SEAL Warriors

by Katie Knight

  “I’ll do what I can, bro.” Tim rubbed the back of his neck. “The brass is hell-bent on getting justice for the captain though. They need blood.”

  “I’ll be sure to give them Monty’s then.” He’d been itching to flay the guy anyway after seeing the scumbag in action the other night. “You have my word.”

  “Then you have ours, Chief Petty Officer Daniels.” Agent Thompson extended his hand.

  “Let’s get planning then,” Trevor said, shaking on it.

  A few hours later, he was on his way home, his head swimming with information for the operation ahead. As he slowed for a red light, his thoughts snagged.

  Home.

  Funny how he’d come to think of Maria’s place that way so quickly. Guess that’s what love did to a guy. God, last night had been amazing. She was so giving, so yielding, so warm and sweet, satisfying him in a way no other woman had. He’d even said those three little words. He’d meant them too, even if nothing could ever come of it. And when she’d told him she loved him first?

  Well, his heart had shattered in that instant. All the broken pieces drifting over to her, never to return again. She’d hold them dear, he knew that, even if she might never hold him—the man—again.

  He had unfinished business to deal with in the form of John Montgomery. Until that was put to rest, he wouldn’t be able to walk away from it all and start a new life, with Maria and Camille or anyone else.

  Now though, he needed to shove all those feelings and dreams and desires down deep, if he was going to get through the next day and a half. The plan was for him to make up some credible excuse, any excuse, to move out of Maria’s place and into an apartment Tim had rented for him. The place was monitored to within an inch of its life and it was from that apartment he was to contact Monty and set up the meeting for the following afternoon. If things went to plan, the smuggler would show up, demand to see the files Trevor had on the flash drive, then the MPs and FBI agents would raid the building and take Monty into custody.

  And if things didn’t go to plan….

  Trevor sighed and accelerated once the light turned green. He’d made sure he had contingencies in place if he didn’t make it out. That’s where he’d stopped before heading back to Maria’s—to talk to the attorney his parents had used during his dad’s trial. He was able to draft up a fast will for Trevor, ensuring that his military death benefits would go into a trust for Camille, with Maria as the executor. Until today, he’d never really thought much about his own mortality. He’d never had a reason to. Now he did. Two of them, in fact.

  A few minutes later, he pulled into the driveway in front of Maria’s house and cut the engine. He’d thought long and hard about what he’d say to Maria about leaving. In the end, he’d decided that partial truth was better than an outright lie.

  One deep breath for courage, then he was out of the vehicle and jogging up the steps to the porch, walking in to find Maria on the floor playing with Camille, who was doing a pretty good job of sitting up in her prop-up pillow. The air smelled of delicious roasted meat and potatoes, warm cookies and freshly made rolls. This felt like a real home. His home.

  His heart clogged in his chest.

  This was going to be so much harder than he thought, but he couldn’t tell her the whole truth. Agent Thompson had been adamant. No civilian involvement. No collateral damage.

  Maria turned to look at him over her shoulder, her smile radiant. “Look at what your daughter’s doing! She’s such a good girl.”

  He nodded, then continued on through the living room and over to the corner where his duffel bags were stowed. If he looked over there, looked at his daughter, he’d never be able to go. And he had to go, his future and their welfare depended on it.

  “I’ve got some good news,” Maria said, getting up and walking over to him. “Steve was able to enhance the security footage from the hostel in Kabul enough to clearly see John Montgomery’s face. You should be a free man once we get it to your commanding officers. I made dinner and everything to celebrate. We can eat and discuss stuff.” Her smile turned to a frown as she watched him stuffing his things into his bag. “What’s wrong? Where are you going?”

  “I need to leave,” he said, each word slicing his throat like cut glass.

  “What? Why?” She tried to grab a pair of boxers from his hand. “Trevor, stop for a minute. Let’s talk about this and figure it out. Is this because of your meeting with Tim?”

