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

by Jesse Jacobson

  “I love you too,” he said. “And I love that you never pressure me. I just want to keep moving in the right direction. I know your dad is a little old school. I can see the look in his eyes.”

  Honor laughed softly, stroking his hand, “I’m sure you can handle my dad. After you saved me two years ago, you built enough equity with him to last a lifetime. He loves you like a son. Nothing will change that.”

  “I just want you to know, it’s not all about me,” he replied. “I want you to follow your dream, too.”

  “I began to follow my dream the day I met you,” she said. “We have our entire lives ahead of us. When you’re ready, we’ll finish remodeling the lodge and we’ll run it together.”

  “If you’re sure,” he said.

  “I am,” she said. She paused for a moment, taking him in; his face, his eyes. Finally, she spoke again, “Trevor, do you ever have any regrets? Second thoughts?”

  A look of surprise formed on his face, “What? Are you serious? Of course not. Why would you say something like that?”

  “It’s just… the way you met me…” she began. “Having to save me the way you did. And then there was my whole history. I had such severe problems then.”

  “Those problems are a thing of the past,” he said. “Your progress has been amazing. Your doctor, your father… everyone thinks so. Honestly, I don’t know why you even keep going to your therapy sessions. You’re perfect the way you are.”

  She smiled and sat back, releasing his hand for the first time since they’d sat, “It’s hard to explain,” she said. “It’s like alcoholics who go to AA. Even though they are not drinking anymore, they know they can regress at any time. I feel the same. I feel so much better, so much more confident, but even so, I feel like I could slip at any time.”

  “I’m never gonna let that happen,” he said.

  “I know you would do anything for me,” she said, “but sometimes things are out of our control.”

  “Even if something did happen, I would be by your side and we would work it through together. I’ll never leave you.”

  She smiled. Her eyes were moistening.

  “That sounds wonderful,” she said.

  “You know what else sounds wonderful?” he replied.

  She smiled, knowing what was coming, but wanted to hear it anyway.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Another bottle of wine and the hot tub,” he said. “I want you naked and wet.”

  “Mmm, sounds delicious,” she said. “Whatever would you do with me?”

  “Come with me and find out.”

  Trevor paid the bill and they left the restaurant, hand in hand. At the truck, he opened the door for her. When she sat, he leaned over her, pulling the seat belt over her chest and snapping it into place. He gave her a long, deep kiss. Her tongue entered his mouth and he moaned. Her right hand slid up his shirt and she caressed his chest. The feel of his skin made her tingle.

  “Maybe we should go,” she said. “Otherwise I’m going to ravage you right here and now.”

  “Would that be so bad?” he asked.

  “Not unless we ended up in jail,” she replied.

  He smiled and closed the door. Twenty minutes later they were home. Honor lived in a small one-bedroom apartment near Seattle Center, close to the Space Needle. It was simple and small. It’s one extravagant feature was an oversized soaking tub with jets. They had made love in that tub many times.

  Trevor opened a second bottle of wine, 14 Hands, Red Blend. It was not nearly as extravagant as the Duckhorn but they were, after all, still on a budget. In the bathroom, he dimmed the lights. A single candle was lit on a small stand near the tub. Ambient light from the city filtered in through the sheer curtains on the windows. The water was comfortably warm. The buzz from the wine, along with the sound and water pressure from the jets in the tub, relaxed her. In the tub, Honor straddled him, kissing his mouth, face and neck.

  She ran her fingers across his broad shoulders and then over his rock-hard pectorals. She moved her hips slowly as she lathered her hands and breasts with soap. She ran her hands all over his chest and shoulders and then leaned in, allowing her breasts to rub against him as she moved.

  Trevor took a sip of his wine and planted slow kisses on her neck, cheek and ear. He sat the wine glass down and picked up the bar of soap, applying a generous amount to his hands. He gave her a deep kiss and cupped both her breasts with his soapy hands, fondling her gently, rolling his thumbs over her nipples.

