Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Fighting for Honor (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Jesse Jacobson

  Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Stoker Aces Production, LLC. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Special Forces: Operation Alpha remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Stoker Aces Production, LLC, or their affiliates or licensors.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  FIGHTING FOR HONOR

  Jesse Jacobson

  Chapter 1

  Nearly every woman in the gym had her eyes trained on the tall sculpted man working the Nautilus machines. There were a wide variety of hotties in the facility, but this one man was a truly unique physical specimen. At 6-foot-6 he was a head taller than every other man in the room. His golden skin, sharply defined biceps and broad shoulders looked as if they were chiseled out of granite. On the nautilus machine his thighs pumped like pistons on a truck engine. Although he wore a green tank top, the material was thin and clung tightly to his perfectly-shaped waist, revealing the outline of clearly defined stomach muscles. His four-day scruff, closely cropped hair and strong jawline gave him a young George Clooney quality.

  The subject of attention finished his work on the machine, wiping his face and brow with a towel, then downed a healthy portion of water from his bottle. He then eyed an open treadmill. He moved toward the machine, seeming to be oblivious that there were multiple sets of female eyes tracking his every move.

  Two women were laying on the mat, approximately 20 feet away, performing sit-ups. They were beauties in their own right, a blonde and a brunette, both in their early thirties. The blonde had been watching Trevor for the last fifteen minutes, not so much checking him out as she was stalking a prey.

  She lay on her right side, facing him, and began doing leg lifts. She was voluptuous, long and lean, full-breasted and highly toned. She wore high, white knee socks and a skin-tight pink leotard, cut low at the top, revealing ample cleavage. The chiseled male glanced in her direction. The blonde smiled at him, exposing a full set of bleached white teeth. He also smiled.

  She rolled over on her opposite side, and again began performing leg lifts, hoping he’d take a long look at the firm buttocks she’d been working on for 30-minutes a day, four days a week, going on 6-months now.

  She whispered to the brunette, “I think he’s into me,” she said.

  The brunette, in the process of doing stomach crunches, reacted slowly, “I’m sorry,” she said. “Were you speaking to me?”

  “Yeah, no one else is here,” she sniped. “I’m talking about Mr. Universe over there. I think he’s into me.”

  The brunette sat up and grabbed a towel, looking in the man’s direction, “Him?” she asked.

  “Of course, him,” the blonde replied. “Have you ever seen him here in the gym before?”

  “Nope,” the brunette replied. She returned to her crunches.

  “Really?”

  “Really. I have never seen him in here before and I come here all the time.”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen you here a few times,” the blonde acknowledged. “You’re pretty quiet. You can’t tell me he isn’t the hottest looking man you’ve seen in here… like, ever.”

  The brunette took a longer look and nodded, “He is hot, that’s for sure. What were you saying before?”

  “I said, I think he’s into me,” she repeated. “He looked this way a minute ago, and he smiled.”

  “Well…” the brunette replied, seemingly indifferent. She pointed at herself, “Hello? There’s another person over here. How do you know he wasn’t checking me out?”

  The blonde stopped her leg lifts and sized up the brunette, who was average height with long dark hair, full lips and deep brown eyes. Her figure was fuller, but she was by no means overweight. Nor was she anything close to being perfectly toned.

  The blonde nodded dismissively, “No offense,” she said. “I mean, you’re really cute and all, but you are a little on the… uh… soft and fleshy side. A man like him wants someone who has the same commitment to staying in shape as he does.”

  “You mean someone like you?” the brunette replied.

  The blonde formed an expression on her face that combined confusion with mild irritation, “Yes, like me,” she said. “What’s wrong with me?”

  “Nothing,” the brunette replied. “You are truly gorgeous. I just don’t think someone like him would be into you.”

  “And why not?” she replied, irritation growing in her voice.

  “Never mind,” she said.

  “No, really.”

  The brunette folded her towel and sat it beside her. She sighed, “Okay, look, do you see the tattoos on his arms?”

  The blonde sneaked a look, “Yeah, why?”

  “Those are SEAL tats. That man is a Navy SEAL.”

  “Okay,” she replied. “So?”

  “So… gorgeous women throw themselves at men like him every day,” the brunette said. “I was here before you walked in. At least two other women approached him before you arrived. He was polite but blew them both off. If he was looking, he’d have shown some interest in one of them.”

  The blonde glanced at the SEAL, now running on the treadmill and turned back to the brunette. She cupped both her breasts and lifted, pushing them almost completely out of her top. “Yeah, were either one of those women packing a set like these?”

  “No,” the brunette replied, wondering but not asking just how much surgery was involved in creating them. “The other two women were both… less well endowed.”

  “Uh huh,” she said, smiling and nodding, with a degree of satisfaction. “That’s what I thought.”

  The brunette sighed lightly and resumed her crunches.

  The blonde noted the expression on the brunette’s face, “You still aren’t convinced, are you?”

  “I’m sorry,” the brunette replied. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Really, I just came here to work out. I’m sorry if I offended you.”

  “You think I’m just some ditsy airhead, don’t you?” the blonde asked.

