Blue_SEAL Team Alpha

by Zoe Dawson

  “Do you think you and the guys could cover for me? I won’t be gone long, just enough to fly there, see him, and fly back.”

  Scarecrow rubbed the back of his neck. He should be the one to go, but maybe he should just let Tank go. He was feeling a lot of the same guilt. Tank had been standing right next to Blue when that RPG had started the fracturing of their team. “Go. Make it as fast as possible. I’ll pass the word and we’ll cover for you. God help us if we get a call for a mission.”

  “It doesn’t matter if we do. If we don’t start picking up the pieces, we’re all going to be screwed anyway.”

  Scarecrow couldn’t argue. “I got your back, big man.”

  Tank left, and Scarecrow went on with his day. In the late afternoon, Ruckus came up to him on the firing range. He had perused the rows. The man wasn’t an idiot.

  “Have you seen Tank?”

  “Uh, he’s around here somewhere. I think he was going to work with Bronte.”

  Ruckus pinned him with one of his don’t-screw-with-me looks. “Do you think I was born yesterday, sailor?”

  Fuck. “No, sir,” he replied. His LT might be one of the best there was, but every man in this team respected him.

  “I’ve heard the same thing all morning from your teammates. He’s in Panama City.”

  Scarecrow blew out a breath. Double fuck. “Sir…”

  “Save it.” He stepped closer to Scarecrow. “Do you think you can’t trust me?”

  “No, sir. I’m one hundred percent sure I can.” Dammit, he hadn’t wanted LT to get involved. Not telling him was required, but it was clear Ruckus was missing the big picture. “Deniability, sir.”

  Something eased in Ruckus’s eyes, and Scarecrow let out a breath. “I get it. I sent him away to get better, Mr. Porter. I sent him to clear his head, work with students and make him realize he needs us as much as we need him. It was a calculated risk, but he’s dealing with some pretty heavy demons. I honestly don’t know if he’ll get back to us, but my money is riding on him…hard.”

  “Yes, sir. I understand. But—”

  “But what?”

  “He needs to know we’re behind him. I don’t think he’s feeling that right now.”

  Ruckus narrowed his eyes in thought, then huffed out a heavy breath. “I want him back on the team. That’s for sure, but you’re right. About Tank, carry on.”

  Scarecrow watched him walk away. His concern for them and for Blue was why they would, to a man, walk into hell and kick the devil’s ass if he asked them to. Tank wasn’t the only one who needed to talk to Blue.

  He turned around after Ruckus left to find Cowboy, Kid, Wicked, and Hollywood standing there. Cowboy braced his foot on one of the table supports and grabbed the top of the booth, the gleam in his eyes full of hell, his drawl deliberate. “What’s going on, Crow? We’re tired of being in the dark about Blue. He got banished and we don’t even know why. How can we have his back if we don’t know what happened?”

  Scarecrow studied the three of them, then glanced at Wicked. Their eyes held for a minute, then Wicked nodded. They were all concerned and on board with healing this rift in their tight ranks.

  “Crow. I swear to God I’ll kick the shit out of you if you don’t tell us,” Hollywood said, his usual charm gone, nothing but a promise in his eyes.

  Kid shifted, his eyes glittering. “Individually we are one drop, but together, we are an ocean. He needs us all to understand, Crow. We have no secrets from each other.”

  Scarecrow thought that was an accurate statement, except for Wicked. He kept his own counsel about his past.

  He sighed, the sensation of betraying Blue strong. He’d already been through so much, but the alternative was leaving these guys in the dark and the further splintering of their team. They were stronger than this. They were stronger than anything. It was time to clue them in.

  * * *

  When Blue woke up for the second time, he felt better than he had in months. What they had shared, their mutual pain, bonded them tighter than he thought was possible. This girl had the heart of a lion and the will of a predator. When she set her mind to something, there was no quarter.

  She stirred next to him, and he whispered, “I’m going across the street for coffee. Follow me in a few.”

  She’d murmured, “All right.”