  “No.” He snatched the underwear back and shoved them in his bag, then moved past her to head to the bathroom to get his stuff from there. “It has nothing to do with Tim.”

  “What’s wrong then?” She crossed her arms and blocked his exit from the bathroom. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on. Partners remember?”

  He exhaled slow, forcing the words out no matter how much they hurt. “We’re not partners, not really. We never were.”

  The concern in her eyes dimmed to confusion, then pain. “Trevor, if this is about last night….”

  “It is. It’s about last night. It’s about the night before that. It’s about every night I’ve spent in this house since I showed up here that first night.” He pushed past her and headed down the hall again toward the living room, his shaving supplies and toothbrush shoved under his arm, his chest aching more and more with every word he spoke. “You knew from the start that I wanted to get back to my SEAL team. Now, I’ve got that opportunity and I’m taking it. Staying here with you, being with you was great, but it’s over. We’re over. Thanks for letting me crash at your place.”

  Maria stared at him, her eyes sparkling with anger, the color drained from her cheeks. “This is bullshit, Trevor. I know you’re lying. You care about me. You said you loved me. And what about Camille? Are you telling me she means nothing to you?”

  She means everything to me. That’s why I’m doing this.

  He couldn’t say that though, not without blowing everything. He had to make sure she wouldn’t follow him, had to keep her and their daughter safe. That was his number one priority now. More than his SEAL team, more than saving his own life. So, instead he just kept packing, shoving things in his bag the same way he was shoving his heart and soul down into the gaping black hole inside him that kept growing bigger by the second.

  “I’m sorry.” He jammed the last of his things into his duffel, then zipped it up and slung it over his shoulder, pivoting toward the door only to find Maria blocking his path once more. “I need to go.”

  “That’s it, then?”

  “That’s it.”

  She stepped aside, and he walked to the entrance, willing himself to put one foot in front of the other even as every fiber of his being willed him to run back to her and take her in his arms and beg her for forgiveness. Just a few more steps, just a turn of the knob and he’d be gone.

  Then she said from behind him, her tone quiet and brittle. “Was the ‘I love you’ a lie too?”

  Never.

  He gritted his teeth and inhaled sharp. “I need to go.”

  Then Trevor was out the door and down the front steps, climbing back into his car and taking off in a squeal of tires and a fog of regret. He’d done what he had to do to keep them safe. Now all he could do was pray it would be enough.

  30

  Stunned and numb, Maria flopped into a chair at the kitchen table, Camille in her lap, and stared at the spread of food she’d prepared to celebrate the awesome news that Trevor would soon be a free man. Hard to believe that all her happiness could turn to sorrow so fast.

  Camille gurgled, trying to shove her whole hand in her tiny mouth, and suddenly, Maria was crying, overwhelmed with hurt and sadness and more than a little anger, the last one directed mostly at herself.

  God, I’m such an idiot.

  Her daughter blinked up at her, eyes wide as Maria sobbed. Ugh. None of this had turned out like she’d planned. And she couldn’t even blame Trevor. Not really. After all, she was the one who’d made him sign the contract or
iginally and he’d mostly stuck to his end of the agreement. With the exception of downloading the pics and videos of Camille, but she couldn’t fault him for that either. If she were in his shoes, she’d probably do the same. If anything, Trevor was an honorable man. It took a lot for him to show up on her doorstep, but he’d been upfront with her from the start. Had told her his one goal was clearing his name so he could get back to his SEAL team. So, what had she done? Gone ahead and fallen head over heels for the guy anyway.

  Who was she kidding? She’d loved him before that, but she’d been prepared to do nothing about it. At least until now. Now…now, she’d thought there was hope.

  She swiped the back of her free hand across her cheeks and got up, carrying Camille over to put her into the portable playpen she’d set up in the living room. Penelope had assured her that she’d be fine in it now and Camille seemed to love it. Returning to the kitchen, she began to box up all the food she’d made. At least she’d have dinners prepared from now until forever. If she’d ever eat it. But it’d be such a waste to throw it out simply because she was upset.