  “You know that drives me wild?’ she said, raising and lowering herself on him slowly.

  “Me too,” he said.

  They made love in the tub. Honor came first, Trevor a moment later.

  Twenty minutes later Trevor and Honor were in bed, naked still, holding each other tightly.

  “Honor, I’m so proud of you,” he said. “The progress you’ve made is incredible. You are not that same shy, timid girl I met two years ago.”

  “You’re a big part of that,” she said. “You and my therapist, and my dad. All of you supported me through the tough times.”

  “But you did it,” he insisted. “You stuck with it. I’ve never seen anyone work so hard at something as you have. And it’s paid off. It’s amazing really. Your self-confidence is truly astounding.”

  She smiled, using her fingertips to glide up and down his chest.

  “What are you doing tomorrow?’ he asked. “I only have nine more days before I have to report for duty again in San Diego. I want to make them all count.”

  “I know,” she said, “Tomorrow is Sunday. I’m off. We can spend the day together, but I can’t miss my therapy session Monday morning. It’s the one non-negotiable. I do it every Monday morning at 8:00 a.m. like clock-work. I’ll be back by 9:30.”

  “I understand,” he said. “I’ll miss you.”

  She slipped her hand under the covers. She felt him stiffen. “I’ll make it up to you,” she said.

  He pulled her into him, “Now you’re talking,” he said.

  Chapter 2

  Trevor woke to the sound of the horn from a semi-truck that had been speeding by the building. He looked at the clock; 8:36 a.m. It was highly unusual for him to sleep so late, but when he was on leave he tended to unwind, relax, and decompress. Part of that process was to allow himself the luxury of sleeping in a little.

  Dressed in only his tidy whites, he opened the bathroom door. A rush of steam fogged his vision for a few seconds. When his eyes cleared, he saw Honor through the glass shower stall, allowing the warm water to soak her hair. He watched her as she ran a soapy washcloth up and down her arms across her belly and over her breasts. He craned his neck for a better view as she bent to soap her legs.

  “Are you going to just stand there, or are you coming in to wash my back?” she said without looking.

  “How did you know I was here?” he asked.

  She looked at him and smiled, “I have a sixth sense when it comes to you.”

  Trevor returned the smile, slipped out of his underwear and stepped into the shower. Honor greeted him with a warm kiss, wrapping her arms around him. He took the soap from her and lathered his hands. She turned her back to him. He ran his soapy hands down the length of her back and began to caress her buttocks.

  “Hey,” she called out. “I asked you to wash my back.”

  “Oh, sorry,” he replied. “My mistake.”

  Honor chuckled loudly. She turned to face him, again wrapping her arms around him, her hands caressing his waist and back. He kissed her. Honor returned the kiss, allowing his tongue to enter her mouth. The kiss caused her emotions to stir and her hands moved to the front of his hard stomach and traveled south. She smiled when she discovered he was fully perked.

  An hour later they arrived at Seattle’s famous Pike Place Market, at a restaurant called Honest Biscuits. Trevor had a biscuit sandwich with Bavarian bacon. Honor had one with Beecher’s Flagship Cheese.

  They casually strolled down
the market where they saw the very first Starbucks ever built. They continued the market exploration and were treated to men tossing fish. Trevor didn’t quite understand why fish tossing was such an attraction in Seattle, and when he asked Honor about it, she just smiled and called him a foreigner.

  They watched talented street artists creating beautiful paintings before their eyes, and incredible street musicians performing jazz, bluegrass, and American roots music.

  Trevor and Honor strolled the market, hand in hand, stopping casually at virtually every chalet and shop.

  Somewhere around 1:00 p.m. Trevor began to get an odd feeling. He felt as though he and Honor were being watched. He stole quick looks behind him and to the sides. For the most part he saw nothing unusual, but for a split second, he thought he spied a man looking at him, a man he may have seen earlier that same morning.

  Honor was fully occupied, enjoying music from a street musician who was dressed like Bob Dylan in his Nashville Skyline days, playing “Tangled Up in Blue.”

