SEALs of Summer: Military Romance Superbundle - Navy SEAL Style

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SEALs of Summer: Military Romance Superbundle - Navy SEAL Style Page 86

by Sharon Hamilton


  She’d transcribed everything she’d heard on the phone during the attack on the Harmonds. She had translated the Spanish words into English and double-checked them with a Spanish interpreter in case she missed subtle nuances. She had high hopes she’d find clues as to what CRAF planned to do with the Harmonds. Disappointingly, the interpreter hadn’t turned up anything of value. The guerillas mostly barked commands for the Harmonds to “do as they were told” without following up with the usual made-for-television version of—“And no one will get hurt.” The worst of it came at the end—“Shut that boy up before I put a bullet in his head!” a gruff voice commanded before the line went dead.

  Jacob. Was he okay?

  If she let herself, she could still hear the gunshots and screaming. She squeezed her eyes tight. Focus on the notes. There might still be a clue she’d missed. Something other than the sight of a beaten and shot Andrew being dragged to an unmarked car.

  The same worries kept running through Jenna’s mind. If this was kidnapping for ransom, why hadn’t CRAF called in their demands? And would they keep the rest of the family alive if Andrew dies? Or had died. She had a horrible feeling she’d witnessed his brutal execution on the satellite feeds. Billionaire Andrew Harmond, the man who gave her fits by ignoring her plans and instructions, and reminded her so much of her own father, had better still be alive.

  His family needed him. And so did she.

  *

  It felt good to be planning a covert mission again. Mack lived for these moments—taking an impossible situation, planning for all possible scenarios, and making it work. He was good at it. He’d never lost a hostage. Men, yes, hostages no.

  The dead men haunted him and made him better at his job. He’d be damned if he’d lose another brave soul, another hero. He hadn’t lied to Jenna. These guys in the Knighthawk were the best of the best. The Handly brothers were screwballs and crazy, but shit, they knew their business.

  Ty Whitehorse was an Apache warrior. Mack had no doubts he would’ve been fighting alongside Geronimo in the Apache Wars had he lived in the late 1800s. The man was a great pilot and an ace tracker. He was also the only corpsman on the helo. Ty had been trained by an actual Apache medicine woman and had taken pre-med in college. He’d be perfect for this mission. Andrew Harmond needed medical treatment. Mack had seen that satellite video and agreed with Jenna—Andrew had more than one bullet in him.

  The Handly brothers and Ty Whitehorse all had Navy medals. They were heroes who would die for him, as he would for them. But there’d be no dying on this mission. Not on his watch.

  Tavon…Mack looked at the back side of the humongous head with the deepest respect…Tavon was the meanest SOB you’d never want to meet in a dark alley. He could rip a guy apart with his bare hands and not make a sound doing it. He was also the best friend Mack ever had. Tavon was also the main reason that he went out with the admiral’s daughter in the first place. Neither Tavon nor Jenna knew that little secret. He’d carry that sucker to his grave.

  Befriending Tavon Sting had been a challenge in itself.

  Mack had met Tavon during BUD/S, the most grueling underwater demolition training in the world, bar none. In those days, Mack hadn’t gotten too attached to the other trainees, because, hell, they’d been dropping like flies with their wings ripped off.

  He had basically ignored the black monster because he thought Tavon would fail the underwater portion of the training. No one could be that solid and float. Mack was smart enough to steer clear of a man big enough to swallow him whole.

  Then one day during an especially intense underwater exercise, Mack made a decision that slung his own ass in trouble. After a grueling exercise, he was bent at the waist trying to suck air to fill his depleted body with oxygen, when he realized Tavon was up. Damn, the big dude would never survive this test. He fully expected Tavon Sting to ring the brass bell and head home.

  It took four strong men to bind Tavon’s arms and legs and dump him in the deep end of the pool. As Mack had expected, the giant sunk like a rock. He was supposed to snake his body up to the top for air, propel himself through the water to one side of the pool, do a flip-turn and swim to the other side while bound. The exercise took a tremendous amount of strength and coordination. It also helped to not be a giant boulder. Tavon didn’t have a rat’s chance in hell.