  Dumb. Dumb. Dumb.

  Her stomach churned at the dinner smells as she stabbed a large hunk of roast and plopped it into a plastic container, she did her best to do the same with her emotions, to pack them away so she could think rationally about all this, because that’s what she did best and because that was her comfort zone. Cases were like puzzles—once you had all the pieces, it was only a matter of time before the picture would take shape. In this case, she was still missing some pieces.

  Trevor’s meeting with Tim must’ve gone much better than she’d expected if he was now cleared to return to his SEAL team. But how? As far as she knew, the Navy didn’t have any new intel and as of yesterday, they’d been ready to prosecute Trevor for killing his captain.

  So, what had changed?

  She dumped the bowl of roasted potatoes into a separate container and snapped the lid on.

  The run-in with Agent Thompson at The Breakers had to be the answer. Cooperation between government agencies wasn’t exactly common these days, but maybe the Navy was in on the FBI’s investigation into Monty, even if the way Agent Thompson had gone off on them last night for trespassing on his jurisdiction didn’t exactly scream interdepartmental teamwork. Perhaps they even had proof that might help the FBI win their court case against the guy. But something still seemed off about the way Trevor had walked out on her and Camille.

  After boxing up the rest of the food and shoving it into the fridge, she went back into the living room to check on Camille and grab her phone. Still no call from Agent Thompson about those files she’d sent him the night before. Which was odd, considering how interested he’d been in them at the club and how rare her cartographer friend seemed to think those maps were. She’d thought for sure they were on to something there. And she should tell the agent about the video footage Steve had enhanced, as well. That would guarantee Trevor’s exoneration, even if he wanted nothing to do with her anymore.

  Grumbling, she handed Camille her favorite stuffed lion toy and her daughter squealed with delight. At least someone still loved her and didn’t think she was big, fat loser.

  She clicked on her phone and pulled up Agent Thompson’s contact information, which she’d input the night before from his business card. The call rang three times, then went to voicemail. Weird. She tried again. Same thing. Huh.

  Something was off. She could feel it in her bones. One of her most valuable assets as a PI was her intuition and right now her gut was telling her there was something very, very wrong with this whole situation. Except she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what.

  While Camille slobbered all over her lion, Maria went back over all the details of their encounter with Agent Thompson, then Trevor’s reactions today. They’d talked at the club, then once they’d gotten home and she’d sent Thompson the files. She’d fully expected to hear from the agent but hadn’t been too surprised when she hadn’t, as it was late. Then Trevor had gotten the call from Tim and they’d gone to bed. Sexy times had ensued.

  She didn’t allow herself to dwell on those, or the fact he’d said he’d loved her.

  That was still too raw. Too real. Unlike now.

  This morning, he’d left early to meet with Tim, he’d said. He’d been gone all day, until he’d come home and dropped that big old bombshell on her.

  I’m leaving. We’re over. No, I don’t love you.

  Ignoring the clench in her heart, she went over everything again. There had to be a point where it went off the rails. A tell-tale sign of what was to come. There was always a sign.

  Then it hit her.

  The phone call—Trevor had said it was from Tim, but what if it wasn’t? She hadn’t seen the screen, so she’d had no way to verify one way or another at the time. Had no reason to doubt him at the time either. But now….

  Trevor had taken his phone with him when he’d left, but she had another way to get the truth. Like it or not, they were partners and if he was about to do what she thought he was going to do, then he was going to need her.

  She punched the speed dial for Steve.

  He answered on the second ring. “Hey!”

  “Hey, buddy. I need your help with something else….”

