Wet N Wild Navy SEALs

by Tawny Weber

  No other man here knew his deepest regret. Brought together by a SEAL mission gone wrong bonded men, even those from separate teams, even though one was nearly a decade older than the other.

  Jake peered over his shoulder at Ash, met the censure in his friend's eyes dead on. "You know why I can't drag any woman into this world."

  Bliss felt more than heard Jake step up behind her chair. All the pleasure she'd derived from the team's compliments had turned bitter with Jake's silence. Why did she care what he thought?

  She cared because it was her nature to care, especially for wounded souls. And the way Jake had run from her tease about his brother told her his wound went deep, deeper even than what she'd garnered from Renn's take on the family dynamics.

  But she'd come here to find her brother. Not soothe Jake's savage beast. Just keep it light, she told herself.

  "You finally come by to thank me for dinner?" she asked without taking her eyes from the screen full of underground shots.

  "You forced me to bring you here. The least you can do is earn your keep."

  Her fingers stilled on the mouse. "Ah. So that's how you want to play it."

  "I don't play," Jake said, leaning over her shoulder and eyeing the photo she'd pulled up from the thumbprints, a windowless metal door.

  She wanted to tell him there was nothing wrong with taking a play break now and then. But she had no business inserting her opinions into his life. He wasn't her responsibility—her cause.

  He took control of the mouse and scrolled through the next several tunnel shots, grousing, "Doesn't your brother believe in labeling anything?"

  "It's the characteristics and flavor of the environment gamers are interested in…unless the game is about climbing Mount Everest or driving the Indianapolis 500. Then the gamer wants to know where he is in the real world."

  "You sure you're not a gamer?" he asked, his brow furrowed.

  "Do you really think I'd lie about something like that?"

  His eyes narrowed on the screen. "People lie about all sorts of things for all sorts of reasons."

  She folded her arms across her chest and leaned away from him. "I picked up a lot from my brother."

  A cityscape populated the screen. He motioned her out of the chair, took her place. Scanning through rows of shots, he paused periodically. "This is Guanajuato city, the state capitol."

  "That's where they flew into," she said.

  He scrolled back through the tunnel shots until he got to the large, lit tunnels with cars driving through them. "Those tunnels would be under the city. But I don't recognize the smaller ones."

  "Robbie said something about silver mines."

  "There're silver mines all over the state of Guanajuato. I'm unaware of any mines in the city," he said with a crispness that bordered on chastising.

  Bliss was about to fire back some snide remark when her cell vibrated against her hip. She fumbled it from her pocket. Startled and hopeful at the same time, she stared numbly at the unfamiliar number on the phone's screen. Robbie?

  Chapter 7

  "Answer it," Jake snapped.

  She flicked on the cell, her voice little more than a breath. "Hello?"

  "Bliss. It's me, Rob," the subdued but familiar voice said.

  Bliss grabbed the back of Jake's chair to steady herself. "Where are you?"

  "I'm in Mexico."

  "Where in Mexico?" she asked, meeting Jake's gaze as he rose to his feet.

  "That's not important," her brother said.

  "Yes it is," she said. "Tell me. I'm in Mexico, too."

  Jake nodded approval she was right to tell him she was in the country.

  "Why are you here?" Rob asked, his voice thick with panic.

  "I've been looking for you."

  There was a pause at the other end.

  "Robbie, are you still there?"

  "Yeah. I'm just trying to figure out if you being in Mexico is a good thing or not. Exactly where are you?"

  "Tell me where you are and I'll tell you where I am."

  Jake gave her another approving nod.

  "I don't think that's a good idea," Robbie said.

  "Why don't you think telling me where you are is a good idea?" she said aloud for Jake's sake.

  "It's too late."

  "What's too late?" she repeated, partly out of panic, partly for Jake.

  "I wasn't calling you for help," he choked out. "I was calling to…"

  "Calling me to what, Robbie?"

  "To-to tell you I was in trouble an-and to say goodbye."