  It was painful to watch. After several long seconds Tavon finally made it to the top. He sucked in a huge breath, coughing and sputtering and immediately sank again. He fought and somehow made it to the top, but he wasn’t moving forward and the clock was ticking. Soon he’d be out of time.

  “Come on, man.” Strangely, Mack wanted Tavon to make it.

  Tavon sputtered, his black head bobbing just above the surface like some messed up cork being yanked down by an anchor.

  “On your back!” Mack encouraged. “Catch your breath and move!”

  Like a freaking horror show Tavon wiggled through the water getting nowhere.

  “That’s it! Five feet to the wall!” Mack yelled. The other trainees’ eyes were on him. Why did he care so much? Tavon hadn’t made friends in the group and Mack wasn’t his buddy.

  By a miracle, Tavon hit the wall. When he flipped he must’ve gotten water up his nose because he struggled and coughed like a drowning man. No one moved.

  “Get going! Time’s running out.” Tavon kept going, hacking and roaring as he went. Mack followed along the edge of the pool. “Two minutes!”

  “He’s going to ring out,” someone said behind Mack. “Ten bucks says he doesn’t make it to the top this time.”

  More guys gathered around. “I bet twenty,” someone else said.

  Tavon thrashed underwater. Mack saw the fear in his big dark eyes. Raw panic had set in. He’d pass out in the next few seconds, meaning an automatic dismissal. No one could help him or risk being thrown out as well.

  “Dammit! He’s not coming up.” Mack didn’t wait a second longer. He dove in. It was no easy feat to bring the monster up to the surface, especially with him thrashing and fighting the whole way. Something hard and heavy—had to be Tavon’s elbow, though it felt like a sledgehammer—clipped Mack under the jaw, making him see stars. Tavon suddenly went limp. He’d passed out.

  Mack worked like a sonofabitch to drag the big man toward the surface. For a second he wondered if he’d have to be rescued too. Finally, he made it to the top and other strong arms pulled Tavon all the way out. They rolled him on his side and the big man puked a kiddie-pool worth of water. Mack took a long minute to catch his own breath before climbing onto the deck.

  When he got to his feet, something ginormous clocked him. Blinking through the stars, Tavon’s big face snarled down at him. “Thanks a lot, asshole! You got me disqualified.”

  “Riley!” the commander called. “Get your ass over here and give me twenty. After that you get to eat your lunch. In the surf.”

  He’d saved the dude’s life and now he was going to pay for it.

  “You will have the opportunity to repeat the exercise,” the commander promised Tavon. “Not your fault that Riley chose to be a hero.”

  Sitting in the cold Pacific Ocean, his teeth chattered as he ate his nasty lasagna MRE. Why’d he bother to save Tavon? Stupid. Next time, he’d let the boulder sink. He spit sand out of his mouth and a healthy portion of slimy cold lasagna. A dark shadow blocked out the sun pimpling his wet skin from the cold.

  “Why’d you do it?” Tavon snarled.

  Mack shrugged and took another bite of his crappy lunch. “Apparently, I’m an asshole.”

  Tavon plunked down next to him, splashing ocean water on his MRE. “I was drowning.”

  “No shit.”

  “Can you teach me so I pass next time?”

  “If you don’t hit me again. You’ve got a killer right cross.” He rubbed his sore jaw.

  Tavon laughed. It was the kind of sound that could pull together the slashed up parts in a man’s gut and make a guy feel…not so shitty. It
was then that Mack knew he’d made the right choice. He’d never let the boulder sink and maybe, just maybe, they’d both get out of BUD/S alive. They’d become best friends. They had each other’s backs. Mack eventually told Tavon the story of how the admiral’s daughter had ripped his world apart with her petite hands. He’d left out a few key parts the man didn’t need to know. Like how damned sexy Jenna was and some of the awe-inspiring things they’d discovered together in the bedroom. Most importantly, he hadn’t told him the real reason he’d met Jenna in the first place. No one needed to know that little detail. Especially not Tavon, or Jenna.

  Tavon listened silently and didn’t judge. Well, he hadn’t judged Mack.

