Navy SEAL Seduction

by Bonnie Vanak

  Must focus on the job at hand.

  The Zodiac had brought them to the patrol boat sitting offshore, where a full-scale US military operation stood by to be launched. He, Ace, Captain Luke Callahoun and Rear Admiral Kurt Walters sat at the conference table.

  The USS Tornado was a compact patrol boat perfect for staging a coastal invasion. With its machine guns, automatic cannons and Stinger antiaircraft missiles, it was a deadly blip off the coast of St. Marc. Nine SEALs from his team stood ready to detach and invade from the Tornado. Another SEAL team was on board the USS Jack Smart. And along with eight Army Spec Ops teams, there were marines and eight warships off shore conducting battle exercises near the harbor of the capital.

  All that firepower and Lacey was still on the island. Damn it.

  “The president has decided to not wait for Congressional approval of an invasion.” Admiral Walters looked neutral as he relayed the news. “Despite the constant, ah, urgings of Ambassador Rossin, POTUS is convinced an invasion is the only way to restore democracy.”

  “Our goal is to protect US citizens who insist on staying on St. Marc, as well as keep order during the invasion as we kick General Montana’s ass out and restore power to the newly elected president,” Callahoun said.

  Admiral Walters pointed to the strategic map displayed on the computer screen on the wall. “Operation Restore Freedom plans for simultaneous entry in several key areas around the island. We don’t want to engage unless necessary. The USS Jack Smart will be the launching craft for spec ops forces, joined by the USS Donald Fischer. We have 20,000 troops standing ready to invade, and then when power is restored to President Salles, a peacekeeping force of 4,000 UN soldiers will take over.”

  “Has State urged all US citizens to leave St. Marc?” Jarrett tried to keep his restlessness in check. “Are our guys sending a transport?”

  “No. POTUS is still hoping for a diplomatic solution, and Ambassador Rossin is working around the clock with State to convince Montana to stand down. Most US citizens have already departed on commercial aircraft.”

  Captain Callahoun leaned forward. “Senator Stewart has specifically requested the evac of his daughter and Ace’s sister and her family. No military intervention. We don’t want locals to know and alert the St. Marc Army, so the senator has made arrangements to charter a yacht to transport the civilians. They’re to report to the marina at Paix Beach at 1300.”

  His CO kept his gaze centered on Jarrett. “Miss Stewart and her party will board the USNS Comfort and remain there until arrangements are made to transport them safely back to the States.”

  Jarrett’s head spun. At least Lace would be evacuated, and the Comfort was a Navy hospital ship, not a combat vessel. But he worried about Fleur.

  “What about Fleur? Lacey’s adopted daughter?”

  “She will be allowed to join her mother. Senator Stewart is working out the last-minute arrangements for her passport and entry papers,” his CO told him.

  Relief filled him. The diplomats at State could figure out the logistics. At least if Lacey had her daughter, she might be coaxed into leaving.

  His CO looked at Ace. “You’re still on medical leave, but you’ll be providing our preinvasion teams with intel necessary for recon. You know the area better than anyone else.”

  Ace ground his jaw and stared stonily at their CO. “I’m good to go, sir.”

  “No, and that’s an order, Chief Petty Officer.” Callahoun softened his voice. “I need you at full capacity.”

  Ace gave a brief nod, but Jarrett sensed the defiance in his friend. He knew Ace’s stubborn streak.

  He only hoped his ex-wife’s famous stubborn streak would not surface when she was ordered to board the Comfort.

  When the meeting was over, Jarrett pulled out his cell. He went on deck to call Lacey. Wind whipped his clothing, and the breeze was refreshing, but did not cool the sweat on his brow.

  Lacey answered on the first ring.

  “You’re being evaced tomorrow,” he told her.

  “My father told me. We have to board the yacht at one o’clock. For a deep-sea fishing cruise.” Her scornful sniff carried through the phone, loud and clear. “We’re leaving while everyone else, all our friends, remain here. And what’s going to happen to them, Jarrett? Will they get caught in the cross fire?”

  “Get on that boat, Lace. That’s all I can tell you.” He softened his voice. “Fleur needs her mom. She needs you to be safe and alive.”