  She turned laser focused eyes on Jake. "Why are you calling to say good-bye?"

  "Be-Because I don't know if I'm going to make it out of this alive."

  "Out of what alive? What have you gotten yourself into?" she demanded, holding the cell far enough from her ear so Jake could hear her brother's response.

  "I don't know what I did, Bliss, but whoever killed Munch and blew up IE is still hunting me." A shuddering breath echoed in her ear. "They've tracked me here. They want me out of the picture, too. I can't let you get involved."

  Jake grabbed a pad of paper and pen off the table and wrote something as she responded.

  "I'm already involved," she said, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I've always been involved in your life, Robbie. Don't shut me out now."

  Jake held up the tablet and she read what he'd written. Tell him you're with me. Tell him he can trust me to help him.

  She swallowed back the lump in her throat. "Robbie, would you trust your boss to help you?"

  There was a long hesitation before he answered. "You know who my boss is?"

  "I'm with Jake now."

  "How? When?" The words tumbled from Robbie, panic constricting his voice.

  Afraid he was going to hang up, she rushed out, "You can trust Jake."

  Silence.

  "Robbie. Please let Jake help you. You know he can."

  More silence.

  Around the lump in her throat, she croaked, "I love you, Robbie. I can't lose you, too. Please."

  Jake didn't want Bliss to come with him, even though it should be a simple pickup. And that was exactly the point she'd argued, that they weren't doing a hostage extraction…even if Jake was treating it like a raid. In the end, he'd recognized she'd argue the point to her dying breath and he hadn't the time to waste arguing. So he'd strapped body armor to her torso, plunked a helmet on her head, and belted her into the backseat of the SUV.

  Now, pulling into the deserted factory complex where Rob had said to meet him, Jake knew he should have left Bliss back at command. There were too many shadows cast by darkened buildings and abandoned equipment, too many places where bad guys could be hiding. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

  "Stop here," Jake said to their driver as they rolled, lights off, into one of the furthest reaching shadows. An accompanying team vehicle found its own shadow well off to the side to park in. Likewise, the squad he'd sent to the backside of the factory radioed they were in place.

  Jake exited the vehicle, the bad feeling he'd had since Rob agreed to let them pick him up—a sixth sense—had prompted him to bring along two additional squads for a mission that should have used only one. Night Vision Goggles in place, he scanned the area for any silhouette out of sync with the straight lines of a building or movement among the litter of discarded equipment. He listened for the ratcheting of a round into a chamber. What he heard was the snick of the SUV's back door latch opening.

  He flipped up his NVG and wheeled at Bliss, shoving her back behind the open door, his voice low and tight. "You stay here."

  "He'll never recognize you guys in your military gear. You could be any goon squad," she whispered back at him. "If he sees me, he'll know for certain it's you coming to get him."

  The last thing he needed was to have to watch out for her, too. And then there was that gut feeling someone other than Robbie Burns O'Hara was watching them. But she had a point and God knows she'd argue it.

/>   Then again, Bliss O'Hara's presence seemed to throw off his instincts. He might be looking for trouble where none existed.

  "Okay," he whispered, "but stay close behind me and keep quiet."

  "How's Robbie supposed to know we're here if we don't call out to him?"

  "He'll see us. He'll see you. Judging by some of what was written in the Cooper novel, it's clear your source—your brother—has paid close attention to our methods."

  He flipped his NVG back in place and advanced toward the largest building, his two man team flanking him in a wide arc, his second squad taking up wide ranging tactical positions. He scanned the landscape, the sweep of his HK semi-automatic synced with the trajectory of his gaze.

  "Stop," Bliss all but shouted in his ear.

  "Son of a—" The curse wasn't even fully out of Jake's mouth when dirt exploded from the ground in front of his feet, pelting his legs, the ring of a single shot echoing off the buildings.

  Then all hell broke loose.

