Out of Time

by Monica McCarty

  The general’s lack of response and his obvious lack of remorse infuriated Scott. Clearly, Natalie, like the rest of them, were just disposable pawns in the crazed bastard’s efforts to avenge the death of his son and force the US into a war with Russia.

  Colt looked at Scott. “I feel like I’m fucking watching Dr. Strangelove.”

  SEALs on deployment watched a ton of movies, and among the long list of quotable favorites was the dark, satirical comedy by Stanley Kubrick. Scott knew exactly what Colt meant.

  The general’s dark fury directed at Colt suggested that he wasn’t too far gone to understand the reference to the general in the movie who thought twenty million deaths were worth it to destroy the Soviets.

  “I assure you, the Russian threat to the US is not a joke,” Murray said. “They are far more dangerous than ISIS or a lone-wolf terrorist with a car or a bomb. Look what happened in the last election. That is only the beginning. They have the ability to destabilize not only our government with technology but our entire infrastructure with their close-to-operational antisatellite weapons. And this is in addition to the known military threat and the rumors of a secret doomsday project.” So apparently Team Nine’s mission hadn’t been a complete ruse, Scott thought. “Someone needed to do something. What I did was for the good of the country.”

  Scott didn’t disagree with the threat; he disagreed with one man playing God and murdering people to achieve his ends. Murray could call it what he wanted, but slaughter wasn’t sacrifice. It was betrayal, treason, and murder.

  Disgusted, Scott picked up the general’s phone and handed it to him. “Call them off.”

  “Who?”

  “The men you have doing your dirty work,” Colt said. “I recognized one of the CAD operatives you sent after Travis.”

  “Why should I do that?” Murray said, continuing his defiance.

  “Because it’s over, but it’s up to you how it ends.”

  The general looked at him for a long moment, weighing his options. But it was clear he understood. Justice would be served, but whether that was in this room or in a courtroom would be his decision.

  Murray picked up the phone and made the call. Whatever threat there was to Natalie, her parents, or the other survivors was over.

  When Scott and Colt left the room a few minutes later, the general was slumped over the desk, a gun in his hand and a bullet through his temple. Ever the soldier, he’d fallen on his sword rather than face the public shame of what he’d done.

  The end had been written and justice had been served. Nine men could finally rest in peace.

  All that was left was to clear Natalie, and Scott had an idea about that.

  EPILOGUE

  ONE MONTH LATER

  Natalie had just finished cleaning the glass from the newly installed living room windows when she heard the car drive up.

  With a cry of happiness, she tossed the rag into the bucket and ran—or waddled—down the new sturdy wooden porch stairs. The spray of bullets had torn up most of the front of the house, but thanks to help from Becky Randall and a good portion of the town selectmen (as well as an appearance or two from the sheriff), the house had been mostly repaired within a few days of Natalie’s return to the farm in Vermont a few weeks ago.

  As promised, Scott had taken her to Minnesota to visit her family right after the general’s death. Scott hadn’t been able to stay long as he’d had to return to Washington to contact command and deal with the political shit storm of five members of the Lost Platoon, as Brittany Blake had dubbed them, coming back from the dead.

  As Natalie’s fate for her role as an unwilling Russian agent was still uncertain, Scott thought it better that she stay in hiding until it was decided. To avoid the chance of someone recognizing Natalie Andersson, she’d stayed with her family for only a few days before returning to Vermont as Jennifer Wilson.

  But her family would be coming for a visit soon, and she hoped to convince them to stay. She had a few propositions for them.

  Scott had managed to get away for a few days at a time to visit her, but the debrief and damage control plan were both time-consuming and stressful. As Colt had predicted, Scott had spent a lot of time locked up in a little room going over every facet of what had happened.

  But now he was here, and she was in his arms before the car door had slammed shut.

  He spun her around, kissed her, and then put her down to look at her as if memorizing every inch.

  She smiled a little self-consciously as he put his hand on her stomach. “You look so different.”

  She laughed and rolled her eyes. “You mean I look pregnant.”

  He looked crushed by the changes. “I’ve been gone too long.”

  It had been only about ten days since he’d been here, but she’d “popped,” as they called it. There was no hiding it now.

  “You have,” she agreed. “But you are here now, and believe me, I still have a long way to go. You have plenty of time to watch me get fat.”

  He frowned. “You aren’t fat; you’re pregnant.”

  Unfortunately right now it felt the same. But she was too happy to argue with him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

  “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

  Very aware of her appearance, she made a face. “Don’t you know women don’t like to be surprised? Especially when they’ve been in the sun all day working outside.”

  “You look gorgeous.”

  He swung her up in his arms, carried her inside, and proved it on the living room couch. As she’d yet to put up the new shutters on the windows, they were fortunate that no one stopped by unexpectedly—they certainly would have gotten an eyeful.

  Scott had insisted on stripping every last piece of clothing off them both before settling her on his lap and letting her sink down on him inch by inch.

