back. “You guys were only gone a day.”
He put a hand on my ass and pulled me closer. “Exactly. Far too long.”
“Mmm hmm,” I hummed as I fell asleep against him.
I slept deeply, as I always did when I was surrounded by my three SEAL lovers. Even just knowing that Hunter and Logan were in the other room made me feel safe in a way that nothing else could replicate. A woman couldn’t quantify the importance of being with the men she loved.
I woke to the sound of the shower running. Cairo was still snoring away next to me, firm ass pressed against my crotch while I spooned him. I kissed his shoulder and then slipped out of bed.
Logan’s nude shape twisted behind the fogged glass of the shower, steam filling the entire bathroom. His standard P226 sidearm sat on the rack of towels next to the shower, always within reach wherever he went. I stripped my clothes and joined him. He was still shy about nudity, but over time he’d gotten comfortable around me and the others. He was a long way from going to a nude bathhouse, but he was getting there.
“Hello there,” he said in his deep voice. “I never heard you come in last night.”
I gave him a quick kiss and sighed as the scalding water scoured my skin. “I know. I could have been anyone.”
“Good thing you weren’t.”
I wrapped my arms around him to get to the body wash, and squirted a big dollop onto my palm. “You’re getting soft in your old age.”
He made a choking noise. “34 isn’t old.”
“I don’t know,” I said in a serious tone. “That’s almost 50% older than me.”
“Yeah, but you’re young.” He reached down and gave my ass a firm smack.
“Damn right I am.”
I rubbed the body wash into a lather and then Logan and I began scrubbing each other down. It was one of the few intimacies I shared with him that I didn’t share with Cairo or Hunter. Shower time was our time. His slippery fingers brushed between my legs, giving me a thorough clean before moving around to my ass.
I arched an eyebrow at him. “You’re paying a lot of attention to that part of me.”
“Maybe I have plans for it later.”
“Oh?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “We’ll see.”
I took hold of his manhood and rubbed soapy bubbles up and down its length. “Why wait?” I said as it hardened.
I turned around and pressed my ass against his cock, allowing it to fill my cheeks. Logan made a deep noise in his throat and reached around to cup my pussy, two fingers pressing inside. Up and down I ground my ass against his cock while he rubbed me, faster and faster. I reached behind me and took hold of his cock, stroking him rapidly while pressing the tip of his head against my ass. With everything nice and slippery it could have slid right inside, but I kept it on the outside. Teasing him.
“Do you know how much I want you right now?” he growled into my ear.
“Tell me.”
“Badly,” he said. His cock began to spasm. “So, fucking, badly. Karen, fuck, oh God!”
I felt him release all over my ass while his cock shuddered beneath my grip. I sighed and twisted around to kiss him.
“You can have me later. First I’ve got work to do.”
He rumbled with laughter as I got out of the shower.
Hunter came in to give me a good morning kiss while I put on makeup. “Got those soil samples for you,” he said, arms wrapped around me as he hugged me from behind in front of the mirror.
“Hope it wasn’t too difficult for you.”
“Dude, you have no idea.” He mimed a scooping motion. “Had to flick the lid off the vial. Then scoop some dirt into it. And then the toughest part? Putting the lid back on. Took a whole eight seconds for each sample.”
I whistled. “It’s a good thing you’re an expert.”
“Fucking right.” Cairo came in, kissed me on the cheek, and grabbed his toothbrush. “Bro, tell her how good I got those samples.”
Cairo’s amber eyes shone with mirth. “He got them real good.”
Hunter flexed his bicep in front of the mirror. “Told ya.”
“Speaking of those samples,” I said while unwrapping his arm from my waist, “I have to go verify them at the lab.”
“Aww man,” Hunter said. “How is that fair?”
“Um, it’s my job. And it’s the reason I was able to meet you guys here in Rome rather than back in the states.”