  Calling a retreat, Jake stepped backwards and slammed into Bliss. She went down, her legs tangling with his. He stumbled but managed to keep himself upright. One-handed, he fired blasts from his HK at the glassless windows from which outgoing rounds flashed. Grabbing Bliss by the straps of her body armor, he dragged her toward the SUV.

  Fitch covered him from behind the front passenger door as Jake heaved Bliss across the backseat and dove in on top of her. Everybody in, the SUV shot backwards, spitting rocks, the doors slamming shut as the vehicle spun away from the warehouse complex.

  Flipping back his goggles, Jake growled into Bliss' ear. "Your brother led us into an ambush."

  "He wouldn't do that," Bliss croaked out, Jake's hit having knocked the wind from her, and the weight of his body covering hers compressing her lungs.

  "Is everyone okay and accounted for?" Jake shouted into his mouthpiece.

  "Robbie didn't set us up," she said, still getting no response from Jake.

  Apparently his team members had identified themselves via their communication devices as Jake ordered the driver to, "Take us home."

  She'd thought they were already traveling at top speed. She was wrong. The SUV lurched forward, slamming her and Jake against the back of the seat. Every pit, every rut of the eroded road bounced the SUV hard—bounced Jake against her back. She grunted with each impact, fast losing air what with two hundred pounds of muscles and military gear pinning her.

  "Get. Off. Me," she managed to get out.

  "When I'm sure we're not being followed."

  "I. Can't. Breathe."

  He shifted, but kept one knee on the seat by her hip as he hovered over her, his rifle supported against the top of the seatback and aimed out the back of the SUV.

  "What are you going to do if they are following us?" she asked, rising onto her elbows. "Shoot out the back window like some action hero?"

  Even in the dark, she caught the flick of his eyes in her direction. "I leave the cowboy tricks to my movie star brother."

  If he hadn't muttered the words in such a serious tone, she might have thought he was making a joke. Then there was his unapologetic shove of her head back to the seat. "Keep your head down."

  She lay beneath the arc of his body, a jumble of reactions tumbling through her. Gratitude that she could once again fill her lungs with air. Agony from the punishment her back took with each jarring heave of the SUV. Fear she would throw up. Not knowing whether throwing up was about the jolting ride or being shot at. Not wanting to know.

  "Didn't he even think about you—that you might be with us?" Jake snarled.

  "Who? What?" she sputtered.

  "Your brother. He set us up, and without a thought that you might be with us."

  "I told you, he didn't set us up," she said, ratcheting up on her elbow again only to be shoved down again.

  "The hell he didn't," Jake all but spat, his breath hot against her neck. "Or were you in on it?"

  "What? Me?"

  "I told you to be quiet yet you all but shouted for us to stop. Was that the signal?"

  "No. No," she sputtered, feeling the floor for the cell phone she'd dropped when Jake had thrown her down on the seat. "Robbie warned us. I was reading what he sent."

  "What are you looking for on the floor?"

  His body slammed down on hers just as her fingers found the phone. His fingers closed around her wrist in a painfully tight grip. He hauled her hand into the moonlight invading the windows, twisting her wrist with such force she flipped onto her back. She cried out and he wrenched the phone from her fingers.

  "Look at the last message," she implored as he pinned her, his knees digging into her thighs, both wrists caught in one of his hands, immobilizing her hands against the hard glass above her head.

  She watched his face lit by the phone's screen as he read the text message.

  Location corrupted.

  The hard lines of Jake's face transitioned from angry to uneasiness, and he released her wrists. That's when it hit her.

  "Robbie's still back there. We can't leave him behind. Not with them."

  The light off the cell screen caught the apology in Jake's eyes before the SEAL shutters fell into place.

  "Jake," she pleaded, lurching up at him, grabbing for him.

  He flinched and her hand came away from his upper arm wet and sticky. She stared at her hand smeared with a dark liquid. Blood. Jake's blood.

  Hell, he hadn't even realized he'd been hit until she grabbed him. And now she looked like she was about to freak out.

  Instead, she let loose with a command. "I need a first aid kit. He's been shot."