  “She’ll be on the boat.”

  Worry needled him. “Promise me, Lacey. Promise me you’ll be there with her.”

  Promise me you’ll be in a safe place so I can do my job. Promise me we can see each other again and regain what we lost.

  Promise you won’t hate me for leaving you again...

  A heavy sigh. “I promise.”

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw two of his SEAL teammates approach. Then a tiny whisper came over the phone, so faint he almost missed it for the wind and the chatter of his teammates mugging it up.

  “I love you, Jarrett,” she whispered. “Even if I never see you again, I know this much is true.”

  He gripped the phone tightly, his heart constricting. “Love you, too, beautiful.”

  Thumbing off the connection, he stood motionless for a moment. His SEAL teammates, Cooper and Scott, jostled him.

  “I loooo-ve you,” Cooper sang out.

  He grabbed Scott’s arm and fluttered his eyelashes. “You’re so boo-ti-ful, I could die.”

  Jarrett gave the ghost of a smile and told them to do something anatomically impossible. Then he studied Coop, relieved to see his buddy looking more relaxed, the shadows gone from his eyes. Last month they had lost Max, a Belgian Malinois dog who had been conducting recon on a mission. Coop had formed a deep attachment with Max, growing almost as close to the dog as his handler had. Max was killed flushing out a tango, and took a bullet that surely would have hit Coop.

  “Hey, Coop. Good to see you again.” Jarrett nodded at him.

  “Same here, LT.”

  These guys were his buddies, his friends. His family.

  Not Lacey. They were no longer together, and he wasn’t sure if they ever would be again after this.

  He stared at the coastline. Lights glowed sporadically along the shore, but mostly it was dark, for the electricity was still not working.

  He could only hope and pray Lacey would board the yacht tomorrow that would start her journey safely home.

  Because by tomorrow night, if they got the green light to go, he wasn’t sure she could make it home at all.

  * * *

  Jarrett spent the next day prepping and going over the plans with his team. They would approach the shoreline at Paix Beach at 0200 and secure the hotel, for intel said the army was headed there in the morning to commandeer it as a command post.

  He hoped to hell Lacey would meet that yacht.

  And then late afternoon, adrenaline pumping, they got the news the invasion had been canceled, thanks to a last minute intervention. General Montana had resigned and left the country, but US forces would remain on the ground to ensure a peaceful takeover of power by the democratically elected president of St. Marc.

  His team was itching for action, not to stand down, but Jarrett felt nothing but relief. He awaited further orders, while Ace made a call to his sister. He tried calling Lacey, but her cell went to voice mail.

  Not a big deal. Cell service on the yacht must be sketchy. Once on board the Comfort, he could reach her.

  Then at 1700, Ace got a call from a frantic Aimee. She and the twins and Fleur were safe on board the Comfort. But Lacey had not been with them.

  Jarrett took the phone from Ace. “Aimee? What the hell happened?”

  He tried to keep cool, keep his voice calm. Panic wouldn’t help.

  Ace’s sister sounded close to tears. “I’m so sorry, Jarrett. I tried to get her to go with us, but she insisted she had to return to her home because Rose had c
alled in a panic and said she needed money. Price gouging is happening all over St. Marc and without that money, the women at Marlee’s Mangoes will go hungry. Lace said she would take my bow rider from the marina and catch up with us. We waited and waited and delayed the trip to the Comfort, but she never showed up. I called her cell and it goes to voice mail. I don’t know where she is!”

  Aimee burst into tears and began to sob.

  His heart pounded a crazy beat, but he forced his mind to focus. “Did she go alone back to the compound? Aimee? I need you to tell me everything. Think! Who is there with you?”

  Finally, she gulped audibly. “Sam and Fleur. Lacey wouldn’t let anyone go with her, but Gene tailed her back to the compound. I tried calling him but no answer on his phone, either.”

  Relief filled him. The man was good. “Put Sam on the line. Now.”

  Sam spoke quietly, his tone grim. “Sir. I’m sorry, I wanted to go with Gene, but I felt responsible for getting Aimee and her children and Fleur to the Comfort. I’m headed back to the compound now for Gene.”