  He left her condo complex and walked down the path. A man caught his eye. There was something that tripped Blue’s very sensitive warrior instincts. Something about the look of his eyes. Predator, Blue thought immediately. When he passed him, the guy paid him no heed, but Blue couldn’t help getting an uneasy feeling. He never ignored his gut.

  He got to the coffee shop and ordered his drink, then picked out a chocolate croissant. He went outside to find a table and stopped short. Tank was standing there, his hands in his pockets and a sheepish look on his face.

  Blue came over and sighed. “Are you AWOL?”

  Tank smiled. “No. Not exactly. Maybe. I’ll make it back in time.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “Why am I here? We didn’t exactly part on good terms, Ocean.”

  The use of his first name jarred him. Tank was making this personal. “It doesn’t matter. LT probably won’t let me back on the teams.” God, it hurt like the fuck to say that more than it did when he’d said it after he’d been banished to Florida.

  “LT is rooting for you. We all are.”

  Blue looked away. Some of what he was feeling before Charlie seemed to have disappeared. “I’m working on getting back, Tank. It’s going to take time.”

  Tank didn’t touch him. Instead, he put his big, muscled ass right in front of him. “Jesus, you’re closed up like a drum. I got something to say, and I’m going to say it, so you can just cool your jets and hear me. And if you pull that shit you did with Crow, I’m going to kick your ass, patch you up, and make you listen anyway.”

  Blue sighed.

  “Good. Sit, surfer boy.”

  Blue walked over to one of the tables and sat down. Tank followed him and took the seat across from him. Blue spied Charlie, and Tank didn’t miss the look. He turned around, then looked back at Blue. “You don’t waste any time.”

  “Shut up, Tank,” Blue said under his breath.

  Charlie reached the table. “Hey,” she said, and Tank rose like a gentleman. Geez, Alyssa was a good influence.

  Charlie gave him a quizzical look. “This is one of my teammates, Thorn Hunt, but we call him Tank.

  “I can see why,” she said looking up. “Wow. You look like you could roll over anything.”

  Tank chuckled. “I like her.”

  “I do, too,” Blue said before he could stop himself. Charlie grinned, then glowed.

  “I’m going to get coffee. Be right back.”

  She walked inside the shop and Tank sat down. “You are one big surprise, Blue.”

  “What was it you came to say?”

  “I remember the first day I walked into the ready room. It was filled…with our team, with Alpha. I was the last guy to get there.”

  “Tank, I don’t need the long version.”

  “I’m telling it my way. Close your mouth.”

  Charlie came back out and sat down between Blue and Tank.

  “I was still a bit green handling Echo. But he took to you all like you’d raised him from a pup. It was like we were all best friends right off the bat, but there was one person who drew us all together.”

  Blue tried to ignore the pressure in his chest. He didn’t want to hear it.

  “Our LT described him as a boy-next-door type on steroids. Loved that touchy-feely crap but could balance it with his fierce warrior instincts and a Yoda, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi master, sage philosopher attitude who would often stun us with his insights. The guy was centered like I’ve never seen anyone, able to bring us together, keep us in line and be our moral compass.” He looked away, but Blue couldn’t seem to. He stared at Tank’s strong features softened by his compassion…and
his respect. Something shifted in Blue, and it only made him want to live up to that reputation. He wanted to be that man again.

  “That fucking op…Echo, you. So many dead,” Tank whispered. “When I couldn’t find you, I thought: He’s here. He’s got to be here. He’s always here.” His voice broke a bit. “But you weren’t.”

  Blue took a cleansing breath and looked away. His isolation had been nothing but a fabricated wall that was keeping him from healing, his drinking nothing more than self-medication to keep him from believing that he wasn’t worthy of the brotherhood. Believing his long-ago inability to tell the truth and do something about his friend’s shame and despair had galvanized him to always act with integrity, no matter the cost. It had molded him into the kind of man Tank had just spoken about. And that was where his thoughts about being worthy of the brotherhood had come from. That incident had escalated in his head, sent him spiraling out of control into an abyss he would have died in if it hadn’t been for Charlie.

  He wanted to be that man again if only he could be worthy. That meant getting his balance back. Finding a middle ground where he could put the past behind him and find his center again.

