Call to Redemption

by Tawny Weber

  Damn if he didn’t love every one of them.

  But training kept his expression blank as he turned on his heel and, shoulders erect and chin high, returned their salute.

  Then, without another word, he left for his solo fight in the biggest war of his life.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  FOR A BRIEF moment as Nic approached the office of the Judge Advocate General of the US Navy, he realized he’d never actually been in this part of the Coronado base. He’d have been just as happy to live out his career without a visit, he decided, giving a nostalgic nod to the good ol’ days, when the worst that happened at sea was walking the plank.

  At least in the ocean, all he’d have to contend with were sharks.

  “Savino.” Captain Jarrett hurried down the hall to meet him. “You came alone?”

  “Sir.” Nic greeted Captain Jarrett, not bothering to acknowledge the obvious. Since he was standing there by himself, he’d clearly come alone. “Will Admiral Cree be joining us?”

  “I’m sorry. He’s currently at the Pentagon attending a Joint Chiefs of Staff meeting before deploying to his assignment in Afghanistan,” Jarrett said with a nod. Instead of looking Nic in the eye, though, his gaze shifted a little to the left of Nic’s shoulder.

  Why? Was he hiding something about Cree’s absence?

  Someone had masterminded the treasonous acts, both during Operation: Hammerhead and the previous others they’d unearthed as a result. Someone, Nic was sure, who ranked higher than he did. Someone with the pull, the connections and the ability to run a ghost team.

  After serving under the man for a dozen years, he knew Admiral Cree had all of those abilities and more. Added to that, every man Nic’s research had tied to the ghost team was under Cree’s command.

  “You should have brought representation.” Jarrett grimaced, adjusted his cuffs, then adjusted them again. “You could have enlisted a legal representative. Or better, you should have brought Louden. He doesn’t practice but he knows the law. More importantly, he’s one of your own.”

  “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “That doesn’t mean you should walk in there without support. Anyone not on duty could have come in here with you. It’d make a strong impression on the judge, don’t you think? Seeing that kind of support.”

  Nic appreciated that the Captain was looking out for him. But his suggestions that he leave the team hadn’t been an empty gesture. He’d do whatever it took to protect his men. Which meant giving the impression of as much distance between himself and them as possible.

  “The team isn’t very happy with this situation,” he said quietly, leaving Jarrett to draw his own conclusions as to just exactly what about the situation was the issue. “Since I prefer not to have to order them to attend, it was better that I come alone.”

  “Oh.” The other man’s eyes widened with shock before he managed to clear his expression. “I guess I thought things were tighter.”

  “The accusation of treason carries a wide brushstroke, Captain. I can’t blame anyone who’d rather avoid being painted with it.”

  “I don’t know what to say, Savino.” His expression sliding somewhere between worry and depression, Jarrett shook his head. “I can’t believe it’s all going down this way.”

  “Nothing’s gone down yet, Captain.” Nic inclined his head toward the heavy oak doors. “Why don’t we get started and see if anything will.”

  “Yeah. Sure.” Jarrett sighed, adjusted his cuffs yet again, then nodded. “Let’s do this.”

  With that, the man grabbed the brass handle and led the way into the chamber.

  Nic had parachuted into enemy territory under gunfire with less trepidation than he felt walking through that door. But a mission was a mission. So he set aside his doubts, concerns and anger and walked into that room with his head held high, his shoulders straight and the pride of being a US Navy SEAL surging through his veins.

  Like pennants that hung at competitions in the days of old, flags flanked the door. Because this was a preliminary hearing to decide if there was enough evidence to warrant a trial, the courtroom was all but empty. A Captain Nic didn’t recognize manned the bench. His shock of red hair and milky skin contrasted with his crisp uniform. Maybe it was the sea of freckles dancing across it, but his expression appeared relaxed as he sat on the abbreviated podium in front of the emblem of the United States Navy. With him were three officers working at varying clerical roles.

  Nic moved through the short row of chairs to approach the two tables facing the bench. One heavy oak table was empty. It was the other one, occupied by two people, that got his attention.

  Or rather, it was the woman he was focused on.

  Because she seemed damn familiar.

  “Captain Jarrett. Commander Savino. Thank you for attending,” the judge said. “We’ll begin in just a moment.”

  It was then that Nic saw the woman’s face.

  It was like being hit by a tidal wave of emotions, all vying to knock him back on his ass or drown him in shock.

  Darby?

  The sexy woman of his dreams, the emotional touchstone that’d kept him grounded for the last two weeks, she was here?

  Not just here, he realized as his gaze shifted to the man she sat next to.

  Here, as part of the prosecution.

  It was like taking a shot to the helmet. The bullet might ricochet off the metal instead of going through his brain. But the impact was intense.

  Well versed in setting aside emotions in order to focus on the matter at hand, Nic allowed himself a single calming breath. He pulled out the chair, angling it for an obstructed view of the prosecutor’s table.

  And, of course, so he could see the gorgeous probable prosecutor studiously flipping through her notes as if the answer to world peace was buried in there somewhere.