  “No. Stay there with Aimee and the girls. I need you there. I’ll send word soon as I can.”

  He hung up, feeling the cold sweat trickle down his backside. Ace narrowed his eyes. “Son of a bitch. Someone has them both.”

  “Maybe. I’m headed back.”

  “Word is we’re shipping back to the States, Ice.” His friend’s gaze remained steady. “You gonna go AWOL, I suggest you do it now. I’m with you.”

  “No. She’s my responsibility.”

  He headed toward the bridge, but before he got there, he ran into Callahoun. His CO rubbed his jaw and looked weary.

  “I just got off the phone with Senator Stewart. He’s tried to call his daughter and there’s no answer. He puts the blame on you and he’s making waves in DC.”

  Jarrett clenched his teeth. “It is my fault, sir, for not overseeing her evac.”

  “You were under orders to report for duty. I’m giving you a direct order now, Ice.” The captain’s gaze flicked to Ace, who had followed. “Return to Miss Stewart’s house. Find her and bring her to the Comfort. This is a black op, off the books. Understand? I have no clearance on this mission.”

  He nodded, his chest tight. If anything happened to them, they would receive no help. No official records.

  “I understand, sir. I’m on my own.”

  Callahoun smiled grimly. “No, you’re not. The entire squad is going with you.”

  An hour later the sleek black combat boat dropped off Jarrett, Cooper and Ace a few miles from Lacey’s compound. They found a vehicle near the road and Ace hot-wired it.

  When they arrived at the compound, it was deserted. No security. No trace of the women, or Rose. Lacey’s house had been wrecked, looking much like Paul Lawrence’s had. Inside the mango factory, everything had been smashed. It looked like looters had caused the destruction.

  He knew it was not.

  Jarrett heard a low moan come from the storage room and raced toward it. He opened the deep freezers. In the first one lay a woman. Rose, her eyes wide open in an expression of fear and pain. Jarrett felt her pulse.

  “She’s gone.”

  Damn it. In the second one, a man lay there, curled on his side. Blood streamed from his head.

  Gene. Badly hurt, but still alive.

  They gently lifted him out, mindful of the head wound, and laid him on the floor. Ace began triage as Coop opened his bag and removed the emergency medical supplies they’d brought.

  Gene opened his eyes and gasped. “Easy,” Jarrett said soothingly. “What happened?”

  “Followed Lacey...here. Eavesdropped outside...it was a trap. Bastards used Rose...as bait. They killed Rose and took Lacey...” He coughed.

  “His left lung’s punctured, Ice.” Ace began treating him. “Miracle he’s still alive.”

  But was Lacey? “Talk fast, Gene. Where did they take her? Who?”

  “Two men. White. Late 30s. Yacht... The Crimson Jewel. Headed to Panama. Lacey’s with them. I tried...tried saving her, but they shot me.” He smiled weakly, his skin pale. “Takes more than a bullet to keep me down.”

  “Good man.”

  Taking out his cell, Jarrett called his CO. He needed help. It was time to call the support of his team behind him.

  He only prayed they wouldn’t be too late to save her.

  CHAPTER 18

  Her head hurt and her throat was dry. Lacey struggled to open her gluey eyelids and remember what happened. And then everything rushed back.

  She had arrived back at the compound, and Rose had looked at her, apologizing.

  “I had no choice, Miss Lacey. They were going to kill my folks.”

  And then pain exploded in her head, leaving only darkness.

  The gentle sway of the ground beneath her warned she was no longer on land. Lacey raised her hands and realized they were secured with zip ties. Her head felt like a watermelon. Beneath her was a teakwood floor. Lacey heard a motor churning and voices. With caution, she raised her head.

  She lay in a lounge with a long sectional sofa. Lamps glowed on tables next to the sofas. Large glass windows were covered with white shades. A set of stairs was off to her right.

  Two men sat at a nearby table, assault rifles hanging from their shoulders. They were playing cards. One wore a dark business suit with a red checked tie and had a visible scar on his chin. He fit the description of the man who’d hung around outside Fleur’s school, asking about her.