  “I did not say that,” the brunette replied, emphatically. “I don’t know you. I’m sorry. Look, I’d really like to do a hundred more crunches before I leave.” She patted her tummy and crinkled her nose condescendingly, “You know, to work off a little of my… fleshiness.”

  The blonde ignored the dig. “You think I’m just some dumb blonde,” she said, ignoring the brunette’s dig. She sighed, stewing inside.

  “I have an idea. Why don’t we take turns walking over there and striking up a conversation with Mr. Tall, Tan and Hunkalicious? We’ll flip a coin to see who goes first. Between us, let’s see who can get a date with him or at least get his number.”

  The brunette shook her head, “Not interested,” she said.

  “Are you afraid?” she asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Then why not?”

  She held up her left hand. It sported a diamond ring.

  “Oh, you’re engaged? Okay, I get it,” the blonde woman said. “That explains a lot. Well, if you will excuse me, I’m going to walk over and strike up a conversation with a Greek statue.”

  “Good luck with that,” the brunette said, rolling her eyes.

  “I caught that,” the blonde said.

  “What?” came the reply.

  “The eye roll.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the brunet
te lied.

  “Like hell you don’t,” she replied.

  The brunette resumed her crunches.

  “I’ll tell you what,” the blonde began. She pulled her gym bag over to her lap, unzipped it and reached inside. She pulled out her wallet and fished out a one-hundred-dollar bill. “I have a hundred bucks that says I make a date or at least get Mr. Navy SEAL’s phone number.”

  The brunette stopped her crunches and considered the proposal. She pursed her lips and swayed her head back and forth as she thought.

  “Okay. You’re on,” she said finally, grabbing her own bag. She fished out four twenties a ten, a five, and five ones.

  “We’ll put our money together, and keep it right here while you do your thing,” the brunette said. “If you get a date or get his number you win. You strike out, I keep the money.”

  The blonde smiled, “Deal,” she said, “And bitch, you’re gonna lose.”

  “Maybe. It’s possible. We’ll see,” the brunette replied.

  The blonde stood and strolled over to the Navy SEAL. There was more than a little swagger to her gait. When he saw that she was approaching, he stopped the treadmill and pulled his earbuds out. He smiled and shook her hand. He grabbed his water bottle and took a long swig as she began to speak.

  From her vantage point, the brunette could see two of them talking but could not hear what was being said. The only noise she could hear over the steady hum of the treadmills, the clanking of free weights and general noise of the gym, was the occasional high-pitched laugh coming from the blonde, which was accompanied by a casual hair flip.

  She saw, but also could not hear, the man now speaking with her. The blonde stood by the front of the treadmill, bending over the display as if she was really interested in the treadmill settings. As she bent she squeezed her arms together pushing her breasts together, giving her prey a long look.

  Trying to close the deal, the brunette thought.

  The blonde stepped back onto the floor and continued to talk. Soon, the smile began to disappear from her face. After another three minutes of conversation she returned, carrying a look of rejection.

  “Well,” the brunette said, “let’s see that phone number.”

  “I don’t have one,” she admitted, reluctantly. “He blew me off.”

  She glanced back at the SEAL and turned back with a scowl on her face, “Dammit. Who does he think he is?”

  “Yeah, I wonder.” The brunette smiled, scooping up the money.

  “It was a pleasure doing business with you,” she said, toweling off.

  “You’re leaving?” the blonde said.

  “Yep,” came the reply. “I have a dinner date with my fiancée.” She held up the money, “This will help. Thank you.”

  “Screw you,” the blonde fired back.

  “Don’t get mad, sweetheart,” the brunette said, calmly. “I tried to tell you.”

  “This is just bullshit!” the blonde squawked. She raised and lowered her hands from her chest to her knees, drawing attention to her form. “I mean, he’s going to pass this up? Seriously?”

  The brunette chuckled and yelled out to Trevor “Bootstrap” Saunders, the name of the man who had been the subject of the blonde’s attention. He had just stopped the treadmill, “It’s time to go sweetheart! Dinner is on me.”

  Trevor removed his headphones and turned toward the brunette, “Give me two more minutes to cool down, Honor, and I’ll be right there.”

  The blonde’s mouth gaped open, her eyes widened and eyebrows raised. “He’s with you? Mr. Universe - that’s your fiancée?”

  The brunette, Honor Carpenter, continued to towel off, not bothering to look up, “That’s right. Mr. Tall, Tan and Hunkalicious is engaged to little old soft and fleshy me.”

  “You lied to me, you bitch!” she yelled.

  “How so?” Honor replied. Her tone reflected incredulity.

  “You said you had never seen him before.”

  Honor shook her head, “No, I certainly didn’t. You asked if I’d ever seen him here in the gym before. I said I hadn’t. I was truthful. He just got into town from deployment late last night. This is the first time he’d ever been in this gym before. Therefore, I’d never seen him here before today.”

  “That’s bullshit! You set me up,” she said.

  Honor shrugged, “I tried more than once to get you to forget it. This is on you, not me.”