  Natasha had disempowered him, humiliated him, and degraded him. He had then become truly a prisoner, a victim. She’d taken the fundamental core of him and torn it to bloody shreds, driving home to him what sheer terror was, cutting deep to the truest, purest part of him.

  As a warrior, it was hard to wrap his head around the fact that he couldn’t always protect himself no matter how competent or skilled he was. Natasha’s assault not only violated his physical self but also the intellectual, social, and emotional part of him. It triggered his vulnerability issues from when he was twelve and for the first time in his life had realized the world was a dangerous place. He’d relied on his parents to protect him. And they had pretended it never happened, trying to return to normal. Back then he hadn’t had the maturity to deal with it, but he did now.

  But his friend Rory had needed him, he hadn’t known how to react to Rory’s pain, or his fear and his resentment. How many times had someone told him to man up? It was easy to understand from following the normal cues. He’d been taught guys were tough. He was told from the time he could remember not to show weakness, leading him to automatically push down his feelings in favor of appearing strong and impervious to emotions. When Rory had turned to drugs and alcohol, it was too late for Blue to help him.

  Tank cleared his throat, and Blue met his eyes without flinching. “I just wanted to say, I’m sorry. Sorry that I was distracted by Echo, so much so that I neglected to have your back. Sorry that we didn’t find you in time and then lost you. That tore all of us up, hitting LT hard, hitting us all hard. We had to watch that chopper fly away with you inside, knowing we were too late to save you from torture. We all lived in our own private hell. Wicked and Crow went off the reservation, sanctioned dogs of the Kirikhanistan government.” Tank clenched his fist on the top of the table. “Don’t judge Crow too harshly. He’s hurting, too. I think that whole thing made us all fracture a little bit more. It broke down our team, and man, that is our foundation. We’re brothers in arms and always will be. So, fucking finish out this assignment and come home where you belong. We’re SEALs. We’re the brotherhood, and we’re not going to let this defeat us.”

  Thorn “Tank” Hunt was probably one of the toughest SEALs Blue knew except maybe Wicked. Alyssa St. James had changed him into someone who knew himself. Someone who had weathered a shit-ton of guilt and come out the other side. He was a fine man and an exemplary warrior. Blue was proud to serve with him. It meant everything that Tank felt the same way.

  “Hooyah,” Blue said, his voice uneven and gruff.

  “Hooyah, brother.” Tank checked his shiny dive watch. “I’ve got to go. Think about what I said. We’re SEALs. The only easy day was yesterday.” He stood and reached out his hand, and Blue took it, finding himself in Tank’s tight embrace.

  They parted, and as Tank turned away, Blue murmured, “Thank you, Thorn.”

  Then Blue spied the guy who had been outside Charlie’s condo, only this time he was openly watching them. Blue rose, every instinct on point. He started across the street, and Tank automatically covered his back. “What is it?”

  “I think that guy’s watching us.”

  10

  Before Blue and Tank, with Charlie trailing behind, could get near the guy, a black van slid to the curb and he got inside. When it pulled away, the driver’s steely demeanor made Blue’s instincts go ballistic.

  Tank turned to look at him. “What the hell was that about?” It was clear Tank had switched into warrior mode. It was also clear that he was concerned.

  “I have no idea, but there was a message there.”

  “Yeah, someone is watching you.”

  Blue nodded, his mouth tight. He rubbed the back of his neck.

  “I can talk to Ruckus when I get back to San Diego.”

  “He’ll know you were AWOL.”

  “Yeah, he’ll know, but do you think I give a crap about that? Your safety means more to me than a slap on the wrist.”

  Blue turned to look at Charlie when she came up to him. It was clear to him she wanted to touch him, but their relationship was still under wraps. Every protective instinct he possessed went to code red. He thought about Elena and how her help had come at such a high price. He clenched his fists. He took a breath, trying to calm his breathing. The memory of how he’d been helpless to save Elena burned in his brain like acid. He couldn’t let this woman down, no matter the cost. It was then when he realized how important, how vital she was to him, and it had nothing to do with his PTSD or sexual problems. It was all about her.