  Judging from the hum of the engines and the slap of water, she was on an oceanbound yacht.

  She watched the men, engrossed in their game. After trying to move her feet, and realizing they were bound by zip ties, she tested the plastic ties around her wrists. Lacey lay still and tried to stay calm.

  The men were arguing in Spanish about killing her and dumping her body into the ocean. They said the timing had to be right, but El Jefe, their boss, wanted it to be perfect.

  Terror clogged her throat, but she tried to keep her wits about her. Trussed like a chicken, her arms and legs bound with zip ties. She had a little secret these thugs didn’t know.

  Jarrett had taught her how to escape zip ties. He’d done it for “fun” one day after she’d bet him she could tie him up and incapacitate him.

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs. She looked up and her heart sank.

  Mr. Augustin.

  The man went to the thugs playing cards. “You fools. She’s awake. Stop talking. Don’t you realize this woman can hear everything?”

  The dark-haired man laughed. “It doesn’t matter. El Jefe says she will sleep soon in the ocean.”

  More footsteps on the stairs. Lacey closed her eyes, trying to keep her body from shaking.

  And then she heard Augustin say in a quiet voice, “Yes, El Jefe.”

  She opened her eyes to see the arms dealer give the newcomer a respectful nod before he ran up the stairs again.

  Lacey stared helplessly as her captor sat on the sofa with a smug smile.

  “Hello, Lacey. I suppose this means I’m no longer officially in your employment.”

  Her captor laughed. Collette. The manager of Marlee’s Mangoes.

  The woman who was going to kill her.

  * * *

  She’s alive. She has to be alive.

  On board the Tornado, radar had picked up a blip about ten miles out from the southeast coast of St. Marc. It had to be the yacht Gene had mentioned. The yacht was now stationary.

  Now he and his team of four other SEALs were going follow the blip and board the yacht.

  Gene was on board the Comfort in surgery. It wasn’t known if the man would make it. He had a collapsed lung, where the bullet had pierced it, and internal injuries. But the guy was tough and chances were good.

  A half-moon hung in the sky like a lemon wedge, scattered clouds blocking the light. He’d prefer complete darkness, but no choice. With gloved hands, he clutched his HK MP5SD as the Zodiac sped toward the y
acht.

  Wind whipped at his face as he kept his eyes on the target. He pulled his AN/PVS-7 device and put it on his head, and then flipped on the NVD goggles, turning everything putrid green. Now he could clearly see the outline of the sleek yacht, bobbing in the choppy waters.

  She had to still be alive. Had to be.

  Focus. Do your job.

  On his left, Ace used the GPS and studied the dial. He rapped Jarrett’s hand, gave the thumbs-up. Jarrett nodded.

  Let’s do this.

  Jarrett took a deep breath, trying to ease the worry from his mind. Always in the past, he’d pushed aside the fear, replacing it with focus and drive. But now fear had crept along the edges of his mind like little gray blobs, because this was Lace.

  His woman.

  His love.

  All those years without her had proved one thing. He didn’t want to give her up, not to divorce and now, not to death.

  “We’ll get her, Iceman,” Coop promised. “We’ll find her and bring her home. No worries.”

  He centered his breathing and mentally went over a checklist for all his equipment. The worry became a grinding little thing in his mind, but he pushed it aside. I’ll worry later.

  She has to be alive.

  * * *

  Lacey knew she was going to die. She saw it in Collette’s eyes amid the same smugness always present with her former manager. Once she had interpreted the smugness as confidence Collette could teach other women.

  Now she saw it for its true nature—an arrogance and sociopathic indifference to all other concerns but Collette’s own.

  Her manager sat on the sofa with a smug smile. “You nearly cost me a large sum, Lacey Stewart. But soon, all that will be resolved.”

  She managed to speak through her cracked, dry lips. “Why are you doing this? Money? Don’t I pay you enough?”

  The woman laughed. “You might say. Your puny salary could never buy everything I have earned on my own. You know me as Collette. My associates refer to me by my real name—Corine. Or C.A. Batista, matriarch of the Mendoza drug cartel in Guatemala.”