Code Name_Redemption
Page 39
She rounded the team’s main building to find the pavement littered with lean, sweating bodies. Most girls would swoon seeing the strained muscles roping down the men’s ripped torsos.
Not her.
SEALs were a no-go-zone in her book. All of them wore an invisible placard across their foreheads that said, “Man whore.” There wasn’t a SEAL alive that would change her mind, although plenty tried.
The black tarmac looked sticky, as if it were sweating from the scorching sun’s relentless barrage. Half the men lay flat on their stomachs with their hands laced behind their necks and feet crossed. A whistle blew, and the other men standing on the sidelines dove to the ground, covered the back of their heads with their hands, and opened their mouths, crossing their legs at the same time.
This was a simulation position, one they had to take with an incoming artillery round or risk their innards exploding like apples. Two more blows on a whistle, and they crawled toward their instructor. Three whistle blows, and they jumped to their feet.
Watching them, she thanked the Lord she’d been born a girl; Women weren’t accepted into the SEAL program. Clutching the message in her fist, she headed across the Grinder toward the man with the whistle. He fit the description Sarah had given her.
The instructor turned his attention on her as she crossed. When she was about twenty feet away, the whistle dropped from his lips and bounced once on a very broad chest, rolling with defined muscle. With his T-shirt strained tight around his biceps, the man could probably curl a small building. Narrow hips and strong legs spread two feet apart, towered him to at least six-foot-three. He reminded her of a statue of an Olympic God.
“What the hell are you doing, Seaman?”
For an instant her feet became heavy seeing his features contort, but she pushed on until she stood a few feet away. Blue eyes cut into her, the look on his face pure annoyance at her intrusion. Her heart drummed, but she maintained eye contact. Sarah was right for a change—this man was uber-hot, and Sloane was about to make him uber-sad.
“Are you deaf?” he shouted.
“No, sir.”
“What makes you think you can saunter your little ass through my exercise? What the hell is the matter with you? Would you walk through a bloody minefield that way?”
Not unless you were chasing me, but kept the retort to herself. This guy was hard core and pissed, not something she was totally unfamiliar or uncomfortable with. She glanced quickly to see the entire squad of recruits watched her dressing down.
“Lieutenant Damon Stone?”
The Grinder had gone very quiet. Even the other instructors stopped blasting the recruits with insults and watched while the lieutenant grilled her with a glare hotter than the San Diego sun.
“Are you blind too? What the hell does this say on my shirt?”
True, but she wasn’t looking at his shirt. Instead, she marveled at the invisible aura of strength wavering around him.
Sloane took another step and let out a breath. “I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but I just received a call—”
“And it can’t wait or be delivered by something called email? Ever hear of that? It’s an old friggin’ invention. Works wonders,” he roared, loud enough to reach the other side of the base.
She glanced at the message in her hand, and then stared up at him. Removing her cap, she took one more step toward him. Wanting him to take a breath and listen, she waited. That’s what she’d always done when her dad shot into the stratosphere.
Thrusting his arms across his chest he leaned over her. “Am I supposed to use ESP? You’re wasting my frigging time. Do you have something to tell me or not?”
Though he was riled, her gaze lingered on his amazing eyes, a brilliant blue color, not quite like her father’s, but close. Her thoughts were totally inappropriate for the moment, and she internally swatted them away. Normally, she’d be firing a smartass remark his way, but not under these circumstances. She was about to ruin his day, probably his week, if not longer.
The lieutenant stilled, and his gaze ran over her—slowly—but it might as well have been his fingers because it had the same effect. He tilted his head a little, and his lips parted, but he pressed them closed. This man noticed everything in a single glance, including her nametag.
Finally, he deflated as he pulled his ball cap and ran a hand through his hair, eyeing her. “What is it, Seaman Austen?”
“Sir, your sister called. I’m sorry to have to inform you, your mother passed away a few minutes ago. When you can, please call your family. She says they need you.”
It was the oddest moment she’d ever experienced. Lieutenant Stone’s gaze and hers met somewhere in the space between them, tangled up with no urgency to untangle the invisible connection. Then, like a spring thaw, she saw or sensed his pain, and had the overwhelming yearning to hug him.
His jaw tightened, then he nodded sharply, releasing his hold on her by dropping his gaze to the ground.
“I’m so sorry, sir.” She held the note out to him. “And I apologize for interrupting.”
Without looking at her, Damon Stone gently grasped the note, and she turned and walked away. Tears welled in her eyes. One day someone would tell her the same thing, and she would be thrashed to ribbons.
Sloane loved her parents, and by the look of the lieutenant, he loved his mom too.
About the Author
Natasza grew up on the beautiful west coast of British Columbia with the Pacific Ocean on her doorstep, and thousands of acres of forest on the other. After finishing school, her life took a drastic twist, and a lifelong working relationship with the marine industry began.
With a lifetime of working in the marine community, there’s plenty of stories to tell. It’s a different world, different language, unsung heroes and heroines aplenty, heated moments, and blissful silence when all is well. If you’d like to know when my next release comes out, follow me on Amazon and they’ll let you know.
Amazon Author’s Page
Natasza Waters Website
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Email: Nataszawaters@gmail.com
Other books by Nat
Montana Freedom
SEALed with a Weekend
Twila’s Tempest
Too Grand For Words
His Perfect Imperfection
Committed to Chase
A Warrior’s Challenge Series
Code Name: Ghost
Code Name: Kayla’s Fire
Code Name: Nina’s Choice
Code Name: Luminous
Code Name: Forever & Ever
Code Name: Redemption
Code Name: War of Stones (Fall 2017)
Message from Natasza
Thank you for spending time with Greg and Mattie. If you’ve been following along with the series you probably realize that each story focuses on subject matter specific to the life of a warrior and those who love them.
Code Name: Ghost and Kayla’s Fire were about PTSD and the challenges our warriors face to live half their lives in conflict and half at home. Code Name: Nina’s Choice highlighted the struggle involved with a serious injury during combat and separation from family. Code Name: Luminous touched on two very delicate subjects: faith and loss. Code Name: Forever & Ever dealt with bittersweet memories and the lesson we all need to remind ourselves of. Life is precious. Live it well.
Standby for Code Name: War of Stones. This book is my personal favorite. Not because it’s the last in the series, but because readers will leap forward to visit one last time with Alpha Squad.
Please continue to help Paws and Stripes. A nonprofit organization providing service dogs for wounded military veterans. http://www.pawsandstripes.org/ and Operation Gratitude who annually sends 100,000+ care packages filled with snacks, entertainment items and personal letters of appreciation addressed to individually named U.S. Service Members deployed in hostile regions, to their children left behind and to veterans, first responders, wounded warriors and their care givers. ht
tp://www.operationgratitude.com/
88’s Natasza