SEAL Warriors

by Katie Knight

  “Oh.” Sam shoved a handful of diapers into a pocket inside the diaper bag with more force than was necessary. The tension was so thick in the room it was stifling. She wished the easy banter between them would return, but knew that after last night, that was probably impossible. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from trying to explain. “Listen, Jack. About last night…”

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine. You’re right. We need to keep our heads in the game here and not let our emotions get involved. This is temporary. You’ll be leaving soon and I’ll be back to my farm and life will get back to normal. It’s all good.” His tone said the exact opposite and Sam winced. He quit futzing with the bags and strode back over toward the door, his expression bleak. Their daughter squeaked, as if trying to draw his attention, but he didn’t so much as glance at her. “I’m going to patrol the area again and call Zeke back to see what’s happening at the marshals’ office. Stay inside and lock the door behind me.”

  He walked out without another word to her or Glory.

  She finished putting away their new supplies, then walked over to bolt the door behind Jack.

  Sam leaned her forehead against the cool metal, her heart aching for all they could have had together and all that they’d most likely lost. It might be better this way, but it hurt like hell.

  19

  As Jack circled the perimeter of the motel for the third time, he couldn’t stop beating himself up inside. Things were complicated enough in this situation without him allowing his emotions to get involved. That was rule number one in the SEALs—stay cool, stay calm, stay detached and rational.

  Of course, his well-honed skills had gone right out the window the minute he’d spotted Sam on that old country highway. Man, he was such an idiot.

  A stupid, besotted fool.

  He kicked a pebble across the cracked pavement of the parking lot and cursed under his breath. He’d known better than to let Sam into his heart and his life, then he’d went right ahead and done it anyway. And as for keeping Glory out of his heart… Well, forget about it. He’d loved that kid from the second he’d seen her. Knowing that he’d created a child, that a part of him would live on well after he was dead and buried—that touched him deep in his soul.

  But Sam was right. She was safer with the marshals. The honorable, true marshals. Not those traitorous bastards who’d fallen under the influence of her gangster father. Which made contacting Zeke even more important. It had been several hours since he’d talked to the guy that morning. They had to have some sort of plan in place by now.

  Jack headed back to the motel room and started to call Zeke’s number, only to have the landline phone on the table beside him start to ring. Huh. That was weird. He stared at the receiver as a niggle of dread bored into his gut and his instincts went on high alert.

  Chest constricted, he answered. “Hello?”

  “Mr. Williams, this is Deputy Marshal Turner with the U.S. Marshal’s office. I work with your buddy, Zeke. He asked me to give you a call back about the precious cargo you’re carrying.”

  Precious cargo? Okay. Yeah. Whoever the hell this guy was, he was definitely not friends with Zeke. Zeke was the biggest smartass Jack knew, and back when they’d been in the SEALs together, they’d always made fun of all the cheesy lines and lingo from the action movies they watched on base during their missions. No one who was actually close to Zeke would call Sam and Glory precious cargo. Plus, if he was really connected to Zeke, wouldn’t he have called Jack’s cell phone instead of the room? Come to think of it, how had he known what room to call? Jack had told Zeke what motel they were in, but he hadn’t mentioned the room number.

  If this was another one of the bastards on her dad’s payroll, that meant they knew exactly where they were. But it sounded like their plan was to get Jack to hand Sam and Glory over willingly, believing it was a legitimate transfer. If that’s what they were going for, then there was still a chance to turn this around, set a trap. Best way he could think of to do that at present was to go along with whatever this Hans Gruber-wannabe said.

  “Yeah, your precious cargo’s safe with me,” Jack said, managing not to cringe, barely. “What’s the plan for transfer?”

  “You sound eager to get rid of her?” the agent said.

  “You have no idea.” He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat at the thought of Sam and his daughter walking out of his life forever. Best to let these guys think he had no vested interest in the situation, no matter how much he really did. “She’s been a real pain in my ass, dude. I just want to hand off her and that baby so I can get back to my normal life.”