“Actually, we’re not going straight home,” Logan said while combing his hair in the other mirror. “We’ve got plans here in Europe.”
My heart sank. I’d been looking forward to going home and spending some alone time with them. “What plans?”
Hunter kissed me on the cheek. “We’ll tell you later.”
“Oh, so it’s a surprise?”
“Maybe.” Hunter gave me a hard smack on the ass. “Go do your job and come back so we can have some real fun.”
I pointed at his face. “I’m going to find out what your plans are, even if I have to torture it out of you.”
“Ohh, kinky.”
I took a taxi to the ECDC satellite laboratory, where both the biological weapons and the soil samples were located. It was a boring little office building on the outside, but after taking an elevator deep underground it opened into a high-tech fortress of a lab. It looked like the beginning of every virus outbreak movie, full of people in biohazard suits and lots of glass walls. I had to pass through three different layers of security just to get to the changing room to put my suit on.
Into the secure lab I went. I had my own little section, where nobody else was allowed to go. I passed through the airlock, waited for the hiss of pressure to close the door behind me, and I sighed with satisfaction.
I had always thought my degree would lead me one of two ways: into a governmental regulation agency, or into the private sector. I’d never considered the applications for the military. Searching for, verifying, and then destroying biological weapons. I stepped up to the containers the SEALs had retrieved with a smile on my face.
I lived for this kind of work. It allowed me to work with what I loved—bacteria and other microscopic organisms—while also helping keep the world a safer place. Logan, Hunter, and Cairo might be the ones to recover the biological weapons, but I was the one to destroy them.
The work today consisted of verifying that the housing for the biological agent had not been damaged, and then opening it. I took samples, applied them to glass slides, and fed them into a computer for analysis. That verified what kind of weapon we were talking about—in this case, a weaponized version of the bacterium clostridium botulinum, more commonly known as botulism. It had been altered by Syrian scientists to reproduce more rapidly, and with fewer non-fatal symptoms. The bacterium would create a toxin in the human body which caused paralysis in the face, limbs, and then respiratory system.
Once we knew what it was, I compared it to the soil samples Hunter had dutifully taken. Thankfully, they were clean. That verified what I a
lready suspected: that the weapon container had remained intact the entire time. None of the terrorists had opened it out of curiosity.
I took great pleasure in depositing the canister and all samples into the incinerator attached to the lab room. Once I left, men with flamethrowers would follow and ensure no other speck of the agent survived. But my part here was done.
Then came the fun part: paperwork. Four hours of filling out documents verifying what the digital data showed, outlining every step I took, and answering a thousand other questions. I doubted anyone would read the full report; most people just read the summary. But that was okay, because I kind of liked filling out the paperwork. It felt like completing a final exam at the end of a semester. Except there was nobody to decide whether I deserved an A or F, because I was the expert.
I left the ECDC laboratory satisfied that my part of the mission was complete.
“Congrats on a job well done,” my analyst boss said when I called to give her the news. “As of this moment, you’re officially on leave for two weeks. Enjoy it, Karen.”
“Great,” I said as I got into the taxi to take me back to the hotel. I’d been looking forward to the time off with my three partners, but now that I knew they were staying in Europe the wind had been knocked out of my sails.
I found the guys eating lunch in their hotel room. “What’s the verdict?” Cairo asked when I entered. “Did you save the world?”
“Of course she did, bro,” Hunter said. “Karen’s the biggest hero out of all of us.”
“The biological weapons have been destroyed,” I confirmed. “I’m officially on leave for the next two weeks. Which brings me back to what we discussed this morning: what are you guys doing in Europe?”
The three of them looked at each other and shrugged.
“Come on. There’s no official Navy mission on the team docket. Is it a different sort of mission? Are you working in conjunction with a European team, with their analysts?”
“I don’t think we can tell her,” Logan said to the others.
Hunter shook his head. “Nah, she probably doesn’t need to know.”
“Oh come on.”