  Now, on the helicopter, it was obvious by the missile glares he shot at Jenna that Tavon judged her. A lot. Would Tavon hate her so much if he knew that she’d saved his career? What would he say if he knew Mack had seduced Jenna just to get Big T’s ass out of the brig? Funny how that plan had backfired. Sure, Tavon was freed, but Mack was sentenced to a life of wanting a woman he couldn’t have.

  Sitting this close to her and not touching was painful. Maybe he’d boot Charlie out of his seat to be next to her. Damn, he wanted to touch her. All over. Why had he ordered her to keep her hands to herself? Those pretty fingers were busily scribbling in her notepad. What in the hell was the woman doing? He’d have to burn those notes so they didn’t fall into enemy hands. And now who was she texting? What was she being so sneaky about?

  “Earth to Mack,” Willy said.

  Mack looked up to see the guys all staring at him. “What?”

  “We’re landing in twenty minutes. Are we sure of the final coordinates?” Ty asked.

  “As sure as we’re going to be. We haven’t gotten any more calls from the kid. But the signal hasn’t moved.”

  “That’s a good thing, right? We told Jacob to hide the phone so that we could track him.” Jenna’s eyes were wide, scared.

  He grimaced. “Jacob might not have the phone anymore. Guerillas constantly move their captives through the mountains and jungle to make it harder for us to find them. Jacob may have been forced to leave the phone behind.”

  “But…you’re saying we could arrive too late. They might already have moved him.”

  “That’s pretty likely.”

  She growled her frustration. “This is insane!”

  “If we find an empty camp we won’t be too far behind them. Ty is the best tracker I know. We’ll find them.”

  “In time?”

  He raised his hand. “What do you want me to say, Jenna? If anyone can do this, we can. Willy, Charlie, you’re with me.” Mack moved to the windows. The Handly brothers followed suit. Tavon’s eyes were scanning from the front too.

  “What are you doing?” Jenna asked.

  “Nothing, Jenna. Just stay where you are,” Mack said.

  “Mack! Don’t keep me out of the loop. What are you looking for?”

  “Snipers. Missile launchers. Bad guys from either or both sides,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “Oh.” Jenna sunk back into her seat.

  He’d frightened her, but maybe she needed to be scared. This was no tea party. This was war.

  Chapter Six

  ‡

  Before they touched down, Jenna peeked out the window. Her heart sunk. The thick canopy of trees hid the ground from view. Finding the Harmonds without GPS would be impossible. With it? It might still be. She hoped Charlie was as good a recon Black Pirate as Mack said he was or this mission was doomed.

  “There’s the ravine,” Ty said. “I’m going to land in that grassy spot.”

  “Copy that,” Mack said.

  When the helicopter came to rest, Willy jumped out first, his automatic rifle leading the way. Charlie followed close behind with his weapon ready and so did Mack. Tavon went out the front. Jenna’s heart pounded as she waited.

  “All clear,” Charlie reported.

  She scrambled out after them, her eyes scanning the jungle. It was incredibly silent. No bird sounds, no insects, nothing. Weird. The last time she was in the Colombian jungle, the nature sounds were near-deafening.

  “Mack! Something’s not right.” She grabbed his arm.

  “Hold up.” He lifted his hand, causing the whole team to freeze in their tracks.

  Gunfire rang out from the jungle. Ty, the closest to the trees, would have been a dead man if he’d kept walking.

  Mack smashed her to the ground, his body heavy on hers. “Get down! Stay still.” He shot over her toward the trees. A man screamed in agony.

  Tavon was close by. “Oh two hundred! Three hostiles.”

  Mack followed his lead, and they both opened fire. The three men fell where they stood.

  “Oh nine hundred, behind the rock.” Willy lobbed a couple grenades. The explosion shook the ground beneath Jenna. “No more rock. Hostiles are toast.”

  “Big group of hostiles. Eleven hundred,” Ty yelled.

  Gunfight erupted. Jenna put her hands over her head and ducked down under Mack as low as she could. Her face pressed into the dirt.

  “More coming our way,” Charlie added.

  “Shit! Pull back.” Mack started to rise. “Jenna, stick with me!”

  Charlie army-crawled next to them. “Can’t pull back. They’re coming from behind. We’re boxed in.”

  “Who are they? CRAF or cartel?” Tavon asked.

  “Pickup trucks, not too organized. Locals, maybe,” Charlie said.