  A few seconds ticked by before Agent Turner said, “Good. Give me an hour to get a team in place, then we’ll be there to grab them. You’re at the Moonlight Inn, off Route 8, yes?”

  “Yes. What time?”

  “Let’s say two o’clock at the gas station across the street. More people, less suspicious.”

  “Fine.” Jack ended the call without saying goodbye. Shit. He checked his watch and saw it was a bit past noon. Zeke better have come up with a plan. He walked back out to the parking lot. He needed to pace to clear his head and get his focus back, and the room was just too damn small. Sam gave him a flat stare, but didn’t say anything. It took all Jack’s willpower not to coo and cuddle Glory on his way back out the door. But touching her and playing with her and smelling her good baby smell now would only make the handoff later that much more difficult.

  Once he was alone again, he pulled out the burner phone he’d bought and dialed in Zeke’s private cell number.

  “Jack?” Zeke’s voice sounded concerned. “What’s going on?”

  “I just got a call from another crooked agent in your office, that’s what’s up.” Jack stared at the busy two-lane highway in the distance. “Some asshole named Turner who thinks he’s going to take over Nakatomi Plaza or something.”

  Zeke snorted at the Die Hard reference. “What the hell? We don’t have a Turner in this office. He called your cell?”

  “No, he called the motel room’s phone.”

  “Shit. So they already know where you are. Any idea how they tracked you?”

  “The SUV’s pretty shot up—maybe someone spotted it. Listen, the important thing is that he thinks I bought his story. He’s planning to meet me, Sam, and Glory at the gas station across the street at two o’clock. That gives us enough time to set up a sting.”

  “You mean enough time for me to set up a sting,” Zeke corrected. “I’ve assembled a small group of trusted colleagues. We’ll be ready.”

  “I want to be in on it,” Jack said. “I want to get these guys.”

  Actually, he wanted to drop them off a skyscraper the same way John McClane had with Hans.

  Yippie Ki Yay indeed.

  “Sorry, man, but we think it’s better if you sit this one out.”

  “Hell, no!” Jack scowled and turned to face the motel. He’d take a bullet for Sam and Glory. No doubt about it. No way would he sit this one out. He couldn’t. Sure, his physical condition might not be what it’d once been, but he was more than capable of holding his own in a fight. Wasn’t he? A new sinking feeling dropped like a grenade in his gut. “You don’t think I’m up for the task?”

  “What? No.” Zeke lowered his voice. “If I had my choice of anyone to have my back, I’d pick you, dude. You know that. It’s just that you’re technically civilian now and our policy is to keep civilian involvement to a minimum.”

  “Screw your policies.” Jack took a deep breath to relieve the tension bubbling inside him like hot lava ready to explode. “I’ll never be a regular civilian and you know it. Once a SEAL always a SEAL.” Never mind that his arm still ached like a son of a bitch from the bullet grazing it yesterday and his muscles were still sore and bruised. He’d find a way to deal with it. He’d always find a way where Sam and Glory were concerned. “Besides, your traitor agent is expecting me to do the handoff. I have to be there.”

 
; “Dammit. Hang on.” Muffled sounds echoed over the phone line as Zeke conferred with his colleagues, then got back on the line. “What else can you tell me about the guy you talked to? Any distinguishing features about him? An accent? Speech ticks? Anything odd you noticed that might help us identify him?”

  “Nah, man. Not really. Other than the bad action movie references, there was nothing.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He called Sam and the baby ‘precious cargo’,” Jack said, scrunching his nose in disgust. “It was creepy, dude.”

  A beat or two passed before Zeke responded. “You know what? That actually might help. There’s a new guy who transferred in from Chicago not long ago and he’s an action movie buff.”

  “Sam’s family is from Chicago.” For the first time in recent memory, Jack’s outlook brightened. “You think it might be him?”

  “Sounds likely.” Zeke said something to someone offline, then came back to Jack. “Okay. So, you plan on keeping that two o’clock meeting and we’ll work behind the scenes here to round up these bad agents. If all goes well, I’ll meet you at two and take Sam and her daughter into custody. Fingers crossed this will all be over soon, dude.”