  Jarrett walked over to greet one of the officers, their discussion a quiet murmur in the background. Nic didn’t greet anyone. He simply sat and watched Darby.

  What the hell was she doing here?

  Feeling a little fragile these days, his ego wanted to think she was there to see him. That she’d somehow ferreted out his name, tracked him to California and followed him into this courtroom.

  But not even his ego was delusional enough to believe any of that.

  Not when she was sitting with the prosecution. And she wasn’t acknowledging his presence. Neither fact boded well for their little meet-up here.

  While he tried to decide how he felt about that, on top of everything else hitting him today, he gave her a good long look.

  She appeared nothing like the sexy pixie he’d played with on the beach. The soft, flowing fabrics and sexy necklines of Hawaii had been replaced by dark colors, hard lines and cold metal. Instead of sassy spikes, her hair was sleek, sweeping back from that stunning face to accent carefully made-up eyes and razor-sharp cheekbones.

  He’d never taken her as less than intense, but she had an even stronger edge today. A powerful vibe that told him she knew what she was doing here, and she was damn good at it.

  Her civilian clothes and lack of protocol assured him that she wasn’t military.

  So what the hell was she?

  Ready to explode with fury at the lack of control he had over this downward spiral that was his seemingly doomed career, he wanted to stride across the room, grab her by the shoulders and pull her out from behind that desk. He wanted to know what the hell she was doing and when she’d decided to become the enemy.

  But he couldn’t do any of that.

  He could only stare.

  And patiently wait.

  Finally, when she apparently couldn’t ignore him any longer, Darby took a deep, visible breath, then lifted her gaze to meet his.

  He stared right back at her.


  Her whiskey-gold gaze was like ice. Hard, cold and distant.

  He couldn’t read her. That shouldn’t be so damn sexy, but it was.

  “Gentlemen, we’ll come to order,” the man on the bench stated. “I’m Captain Trenton. Present are Master at Arms Arnold, Warrant Officer Poe and Ensign Harrington.”

  He gave his notes a brief glance, then directed his gaze toward Jarrett as the Captain hurried over to take a seat on the hard wooden chair next to Nic.

  “Also present is Captain Jarrett, as commanding officer to the accused.” His innocuous expression became stern as Captain Trenton looked at Nic. “At this time, Lieutenant Commander Dominic Savino will hear the charges leveled against him.”

  Jaw tight, it took all of Nic’s discipline to keep his fists from clenching in fury at those words. He knew better than to show any sign of concern.

  “Charges are being presented by Lieutenant Thomas of the Judge Advocate General’s office. Also present is Ms. Raye of the federal prosecutor’s office.”

  Federal prosecutor?

  Darby was a US Attorney.

  “I would like to inform you that if the tribunal deems the evidence worthy, court-martial proceedings will commence.” The Captain shifted his gaze to meet Nic’s. “Lieutenant Savino, do you have any questions?”

  “No, sir. No questions,” Nic responded, his words low and clipped.

  His jaw clenched tight. Because he did have questions.

  About a million of them.

  But every one of them was for Darby to answer. And answer she would.

  After.

  * * *

  DARBY HAD FIGURED this day would suck.

  She’d been sure it’d suck hugely.

  But man, oh, man had she underestimated just how much it’d suck to face Nic in this setting, under these circumstances. Worse, she’d forgotten to factor in the effect he had on her. It was like being shot with a Taser, the shock ricocheting through her system like a lightning bolt.

  Pretending to sift through her notes, she wished she’d given in to the 3:00 a.m. urge and called Carson to ask to be taken off the case. But no, she’d been so sure she could handle this. Pride and ambition had squashed that urge like a bug.

  Damn them both.

  She sat silently, again avoiding Nic’s eyes while Paul stood up and, in the most pompous tones she’d ever heard, presented the case on behalf of JAG.

  “Commander Savino planned Operation: Hammerhead. A mission focused on rescuing a captured Russian scientist and keeping a particularly virulent chemical weapon out of the reach of terrorists. A chemical formula that was discovered to have been transmitted during said mission by one of the men tasked with retrieving and protecting it,” Paul explained, his words rising and falling with the fervor of an evangelist minister. “This formula was sold to the enemy in exchange for a half-million US dollars. While he didn’t serve on the mission, he was instrumental in all elements, including damage control after one of his team was injured and another, apparently, killed in action.”

  As she watched Paul pace, gesture and all but call to the gods, Darby felt Nic’s eyes on her. Burning, searching, demanding.

  There wasn’t a lot that made Darby want to squirm. But sitting in a courtroom, preparing to accuse her temporary lover of crimes against country, was definitely making the list.

  “In conclusion,” Paul intoned, “we will prove to the tribunal that not only was Commander Savino aware of the treasonous acts listed in exhibit A, that he organized and implemented the plans to carry out said acts. We have ample evidence to prove to the federal prosecutor’s office that Savino committed treason, or at the very least engaged in a conspiracy with others to commit treason.”

  His final words ringing with righteousness, Darby was surprised when Paul simply sat down instead of taking a bow.

  “Ms. Raye. You have the floor.”