  “Shit, Charlie. Friend or foe?” Tavon roared.

  “Guess we’ll know when they start shooting,” Willy answered.

  She could feel the deep breath Mack exhaled. “Spread out, take ’em down. Eleven hundred first.”

  Rapid fire exploded Jenna’s world. Her ears screamed, her body trembled, and her limbs were impossibly weak, useless. The voice of terror screeched in her brain—Get up, run! But she wouldn’t. She’d stay here with Mack. Waiting for the burning bullets. Waiting for the end. At least she’d be with him as she died face down in the dirt.

  “They’re shooting at each other.” Tavon’s voice reached her through the chaos.

  “We’ve got friends!” Willy sang out.

  Jenna lifted up to see that men rushed from behind, their weapons blazing. Bullets zoomed over her head toward the enemy hiding in the bushes. So much for hoping for a hostage rescue without gunfire.

  “Stay down!” Mack hissed.

  Out of her peripheral vision, Jenna caught snatches of the new guys. They were in trouble. They didn’t have the body protection or weaponry that Mack’s team did. Without cover they were horribly exposed, but they kept coming, shooting as they ran. One by one, the men were cut down, sliced to bits. Screams of agony shot through her like a hot poker. She bit back the urge to scream with them.

  “Willy! The Special. Use it.” Mack ordered.

  “It’s not ready. But I’ve got something. It’s risky this close.”

  “Do it!” To Jenna, Mack said softly, “Open your mouth, babe. And hang on.”

  Open my mouth—?

  The explosion that came would have sent her flying if Mack wasn’t pinning her down. It felt like her heart hit her chest bone and her eyeballs shook in their sockets. Smoke choked out the air, making them all cough. She struggled to drag in a clean breath. Mack rolled off her, but continued to shield her from the enemy.

  “You all right?” His lips said, but she couldn’t hear his voice.

  “I’m deaf.”

  “It’ll pass. Your eardrums would’ve blown out if you hadn’t opened your mouth to stabilize the pressure.”

  She frowned, only catching Mack’s every other word.

  “All clear,” Charlie’s lips said. He followed the statement with his thumb up.

  “Whoo-ya, got those suckers,” Willy said, or something along those lines.

  Their smiles told her that the eleven o’clock enemy had gone the way of the rock that Willy had blown up—all disintegrated.

 
“We’re safe?” She asked, barely hearing her own voice.

  “Yes, babe.” Mack stood and pulled her to her feet. Ignoring the no touching rule, he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight. From that moment on, she’d like the smell of gunpowder and dirt. It would remind her of safety and life.

  The ringing in her ears started to ease back slowly. She picked up bits and snatches of conversation.

  Tavon’s deep voice came through more clearly than the others. “Who were those guys? Locals just happened to come by out here in the middle of nowhere?”

  Jenna didn’t answer. She had a very bad feeling that she knew the answer to his questions.

  Still holding her, Mack gave orders over her shoulder. “Willy, Charlie. Look for the hostages.”

  “No one survived the blast, Mack,” Willy said.

  “Maybe the hostages are hidden close by. Go.”

  Jenna’s gaze flowed toward the place where CRAF had been shooting at them. A crater was left behind scarring the earth black. There were no trees. No bodies. Oh, God, if the Harmonds had been tied up to one of those trees…

  “Ty, help the survivors,” Mack said.

  “On it.” Ty grabbed his medical supplies and ran toward the group that had been fighting with them. He checked pulses, searching for the living amongst the dead. “Got one!”

  Mack gave her a gentle squeeze. Streaks of sweat ran down his dirty cheeks. “Stay here.”

  Part of her agreed with him. She did not want to go over there. But she had to know.

  “I’m coming,” she said softly.

  “Of course you are.” He held out his hand and she gladly took it. She’d need his comfort now, more than ever.

  Tavon checked bodies, shaking his head as he moved on to the next body, and the next.

  Ty knelt down and pressed his cravat to the wounded man’s neck. Blood seeped out of the bullet hole, turning the tan cloth sanguine. The poor man had been shot at least three times. The top of his head was missing. His pale lips moved silently. But the face, that strangely pale face, was so familiar.

 

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