  Jack ended the call, his feelings an odd mix of anticipation and dread. He’d be glad to have a few more crooked agents from the marshals’ office off the table and hoped Zeke and his team would round them up. But the fact that, in just a few short hours, Sam and Glory would be out of his life forever left a gaping hole in his chest where his heart used to be.

  Weird how in just a few short days his universe could change so drastically. Despite his resolve to the contrary, Jack had fallen for Sam heart and soul. But if saving her meant giving her up, then he’d do so, even if it cost him everything in the process.

  20

  “Okay, it’s almost time. Are you ready?”

  Jack’s question reverberated inside Sam’s head like a distant gong. Through the rush of blood in her ears and the nervous adrenaline sizzling through her system, she tried to get her jumbled thoughts in order. She gave a small nod. “Yes.”

  “Good. Sit tight here and keep an eye out. If things go south, I’ll give you the signal.” He reached back to take Glory’s tiny hand in his and blow her a kiss, then looked back at Sam. In his eyes she saw a reflection of her own inner turmoil—need, fear, concern, desperation. His expression, though, was pure determination. Jack started to lean in toward her and, for a moment, Sam thought he was going to kiss her. Her pulse quickened and her breath caught, lips parting in anticipation, despite knowing how much it would hurt to let this man go. This was quite possibly their last private moment together before she went back into witness protection. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she needed to tell him, but in the end, the lump in her throat prevented her from saying a word. At the last second, Jack pulled back and exhaled slowly, his gaze flicking from her eyes to her mouth then back again, his lips compressed into a tight white line as he turned away and climbed out of the vehicle. The slamming of the door behind him jarred her back to reality.

  As Sam stared at Jack’s back as he walked away from the beat-up SUV, she did her best to concentrate on the instructions he’d given her, doing her best to stay calm for Glory’s sake. The baby, at least, seemed unfazed by it all, happily playing with her toys in her car seat in the back. Sam took a deep breath and stared at the glove compartment in front of her. That’s where Jack had stashed the extra handgun and ammo he kept in the truck for emergencies. There was also enough cash in there to last her at least a week, if she was frugal.

  After he’d returned to the hotel room, he’d told her about his conversation with his buddy at the marshals’ office, and how they were planning to set up the rogue agent who had called the room. The plan was to let the bad guys think they were going to get their hands on Sam and Glory, but at the final moment, Jack’s friend Zeke and the marshals would swoop in and save the day. Sam wanted to have faith the whole thing would work, but she was also too familiar with her father.

  He wouldn’t give up until she and Glory were back under his control, scared silent. Or dead.

  Jack had parked the SUV near the corner of the lot on which the gas station sat, near enough to a busy street that he’d said should deter the rogue agent and his men from doing anything rash, like opening fire on the vehicle.

  The thought of bullets flying yet again anywhere near her precious daughter made Sam want to throw up. Poor Glory had already been put in far more danger than Sam had ever imagined because of her wicked father’s actions. If anything happened to her baby now because of him, she wasn’t sure she’d survive it.

  Swallowing hard against the burn of hot bile in her throat, Sam squared her shoulders and forced herself to remain alert to the area surrounding them so she could spot any potential threats that might be incoming. Jack had done all he could to ensure Sam and Glory could escape if the plan with his friend fell through. He’d taped plastic over the shattered windows, gassed up the SUV, even taken out the monetary maximum of cash at the ATM. She held the keys in her sweaty palm, the metal digging into her skin, a reminder of what she must do if needed.

  She’d walked away from her life before, fifteen months ago when she entered witness protection for the first time. But this time was so much harder. Because of Jack.

  Just when sadness threated to overtake her again, a nondescript black sedan pulled into the gas station lot. The car was identical to the one Sam and Glory had been riding in that first night at the rest stop, the night one agent had turned on the other and she’d fled for her life. Other than a few patrons at the pumps, there was no sign of any other government vehicles or Jack’s friend, Zeke. Just a tall guy in a baseball hat filling the tank of his pickup and a woman in a red hoodie doing the same with her minivan.