  Fitch peered at him from the front passenger seat, eyes wide and questioning.

  "Arm," Jake said. "Just a nick."

  But Bliss had already removed the knife from his leg sheath and sliced open his shirtsleeve.

  "Where's that kit?" she demanded.

  Fitch jumped into action as if his commanding officer had issued an order. He handed her a bottle from the kit. She held it up, squinting at the label. "This isn't peroxide."

  "It's sterile water," Fitch said as he pulled supplies from the kit. "Flush the wound with it."

  Who was this woman? A minute ago she was all but hysterical about them leaving her brother behind and now she was acting like a field-experienced medic holding his arm as she poured sterile water into his wound.

  "Hey," he protested when the overspray hit his lap. "Enough with the water. You've got me wet to my skivvies."

  "I need light," she howled, tossing aside the empty bottle. "And a sterile pad."

  Fitch handed her a wrapped pad and shined a flashlight on Jake's arm.

  "Turn on the dome light," she snapped.

  "Can't. Makes us too easy a target," Fitch said.

  Holding Jake's arm in the beam of light with one hand and the packaged pad in the other, she tore the package open with her teeth.

  Jake gaped at her. Where'd she learn to handle an emergency like a gunshot wound with such efficiency? Worse, how had he missed that information in his background check on her?

  She pressed the pad to his wound a little too hard.

  "Easy," he said, more out of anger at himself for missing intel on her than discomfort.

  "You're bleeding," she said. "The wound needs pressure on it."

  "It's a flesh wound," he argued.

  "The bullet could have hit an artery or damaged nerves."

  He flexed his fingers and wrist.

  "I'm good. It didn't hit anything vital."

  "Stop moving your arm," she commanded of him, her next breath an order to Fitch. "Contact Doc. Make sure he doesn't dilly-dally his way back to the compound. We'll need him as soon as we get there."

  Fitch got on the horn immediately.

  "It's just a flesh wound," Jake said.

  "That's the adrenalin talking," she said, propping his arm on her shoulder, elevating it.

  "Where'd you learn how to do this?"

  "Basic first
aid training when you teach in inner city schools."

  "Seriously?"

  "Yes to the basic first aid part," she said through gritted teeth, bracing her body, struggling to keep his arm secure as they careened up the mountain.

  "So, you didn't teach in an inner city school?" he asked, feeling more confused than he ever had in his life.

  "Not on a regular basis."

  Okay, that could explain why he'd missed that detail of her past. He'd pretty much skimmed over her teaching history.

  The compound gate rolled back and she opened the SUV door before the vehicle even skidded to a stop. "Let's go people. We've got a wounded man here."

  He scooted across the seat as she slid to the ground, still holding his arm above his heart.

  "Why are you moving?" she demanded.

  "Because I can."

  "You could pass out."

  "I'm not going to."

  Bliss glanced around at the men rushing towards them. "Come on people. He's losing blood."

  "No I'm not," Jake said.

  "I'll keep his arm propped across my shoulders," she said to Fitch. "You hold him up from the other side."

  "I can walk on my own."

  "You only think you can," Bliss said.

  He and Fitch exchanged glances. Fitch shrugged and wedged himself under Jake's good arm. Jake grumbled and stepped along with the support of Bliss and Fitch.

  "Doc," Bliss hollered as the man sprinted towards them in full tactical gear. "Get inside and ready the infirmary."

  Without missing a step, Doc wheeled for the hacienda.

  Jake cursed under his breath. Maybe he'd trained his team too well to follow orders.

  In the infirmary off the common room, Jake hopped onto the gurney.

  "Lay down in case you faint," Bliss said.

  "I'm not going to faint, woman. Quit fussing."

  Doc took his arm in hand and nodded for her to step aside. Removing the bandage she'd applied, he set to work.

  "I flushed it with sterile saline in the truck," she said, peering around Doc's elbow.

  "She used a whole bottle of the stuff on me," Jake grumbled. "I'm soaked."

  "What can I do?" she asked, rocking back and forth.