  31

  The next day, Trevor fiddled with the flash drive in his hand as he sat on the bed in the small, furnished studio apartment Agent Thompson and Tim had set him up in. Leave it to the US government to pick out the cheapest, smallest place they could find. Rain pounded the roof above and pelted the windows behind him. Somber weather to match his gloomy mood. John Montgomery was due here any second. He’d been more than eager to get his hands on the files from the mission. Stupid too, if he thought Trevor would hand them over without a fight. Trevor loved his country too much, not to mention his love for Maria and Camille, as well. For the safety of everything precious to him, he wasn’t about to let that guy get away this time. He owed it to himself, owed it to his captain, owed it to the glorious future he’d blown all to hell to get this right and get it over with, once and for all.

  A knock sounded on the door opposite him and Trevor’s muscles tensed, ready for action, before he forced himself to calm down. The place was wired with cameras and mics and both Tim and Agent Thompson were relying on him to play this guy just right. All he had to do was keep Monty talking until they had what they needed and allow the agents and MPs to raid the place. He stashed the flash drive in a dresser drawer and headed over to the door.

  “Hey,” he said as he pulled open the door and stared the captain’s killer in the face. The bastard looked the same as he remembered from Kabul—same shifty dark eyes, same shitty attitude. Trevor stepped aside to let the guy through. Monty had a black duffel bag in one hand. “Come in.”

  “Where’s the flash drive?” Monty said, looking around the sparsely decorated apartment with an expression of disgust. “I need to get going.”

  “Where’s the money?” Trevor countered. He’d told Monty he needed two million. Seemed a fitting amount seeing as how that was how much the dumbass had tried to filter through his bank account. “No payment, no files.”

  Monty snorted. “You SEALs. Really on the ball, huh?”

  “You’d know, asswipe. You’re one, too. Or you were, until you turned traitor.”

  “Traitor?” Monty walked over to study an ugly painting of a pelican on the wall. He peered around all sides, then lifted the edge of the picture frame to look behind it. Searching for bugs. Maybe not so stupid after all. Then again, this wasn’t the FBI’s first rodeo either. All the surveillance equipment was well-hidden. This dude would never find it. Monty looked back at him. “Treason is such a gray area these days, isn’t it? And I wouldn’t look much further than the mirror if you want to see a traitor. After all, you killed your captain, right? Can’t get much more treasonous than that.”

  “We both know I had nothing to do with that.” Trevor remained calm and relaxed, knowing that
getting stressed and angry would only reduce his response time and slow his reflexes. “I’ve seen the video clips. Got ’em enhanced too. Can see your face plain as day pulling that trigger.”

  Thank you, Maria and Steve.

  Monty narrowed his gaze, the only sign that revelation had affected him at all was the tightening of his jaw. “All the more reason to get this over with and get out of this shithole country.”

  “Nice.” Trevor’s flat tone said the exact opposite. He reached into the top drawer of the dresser beside him and pulled out the flash drive, holding it up in front of Monty like a carrot in front of a weasel. “Was this worth it? Killing an innocent man?”

  An evil snicker escaped Monty. “You think your captain was innocent? Jesus, you really are as dumb as you look, aren’t you? He was just fine selling those maps to the highest bidder. Me. Of course, the fact I had dirt on him that would’ve cost him his job on his precious little SEAL team didn’t hurt either. He didn’t want to play anymore though. Said he was too close to retirement, the shit. So, I ended him. Best use of a bullet I ever had.”

  Bingo.

  Monty spit on the floor and Trevor squeezed the flash drive so tightly the plastic case creaked.

  Yep. This asshole was definitely going down. The troops should be on their way now.

  Still, he needed to buy a little more time, keep Monty distracted so he wouldn’t notice the men closing in. So Trevor went for the jugular. “You used to be a good man, a decent man, a SEAL. You don’t have to do this.”

  “Shut the fuck up, goody two-shoes. You don’t know shit about me, man. I don’t need your life advice and I sure as hell don’t need your opinion.” He tossed the bag on the bed. “There’s your money, dude. Now give me the flash drive so I can get the hell out of here.”

  Trevor had barely made the handoff when the door crashed open, blasting the knob through the sheetrock wall behind it.