  “What’s going on? Who were those men?”

  “We don’t know,” Blue said, his voice softening. “You better get going, Tank. I don’t want you to miss your flight and get into any hotter water. Yeah, talk to LT and have him call me.”

  Tank turned to him, eyeing Charlie and the way Blue’s body was now shielding hers. “I’m not too keen on leaving if this is something serious.”

  Blue couldn’t help thinking that Tank now considered him incapable of handling himself. It cut down to the deepest of his insecurity about being worthy of being on the team. “I can handle myself,” Blue said.

  Tank’s head snapped up, and his eyes narrowed. “Do you think I believe that you can’t take care of yourself, knucklehead? That’s not what I’m saying. When a brother is in danger, it’s my duty and honor to cover his back.”

  Something that had knotted up in Blue’s chest unraveled at Tank’s words. There was nothing more important to him than backing up his brothers. He had to stop getting defensive about this and taking everything Tank said in a negative way. He closed his eyes and decided that he was going back to his positive thinking. Overcoming this screwed up sexual issue and getting back on the teams wasn’t going to happen with a negative mindset.

  “I’m sorry,” Blue said. “I keep reacting to my capture when you aren’t referring to my inability to handle myself. Looking at the wrong side of the coin, Tank.”

  Tank clapped him on the shoulder, then squeezed. “Coming back, Blue. That’s the hardest part, man. I know. I had a strong, determined woman in my corner. Something I’ll be infinitely grateful for my whole life.” He eyed Charlie with a slight smile. “Looks like you’re in good hands here.”

  Charlie murmured, “He is, as a matter-of-fact.”

  Tank nodded to her with a look that said he was going to hold her to that. “You need us, Ocean.” His hand tightened again. “You call. Period. We’ll move heaven and earth to be there.”

  “Failure leads to success,” Blue said.

  “Hooyah!” Tank said fiercely. “Now you got it.”

  “Hooyah,” Blue intoned.

  “See you back at Coronado when you’re done here, brother.”

  “Later.”

  Tank hailed a cab, but before he got inside, they
exchanged one more look, and Blue felt his chest fill with pride and determination to get back to Alpha Team. Back to his buddies, back to fighting alongside them, patching them up physically and dispensing his wisdom when they needed it mentally.

  “You guys have a special bond,” Charlie said quietly. “He came all the way here and went AWOL to talk to you when he could have called you. That’s something, Blue.”

  “Yeah,” he said as the cab pulled away from the curb. His senses alert, he turned to Charlie and said, “Let’s get some PT in.” He scanned the area. Tipping him off hadn’t been smart on the part of the people who were watching him. In fact, it might have been the gravest mistake they could make. No one was getting to him again. He’d been strong before, and it was time to hit like the impact zone.

  After PT, they ate lunch and Charlie left to do some errands. Blue told her to be careful and she laughed at him. She sobered when he gave her one of his tough, narrow-eyed looks. She said she would. As he was heading back to his apartment, his cell rang.

  “Beckett,” he said.

  “It’s Ruckus. Tank mentioned to me that you have a mystery on your hands. Two men, a black van?”

  “Yes, sir. This morning. I noticed the guy hanging around a friend’s house, then later he was watching us from across the street. When Tank and I wanted to have a friendly chat with him, his ride showed up.”

  “I’ve put a call into NCIS. There’s a field office in Panama City. Someone will be in touch.”

  “Thank you, LT.”

  “How are you doing?”

  “Better. I was pissed when you kicked me off the team.”

  “I didn’t kick you off. I re-directed you for a short period of time.”

  “Yeah, with lectures about mental toughness. Pretty subtle, LT.”

  “I don’t want to minimize what you’ve been through. But I think you want to continue to do this job. I know you have it in you to get back to us. Work it out, because there is a place for you here when you want it.”

  His words penetrated. His commanding officer wanted him back on the team, part of the brotherhood. Instead of seeing LT’s censure, he was now seeing his concern for one of his valued members. Blue just had to bridge the gap, find his way to where he used to be. “I want it, sir.”