  Trevor looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of the man he thought might be watching them. He saw nothing. He tried his best to shake off the feeling but couldn’t. Honor was still smiling, still captivated by the street performer. Trevor stepped back from the crowd and called his Commanding Officer, Commander Hurt. The Commander had been deeply involved in gathering intelligence on the men who had tried to kidnap Honor two years earlier.

  Hurt answered on the third ring.

  “Commander,” he greeted.

  “Bootstrap!” Hurt replied. “Don’t you have anything better to do while you’re on leave than to call me?”

  “Yes sir,” he replied. “I mean, the reason for my call is to ask a question.”

  “Fire away.”

  “The group that tried to kidnap Honor two years ago--- have any of them resurfaced lately?”

  “No.” Hurt said. “Why do you ask? Have you seen something?”

  “Not really,” Trevor replied. “I thought just maybe, but… no, not really. I’ve just had this funny feeling all day, like I’m being watched.”

  “You’re one of the best I know at catching someone who might be following you,” Hurt said. “I have a feeling if you were being followed, you’d know.”

  “Well, I thought I saw someone, but I don’t know for sure. He disappeared.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Pike Place Market, in Seattle,” he replied.

  “Boot, that’s the biggest tourist attraction in that area,” he replied. “People spend days there. Running into the same person every few hours would be common. Are you certain you were being watched?”

  “No,” Trevor admitted. “I’m not sure at all. In fact, I’m wondering if I’m being paranoid. If the man I saw was watching me, he was damn good at it.”

  “The only man who played any part in that kidnapping attempt who is left is Ahmet Orfali,” Hurt said. “When the kidnapping attempt was looped back to the Syrian government, they denied everything and exiled Orfali.”

  “Could Orfali be working on his own?”

  “He’s been on our watch list ever since the Syrian government got rid of him. He’s made many enemies. He’s been on his own and running, looking over his shoulder. We are not the only ones watching him, either. England, France, Israel… lots more. He’s been in hiding out in Turkey, mostly, but recently, he’s been reported to be in North Korea.”

  “North Korea?” Trevor said. “Why the hell would Orfali be working for the North Koreans?”

  “We are not certain he is,” the Commander responded. “It could be they are giving him asylum there. It seems like an unlikely marriage.”

  “I’ll say.”

  “But none of this connects to Chris Carpenter or you or Honor,” he continued. “Orfali is certainly a busy man, undoubtedly weaving some tangled ugliness somewhere, but none of it points your way.”

  “Does anyone know where he is right now?”

  “No, but I wouldn’t worry,” Hurt said. “The Syrian government was all over themselves denying involvement in that kidnapping attempt. They would not be stupid enough to try it again. Without their resources, even if Orfali wanted to reach you or Honor in the States, he would not have the finances and backing to pull off such an endeavor.”

  “Yeah,” he replied. “You’re right.”

  “Think about it, Boot,” Hurt continued. “You’re away from Honor for months at a time on deployment. The FBI ceased even the most casual surveillance months ago. If someone wanted to snatch her, why would they wait until you were with her? Wouldn’t he have done it before you got to Seattle?”

  The Commander had a good point, Trevor had to admit. Trevor had been over-protective of Honor since they’d met. He was becoming paranoid, looking for danger where none existed. It had been two years since the kidnapping attempt. Orfali had been expelled. Nothing had happened since.

  “You’re right, sir,” he said. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”

  “It’s not a problem,” Hurt said. “But you shouldn’t worry, Boot. There hasn’t been any underground buzz, no activity at all around Orfali. Relax, enjoy yourself. I’ll see you in nine days.”

  Trevor went back to enjoy the rest of the day with Honor. He did not sense he was being watched or followed for the remainder of the day. He chose not to mention any of his earlier feelings to Honor. He believed the feelings to be unfounded and didn’t want to worry her needlessly.