  “You’re an asshole,” the blonde complained.

  “Is everything alright here?” Trevor asked, approaching the two women.

  “No, it isn’t.” the blonde said. “This cu… your girlfriend just ripped me off for a hundred bucks.”

  Trevor tilted his head, looking at Honor, “Is that true, sweetheart?”

  He slipped his arm around her waist and drew her into his body, planting a warm sweaty kiss on her lips. Honor felt every female eye in the gym on her. She smiled at the thought.

  “Well, is it true?” Trevor repeated.

  Honor shrugged.

  “It’s true alright,” the blonde insisted. “She bet me that I couldn’t get a date with you.”

  Trevor scratched his chin and nodded as he processed the information.

  “Well, you didn’t,” he said. “I don’t understand the problem.”

  “She didn’t tell me that you were her fiancée,” the blonde argued. “Not to mention that you were standing less than twenty feet away watching every move I made. That’s misleading.”

  Trevor shrugged and nodded, giving Honor a disapproving glance, “That’s kind of true, don’t you think, dear?”

  Honor rolled her eyes, sighing heavily. She reached into her bag, retrieving the hundred-dollar bill. She handed it to the blonde, “I wasn’t going to keep it, anyway,” she said.

  “Like hell,” the blonde spat back, snatching the bill from Honor’s hand. She scooped up her bag and threw it over her shoulder.

  “Keep your bitch on a leash, will you?” she scowled as she walked away.

  “Same time tomorrow?” Honor chimed back.

  The blonde did not turn around. She simply held up her right hand, giving Honor the finger as she walked away. She kicked over a towel cart before heading out the door, punctuating her displeasure.

  “Hmpf. That’s too bad,” Honor said with a faux tone of disappointment. “I thought she and I were making a connection.”

  Trevor chuckled. “You’re a character.”

  “I guess that means she and I won’t be out clubbing anytime soon,” she continued.

  “Did she really bet you a hundred bucks she could get a date with me?” Trevor asked.

  “She did,” Honor replied.

  “And you weren’t the least bit worried she’d succeed?” Trevor asked.

  Honor touched his face and leaned in, “No. I love you and I know you love me. I trust you completely.”

  Trevor shrugged and smiled. Honor slapped him on the behind, hard, “Plus I was twenty feet away and you knew it.”

  “Well, there’s that, too,” he said. “Let’s hit the showers and get going. We have a dinner date.”

  Twenty minutes later Honor and Trevor were sitting in his 1985 burnt orange Dodge Ram pickup, heading to Matts at the Market at Pike Place for dinner.

  Honor looked at him lovingly and smiled as they drove. His profile was magnificent. It had been nearly two years since they’d met by chance, under the direst of circumstances. Trevor and his friends, Matthew “Wolf” Steele and his wife, Caroline, had saved her from being kidnapped by Syrian terrorists, who intended to use her as a pawn to steal her father’s propulsion technology.

  Honor had been the victim of sexual abuse as a young teenager, and carried the scars with her to that day. She was withdrawn and socially awkward. To her would-be captors, she seemed like easy prey.

  She had been driving home from a road trip from Spokane to Seattle. She met Trevor, Wolf, and Caroline at a truck stop. The mutual attraction was instantaneous. Trevor’s strength of charact
er, caring personality and high-level compassion had drawn her to him and she never looked back. Over the last two years, her confidence had grown exponentially. Her relationship with Trevor had blossomed and she felt better and stronger than at any other time she could remember. They were now engaged. She was the happiest she’d ever been and was now ready to begin a new life with the man she loved.

  Matt’s in the Market was an exquisite little restaurant in the heart of Pike Place Market in Seattle. The dimly lit dining room provided a perfect backdrop for a romantic evening. Honor ordered the Confit Duck Leg with butternut squash and ganoush, while Trevor chose steamed mussels and clams. They shared a bottle of Duckhorn Napa Valley Merlot.

  During dinner Trevor reached over the table and began to stroke her hand. She squeezed his fingers.

  “Do you think we should discuss a date for the wedding?” he asked.

  She smiled but shook her head.

  “You have so much going on,” she said. “I thought we agreed to wait until things settled.”

  Trevor had inherited a long-since-closed lodge in Central Washington from his grandfather. The lodge was currently being renovated but while Trevor was still serving in the Navy, progress had been slow. He had considered the possibility of retirement, but in the end, with Honor’s encouragement, had re-upped for two more years of active duty. That commitment ended in six months. She worried herself sick every time he was deployed and she wanted nothing more than to have him all to herself, but Trevor Saunders was in the prime of his life and being a Navy SEAL was a huge part of who he was. She would never encourage him to leave. That would be a decision he would have to make on his own, if and when the time came. Until then, she would love him and support him in any manner.

  “I want to marry you and build a life with you,” he said.

  She felt herself melting, hearing those words coming from his lips, but she restrained herself, “I’m fine the way things are,” she said. “I’ve never been happier. I’m not going anywhere. Your lodge isn’t going anywhere. We can start whenever you feel the time is right. I love you, but I know you love what you do. I never want to take that from you.”