  Now she wished Paul had bowed. She’d welcome even a few more seconds to prepare. Her heart knotted so tight in her chest that she could barely breathe. Darby rubbed her lips together to check her lipstick. She rose, smoothing her palms over the cool black linen of her skirt, her toes curling in her favorite T-strap pumps.

  She wanted to blame her racing heart and dancing pulse on nerves. But she rarely got nervous arguing a case. Which meant the anxiety was all because of Nic.

  Use it, she told herself. Control it before it takes control.

  So, she kept her chin high and focused on the golden ring—career success—as she stepped around the table and approached the desk of the uniformed man behind the desk.

  “Thank you, Captain,” she said clearly, keeping her eyes on the acting judge. “At this time, the federal prosecutor’s office will defer the charge of treason against Commander Savino until you reach a verdict. Upon which time, using the evidence presented here, the Justice Department will pursue the treason charges as a whole against any and all individuals involved in this matter, whether already accused or yet to be named. This includes the pending cases of the United States versus Ramsey and the United States versus Adams.”

  Paul jerked so hard his chair screeched against the marble floor. At the same time, out of the corner of her eye she saw the slight nod from Nic as if he approved of the breadth of her statement. She knew Paul didn’t like it, and from the look on the Captain sitting next to Nic, he didn’t, either.

  But the Deputy Director had agreed with her that given Paul’s personal investment in this case, if they were going to commit manpower in this case, they’d do so in a way that would use that power wisely.

  “Excuse me.” The Captain next to Nic stood, lifting one hand in the air.

  “Captain Jarrett?” the judge acknowledged.

  “Sir, that’s a sweeping intention. I’d like some clarification as to the breadth of the federal prosecutor’s intentions.”

  The judge arched his brows toward Darby, so she clarified.

  “As my esteemed colleague pointed out, charges have already been filed in the cases of the US Navy versus Ramsey and Adams.”

  Citing the case numbers and pertinent details, she tapped her pen on her notepad as if emphasizing a point. As she continued outlining the government’s position on the Ramsey and Adams cases, a part of her waited for Nic to jump out of that uncomfortable-looking wooden chair and out her as a fraud. And the longer he didn’t, the more nervous she became.

  To work it off, she paced in front of the bench as she spoke, using her hands to emphasize key points.

  “While Naval Intelligence’s investigation hasn’t yet released their findings into the actions of Lieutenant Ramsey—including the faking of his own death—that there are accomplices is unquestionable. Given the extensive network of skills involved in these crimes, it’s the opinion of my office that these two men could not have been working alone.”

  It was a sad, painful fact she’d finally been forced to accept. Because while Brandon Ramsey might be the face of this crime, someone else was the brains.

  And that someone could very easily be Nic Savino.

  “Hence, Lieutenant Thomas’s charges,” she said in agreement. “If the court finds merit in charges, we call for the arrest of Lieutenant Commander Dominic Savino, unrestricted line officer, decorated Navy SEAL and leader of Team Poseidon.”

  She went on to recite a dozen of the top missions in Savino’s file, still impressed despite herself as she quoted them aloud.

  Darby wet her lips.

  The country owed this man a great deal. It was going to be a disaster if he’d abused that gratitude.

  “Top of his BUD/S class, he’s a trained linguist, EOD operative, missile tech, aviation specialist and special warfare operative. He’s served four tours under Admiral Leo Cree, multiple deployments to hot zones such as Afghanistan and, after two years at Pear
l Harbor, is now stationed at the Naval Amphibious Base, Coronado.”

  As she wound up her statement, she stopped pacing to face the judge, giving him an intense stare to indicate the seriousness of her words.

  “While the charges against Commander Savino are quite clear, it is the opinion of our office that, as yet, the full extent of those involved has not been revealed. At such time that it is, the charge of treason will be levied against all of the accused.”

  Because there were more. Darby didn’t discount the extent of Nic’s crimes, but she knew he wasn’t in it alone. Carson had agreed that they’d ensure a stronger conviction if they went after everyone at the same time.

  “Thank you, counselors, for your recommendations,” the judge said, his face drawn in sober lines. “This court will take them under advisement. Naval Intelligence has been petitioned to release their findings to this court. Pending the review of said information, we’ll make our recommendations.”

  “Thank you, sir.” With that and a quick nod, Darby strode back to her seat. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t avoid glancing at Nic as she went.

  And to think just two weeks ago, she’d imagined the look on his face if he saw her again. In none of her fantasies had she imagined the look of promised retribution gleaming right now in Nic’s eyes.

  “Good job.” Paul had leaned close to murmur in her ear. “You did your brother proud up there.”

  She shrugged, both to dismiss the comment and to get him away from her face. Instead of replying, she focused on gathering her notes. She carefully tucked them into one part of her messenger bag, her yellow pad into another. Timing it carefully, she waited for Paul to rise and start glad-handing his way around the room before she got to her feet.

  Despite her best intentions, she didn’t make it out of the room unscathed, though.

  Darby tensed when Nic stepped into her path, blocking her exit.

  “So. I guess you’re an attorney,” he said in a conversational tone at odds with the accusation in his eyes. “And what a coincidence. You and me, both of us here.”