  Sam unbuckled her seat belt and slid down to crouch on the floor, slowly scooting over so she was on the driver’s side of the vehicle. She hazarded a glance back at Glory, who was still gurgling and cooing as she sucked on her plastic keys, and Sam said a silent prayer for her child’s safety.

  Careful to stay down as much as possible, Sam inched higher to peer out through the window and spotted two men in black suits walking toward Jack, who waited near the far side of the lot, away from the building, near an air pump. They were far enough away that she couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she saw Jack point toward the SUV and the two men in black turned slightly to glance in her direction. Her stomach cramped painfully and she ducked down again to avoid being seen.

  Her pulse jackhammered loudly in her ears and she closed her eyes, running through the actions she’d need to take if things went south—get behind the wheel, get the SUV started, get the hell out of there as fast as possible. Jack had said he’d provide her with all the cover he could during her escape. Said he’d face the devil himself to keep her and Glory safe.

  Voices grew louder as someone approached the SUV. Sam gripped the keys in her hand so tightly she thought they might slice her skin. She could pick out Jack’s even tone, and another man, unfamiliar. She assumed it was one of the rogue agents.

  “She’s safe, man,” Jack said. “I just want her off my hands. Too much trouble.”

  Sam’s heart clenched at the words. Even though she knew it was part of the plan, they still stung. Her father always said the truth hurt, and in this case, it was certainly true. She and little Glory were too much trouble for Jack. They’d disrupted everything in his life, brought violence right to his doorstep when he’d obviously worked hard to leave all that behind after the SEALs. Their leaving would be the best for everyone involved.

  Knowing that didn’t make the doing any easier.

  “We need to see them, to verify their identities, then transfer them to the other car,” the agent said.

  She wondered which boss the guy was referring too, the marshals or her father.

  “Trust me, they’re in there. The baby’s sleeping. You don’t want to wake her, do
you?” Jack said, his voice tight with tension. “I’ve got no reason to lie to you, man.”

  “Pardon me if I disagree, Mr. Williams,” the agent said. The words were followed by the sinister snick of a gun being cocked. Sam’s eyes widened and her heart lodged in her throat. “Open the vehicle and let us see them and we can end this all without a fuss. Nice and amicable. You can be on your way and we’ll be on ours.”

  “Hey, there’s no reason for that,” Jack said, his plaid-shirt covered torso now darkening the window above her. “I’m here, aren’t I? I brought them to you just like I said. We’re all on the same side, aren’t we? Put the gun away.”

  “You don’t make the rules, Williams,” the second agent said. “Now move, before we move you.”

  Trembling, Sam prepared to slide up behind the wheel just as Glory gave a loud squeak. Oh God.

  “Is that the baby?” the first agent asked. “Open the door, Williams. Now!”

  Where were the marshals? Jack’s friend?

  Didn’t matter. Sam had spent most of her life depending on no one but herself, and now was no different. Her life and little Glory’s future depended on getting out of there and getting to safety. She wouldn’t fail because she couldn’t fail.

  With a deep breath for courage, Sam eased up toward the driver’s seat, only to crouch back down quickly when gunfire erupted. Maybe the smart thing to do would be to get behind the wheel and start driving…but Jack’s plan went right out the window in the face of her daughter coming to imminent harm. Acting on pure instinct, she scrambled back toward her baby and unfastened the straps holding Glory in her car seat. She shielded the baby with her body as bullets pinged off the SUV and shouts filled the air. Time seemed to slow, though the whole altercation couldn’t have taken more than a few seconds. Glory wailed against her chest, unhurt but unsettled just the same. Sam knew how she felt. She’d never been shot at more in her life than she had over the past few days. Eyes squeezed shut, Sam and Glory huddled in the rear of the SUV. She prayed Jack would be okay, prayed the other agents would arrive and save the day, prayed her father wouldn’t find them again.