  To her credit, Honor sensed all was not right with her man. After making love for the second time that day, she collapsed in his arms. He fell silent.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he lied. She sat up, glaring at him. His body was still moist from the perspiration generated from sex. Light from the fading sunset caught the dampness of his shoulders and pectorals, and caused them to glisten softly.

  “It’s not you,” he insisted.

  “I didn’t think it was,” she said. “Still, I know something is bothering you. Why can’t you just tell me?”

  “It’s just work-related stuff,” he lied again.

  “Trevor, I’m your fiancée,” she said. “I’m the one you will ride off into the sunset with. I know you want to protect me from everything in the world that’s bad, but I’m strong now. You’ve always been there for me. I want to be there for you, too. Let me in.”

  He looked at this amazing woman again, and almost blurted out his initial suspicions. He again chose to hold back. Anything he said now would cause her to worry, for herself and for her father. It would put her on alert needlessly. He would be gone in just over a week, back to active duty. She didn’t need to feel afraid again, especially if there was nothing to fear.

  “It’s classified,” Trevor said, lying again for the third time to the woman he loved so much. “My next mission is worrisome, not because of the danger, mind you. It just involves situations that trouble me.”

  “Are women and children in danger?” she asked. “I know how protecting children in danger affects you.”

  Trevor bit his lip, choosing to say nothing and allowing her to believe this was the case. He knew his silence implied yet another lie, but he wanted nothing more than to move the conversation along.

  “Yeah, it’s something like that, isn’t it?” she continued. “Trevor, I’m so sorry. The people you will save have no idea how lucky they will be to have you on their side.”

  He nodded slowly, hating himself for his inability to manage the situation truthfully.

  Satisfied, Honor lay beside him again. He wrapped his powerful arm around her. She felt comforted. Within five minutes she began to breathe deeply, falling asleep in his arms. Trevor remained awake for another half hour before falling asleep himself.

  Chapter 3

  Ahmet Orfali stared out of the window of his hotel suite, enjoying the view of the Space Needle, the Experience Music Project, and the Seattle skyline at sunset. He smiled.

  He glanced to his right. He c
ould see Honor Carpenter’s window from his position. He could hear her conversations anytime he wanted. His team had bugged her apartment three weeks earlier. She would have been so easy to capture, it was hard to resist. But the time wasn’t right, then.

  Orfali was devoted to Islam and its teachings. He recited passages from the Holy Qura’n every day. He carried with him the message of Allah in the words of the Prophet Sallallahu Alaihi Wassalam. He received his formal education at Damascus University, where he met his mentor, a man of importance in ISIS, one who taught him why western culture needed to be destroyed to preserve the purity of his people’s souls.

  At 45, he had many years left to fulfill his destiny, but he could ill-afford to waste time. He ran his fingers through his short, dense graying beard. His hair was curly, short and course, receding on the corners.

  He had been unable to accept the way his government treated him after his first attempt to kidnap Honor Carpenter ended in disaster. He had nearly lost his job, and his life, over the failure. The appearance of the two Navy SEALS was by pure happenstance. No one could have predicted it. He had lost his brother in the melee.

  His government expected total success and had no patience for excuses. He used all of his powers of persuasion to earn this second chance. He needed his government for now. He needed their resources. However, once this mission was complete, he would have resources of his own. He wouldn’t need anyone.

  He hated America. He hated its wretched excessiveness, its godlessness, its rampant promiscuity, its overfed, overindulged, self-important citizens. What he did like, however, was the Jimi Hendrix Museum.

  “Asu!” he called out to his second in command. “Report.”

  Asu stood and approached Orfali. Asu was born and raised in Syria, recruited by ISIS at an early age. He was 34 years old, 6-foot-2 with deep black moppy curls and a full black beard.

  “Everything is in a state of readiness,” he answered in Arabic. “The girl and the SEAL are back in her apartment. They had casual conversation. They had sex.”

  “Again?” Orfali interjected, also in Arabic. “Did any part of their conversation lead you to believe they suspected anything?”