  He pinched her nipples and cupped her breasts as she rode him. Sliding up and down that thick slab, until she drove them both to the peak. Right when he started to come he brought her down hard and ground his body against hers until she shattered in a chorus of gasps and cries.

  Still collapsed on his lap, she recovered enough to pull back and look at him. He’d shaved and cut most of the brown dye out of his hair, looking more like her clean-cut officer. But there was still an edge to him that hadn’t been there before.

  He’d loosened up a little. He was still by the book and held those around him to a high bar, but he wasn’t quite so rigid and uncompromising as before. She didn’t know whether it was her, his biological father, or that he wasn’t trying as hard to prove himself worthy of the name of the man who’d raised him. Maybe it was a combination of all three as well as what he’d been through with the team. Betrayal on all its levels had fundamentally changed him.

  “I didn’t realize you were such an exhibitionist,” she said with a glance to the window.

  “I’m not,” he said with a smirk. “I told Brouchard to make sure we weren’t disturbed.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You mean the sheriff you’ve been having keep an eye on me?”

  He didn’t bother denying it. “Yep.”

  “I don’t understand. I thought you didn’t like each other.”

  “We came to a little understanding.”

  “What kind of understanding?”

  “The kind where I won’t kill him, and he won’t ask you to dinner again.”

  She rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t strike me as the back-down type.”

  Scott smiled, caught. “He’s not. I think it had more to do with your friend.”

  “Becky?”

  He nodded. “As much as I hate to admit you were right, it was just friendly interest in you on his part. Apparently there’s been something going on with him and Rebecca for a long time.”

  Natalie wasn’t surprised. She’d have to get the
whole story out of Becky the next time she saw her.

  “So if you are here, does that mean . . . ?”

  He nodded, lifted her chin, and planted a soft, tender kiss on her lips. “It’s done. It’s over.”

  Her eyes searched his face as if not trusting herself to believe it. “All of it?”

  “All of it. For the good of the country and to avoid war, what happened in Russia is going to stay buried for now—as is the general’s role in it.”

  Natalie had figured as much. In the press, General Murray’s death by suicide had been blamed on grief over the death of his son, which she supposed in a way was true.

  When the four men had returned from General Murray’s house to tell her and Kate that he was dead, Natalie knew she wasn’t the only one wondering whether the “suicide” was by the general’s hand. But Scott said they’d given him a choice and the general had done his part.

  “And . . . ?” she said anxiously, wanting to shake him for making her wait.

  His eyes twinkled. “And your role has also been buried. The president agreed that you’d suffered enough, and when it came down to it, nothing would be served by putting you in prison. It helped that you had tried to call off the mission and ended up saving six men.”

  Natalie didn’t realize how worried she’d been—despite Scott’s assurances—until that moment. She burst out crying.

  Scott chuckled as he repositioned her on his lap—still naked—and bundled her in his arms.

  When she had exhausted her tears of relief, she looked into his amused gaze and blinked back watery eyes. “You shouldn’t be laughing at me.”

  He was unrepentant, and the look he shot her was a little smug. “You should have trusted me more. I told you it would be all right. Looks like you might be able to have that farm and cheese business after all.”

  She smiled, biting her lip. Now probably wasn’t the time to tell him that she had some ideas about that. He hadn’t been the only one busy the past few weeks. She and Becky had come up with an idea on how to fend off the developers, and it involved Scott. Or rather, some of those millions he had put in trust when his father died. “Have you ever heard of land conservation?”

  He looked momentarily confused by the non sequitur. But he caught on quickly enough. “A little, but why do I think I’m going to be hearing a lot about it, and that it’s going to cost me?”

  She beamed. He was no dummy. “You never did get me a new watch. Maybe we can come up with some kind of deal.”

  He waggled his brows, and she swatted him. Ouch. Blasted muscles!

  “Not that kind of deal. I can’t believe you are trying to negotiate with sex.”

  He sighed. “I have a feeling there is going to be very little negotiating involved. You already have the take the ball and run with it look.” He glanced down at the Yankees sweatshirt that was still on the ground. “Which reminds me. I need to get you a new shirt.”

  Natalie just didn’t get the whole Red Sox–Yankees rivalry thing. It was just a game. “This one is just fine. Besides, it was Jennifer’s, and it reminds me of her.”

  He swore, apparently realizing he was going to lose that one.

  Suddenly the ramifications of what he’d said earlier came to her. “What about you and the team? If this stays buried does that mean you won’t be a SEAL anymore?”

  She would blame herself forever if he had to stop doing what he loved.

  “Not exactly. I’ve been offered a new position.”

  “You have?” Thank God! “That’s wonderful.”

  He looked at her uncertainly. “I hope you still think so when you hear it. The president figured that being dead is pretty much the best deep cover you can have, and she wants Retiarius to go completely black. I would be in charge of a new SEAL squad composed initially of the survivors and a few others handpicked by me, who will only be known by a handful of senior officers. We’ll report directly to the president.”

  Even though he was trying to hide it, she could see right away that he wanted to do it. “It sounds like an incredible opportunity. Of course you are going to accept.”

  He looked at her intently. “Are you sure? It’s going to make things more difficult for you here. You’ll have to lie—or at least not tell the complete truth—to a lot of people.”

  She winced a little. “Can I tell Brock and Becky?”

  He smiled at her expression and kissed her on her wrinkled nose. “We’ll talk about it.”

  “What about Colt? Will he be a part of it?”

  Scott shook his head. “Not right now. Colt is taking some time off to spend some time with Kate and the baby.”

  “Did you say ‘baby’?”

  He grinned at her expression. “Yes, baby. Apparently Colt had the idea when they visited Travis’s girlfriend in the hospital. She planned to give the baby up for adoption, but Colt convinced her to do a private adoption. She liked the idea that one of Travis’s friends would be raising the baby and agreed.” She could tell that Scott liked the idea, too. Travis’s death had been hard on him. “They brought the baby home yesterday. I would have come yesterday, but I wanted to stick around and meet my new nephew.” Scott beamed, but then practically snickered. “You should see Colt with him. He’s ridiculous. I’ve never seen someone so nervous in my life. He didn’t want to put JR in the car to drive him home because he was worried some lunatic would crash into them.”

  Natalie laughed along with him but didn’t have the heart to tell him that he’d probably be the same way. He’d figure it out soon enough. “JR? They named him after Colt?”

  Scott shook his head. “James Robert. They named him after Travis.”

  It took her a minute to put it together. “Jim Bob?”

  Scott nodded. The shadow that passed over his face wasn’t quite as sad anymore. She suspected that knowing Travis’s son was now in the family forever helped.

  “I’m looking forward to Kate and Colt meeting their niece in a few months,” she said.

  “Me, too,” he said, with another hand on her stomach that warmed her instantly. It took him a minute. “Wait! A niece? We’re having a girl?”

  She nodded, laughing at his reaction. “Yes, I found out last week at my checkup. I wanted to wait to tell you in person. The doctor also gave me this if you are curious.” She handed him an envelope. “It’s the test results. I don’t want you to ever wonder.”

  He took the envelope and ripped it into shreds. “I won’t. I don’t. I never really did. I feel like an asshole for even suggesting it.”

  She traced her finger along his tight mouth, seeing how angry he was with himself. “Don’t. You had every reason not to trust me at the time. I’m sorry for lying to you. I’m sorry for all of it.”

  Scott kissed her, and their current state of clothing made it easy to take up again where they’d just left off. This time, he made love to her slowly and sweetly. With every stroke, she felt the promise of her new life. Her new future.

  She knew with Scott she might never have the “boring” life she thought she wanted, but he’d always keep her safe.

  And maybe a little excitement wouldn’t be so bad.

  She was lying down beside him on the couch curled up in his arms when he reached down to retrieve something from the pocket of his jeans. “I almost forgot the most important thing.”

  “What’s that?” she said lazily. In truth, she was so wonderfully exhausted she could barely lift her head to look at him.

  “As far as we know the Russians still think you are dead, and if we are going to keep it that way, you are going to have to change your name to make sure no one ever connects you to Jennifer Wilson.”

  He sank down onto one knee next to the couch.

  That brought her up quickly. She dragged the afghan that she’d pulled down on them with her as she sat up. Her heart stopped when he held out a
ring. Not just any ring, but an enormous diamond ring.

  “How about Jennifer Taylor?” he asked huskily.

  She looked back and forth between him and the ring in wonder—and not because the gorgeous monstrosity had to be at least ten carats. She was so overwhelmed, so happy, she didn’t know what to say.

  “Will you marry me, Natalie? I should have asked you before I left for Russia.”

  Her heart seemed to have stopped beating and was lodged in her throat. “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve been sure for a long time. I carried this with me the entire time on the mission. It brought me luck. It brought me back to you.”

  She hurried up and nodded before he could take it back. “Yes, yes, I’ll marry you!”

  “Thank God,” he said, dragging her into his embrace again. “I thought I might have to bring out the big guns to persuade you.”

  Her brows drew together in question.

  “Your parents. I asked your father’s permission a few weeks ago—which I’m not sure he would have been inclined to give if I hadn’t mentioned the baby.”

  Natalie laughed. Her father had given Scott a hard time. Her father liked Scott, but he didn’t seem to realize that. Natalie had been amused by the whole thing. She’d never seen Scott uncertain before.

  “And I think your mom and sister have already been planning the wedding. Your mom was disappointed that she wouldn’t be able to tell any of your friends—with you being dead and all—but she seemed excited to hear that the senator had offered to hold it at his estate.”

  Natalie suddenly understood the expression about feeling as if you’d been hit by a freight train. She couldn’t believe he’d done all of that without her knowing. “Wow, you’ve been busy.”

  “I wasn’t taking any chances. It pays to be a winner.”

  She laughed at the use of the favorite SEAL saying, looking forward to the next seventy years or so of Mr. Take Charge SEAL Commander realizing that she played to win, too.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from the first in the Lost Platoon series by Monica McCarty . . .