The House At Sunset: SEALed At Sunset - The Beach Renovation (Sunset SEALs Book 5)

by Sharon Hamilton

  She handed the box to Andy, who was frowning as he placed it on the table. Aimee opened another package.

  Over dinner, Andy had been quiet. Aimee thought perhaps the three plus short days they had left was beginning to get to him, so she didn’t want to put any attention on it and hoped it would just pass. But the longer it went on, no matter how many times she tried to engage Andy in light conversation, he was guarded. It wasn’t something she was used to. She’d finally decided to bring it up, and then he began to speak.

  “Aimee, we’re always supposed to have this talk with our wives and parents before deployment. Just so you know, they had me write a letter to you, and, if something happens, you’ll get it.”

  “Andy, don’t. Can’t we wait a couple of days to talk about this?”

  “I was going to. But these photographs you were sent got me thinking.”

  “Okay.”

  “We weren’t married before when I went off, so I didn’t prepare you well enough. That’s on me. And you know life is fragile. We never know if we might step into something totally unforeseen, even with all the best planning and intel. So, you know the drill. Something happens to me, you go on, and you try, if you can, to pick another Team guy. And they’ll be coming too.”

  “Andy, I’ve been told this. Christy had a good talk with me last time. I really don’t want to go into it right now.”

  “Just hear me out and then you can be mad, if you want to. It’s about what you do when I’m out of the US. You watch for odd things, people who get interested in you. Be careful of what you say to others, especially about me, or anything about what I do for a living.”

  “I know this.”

  “And you stick with the wives you know, even though they won’t have husbands who are deployed. My new LPO is not much older than I am, and I haven’t met his wife, but they are newly married. Help her out, if you can, because she’s no Christy Lansdowne.”

  “I will. You’ll leave contact information?”

  “Yes, we have a sheet with the other names to stay in touch with, like a phone tree, but you have the old Team 3 guys and gals, so use them too.”

  “I will.” Aimee could see there was still something else.

  “I hesitated to bring this up, but I want you to hear me on this, Aimee.” Andy took her hands in his, and, across the table, squeezed them. “About looking for Logan. I’m going to ask you not to go doing that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s dangerous. He might be dangerous. He might be hanging with dangerous people. You have to take extra precautions to be safe, okay?”

  “But I’m not going to be searching through homeless shelters or walking the streets, Andy. I might want to check in with the clinic where he was staying, you know, talk to his old doctor.”

  “He said he’d contact you if he heard anything. But please, don’t go anywhere or do anything on your own that could possibly put yourself in danger. And it’s not because I don’t think you’re savvy and smart. I just won’t be here to jump in if it was needed. You never know with these kinds of things.” He squeezed her hands again. “Like I said earlier, life is fragile.”

  Her eyes were watering as she began to see how concerned he was for her safety. The reality that they’d be separated for what could be several months began to dawn on her. She was missing him already. But she also didn’t know how to reassure him that she’d be smart, and she’d be safe.

  “Andy, I love you for caring about my safety. I really do. But don’t worry. I won’t do anything stupid or anything that would put myself in any danger.”

  “You remember what the doctor said. He told you not to go looking for Logan. He even said it wasn’t safe. If you saw him, not to expect that he’d be well enough to have interaction without you being in danger. Remember, honey?”

  Aimee had fought the doctor’s words that day just as she was fighting Andy’s words now. But she didn’t want him to worry, even though she knew nothing would ever stop her from looking for her brother. She didn’t want Andy leaving with that concern. She didn’t want to lie, either.

  “I promise to be safe, Andy. Thank you for reminding me. I’ll be smart. You’ll see. No worries there.”

  “So, you’ll give me your word you won’t go on a scavenger hunt for Logan?”

  She hesitated just long enough to cause Andy to give a worried sigh.

  “Aimee, I have to have your word. Especially no streaking out on your own.”

  “I promise. If the doctor calls me, I’ll bring Shelley. If I run into Logan, which I don’t think I will, but if I do, I won’t try to approach him.”

  “Because you tried to before, remember?”

  “Yes, I know. I won’t do that again.”

  “Okay, sweetheart. Thank you. Please, do this for me.”

  “I will. I promise. You have to promise to come back to me all in one piece, okay?”

  “Remember the magic. The magic will bring me home. You’ll see.”

  Chapter 4

  The separation from Aimee was more difficult than Andy expected—for him. Aimee cried, but held herself together when he denied her request to travel to Little Creek to see him off. He’d told her it was part of his concern that she not take long trips alone, at least until he was back in the States. He promised her the mission was expected to only take sixty days, which was a bit of a white lie, since it was more than possible it could extend another two to four months.

  He figured that was the source of his upset, and like he always did on missions, got himself into game mode, like he’d been trained. Lots of things happened at home when they were gone. This was just a little trip, a little lie, he told himself.

  He’d started making a list of things he’d have to pick up at the Team building, since the Gulf Coast wasn’t exactly the place he could obtain gear for the trip. He’d gotten his Africa shots some six months ago when he deployed with Team 3. He was relieved that he wouldn’t have those sore arms as he bounced around in transport planes on the way over. On top of everything else, he was grateful for this little break.

  But the days went by quickly and the two of them did half of what they’d planned on doing before his leaving. Of course, that was partly his fault, since they did spend a lot of time in the bedroom, not that Aimee minded. He didn’t think getting married would make him feel differently about having sex with her, but it did. This time it was serious. They were a forever couple, not just dating or even living together. He reveled in the celebration of their vows and their love every time he thought about that day. Just like the first day he met her in Cory’s rented bungalow, he knew she’d be a part of his life in the future. Now he had all her future, as long as he did his job and came back safe.

  And maybe that’s why it was harder for him to leave. He had more to lose. He’d become a SEAL as a dumb single guy obsessed with equipment, gear, dangerous stuff, things he could fix and things he could blow up. Having Aimee in his life eclipsed them all.

  The long good-bye kiss was over. He stood nervously in front of her silently weeping form. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. Just keep close to the wives,” he whispered to the top of her head. “And, get some sleep.”

  She chuckled into his chest. The tension was gone.

  He placed his fingers over her lips so she wouldn’t say good-bye, which was a rule for him, gave her a wink, and hopped into his truck for the twelve hour drive up north that would take him all night long. As he backed out the driveway into the beach trail road, he reminded her, “I’ll call you before I take off, sweetheart.”

  He waved and watched her wave in response through his rearview mirror.

  Gulf Boulevard was bathed in that familiar orange glow. He stopped several times to make way for groups of beachgoers who had crossed the road originally to stand at the surf’s edge, some with cooler wagons, umbrellas and folded beach chairs in tow.

  This was the end of the year already! An unusually warm December. When a third of the country was unde
r a blanket of snow and howling winds. Andy thought it was fitting to leave Sunset Beach at this time of day, with the warm sun and ocean breeze in his face.

  The time of magic. He knew it would still be there when he returned.

  Andy arrived at base just as the sun was re-appearing. The first thing he noticed was the frigid temperature. Anywhere else but Florida, December would be one of the coldest months. He missed his Hawaiian trunks and flip flops already. He was going to pick up another heavy water-resistant jacket for the trip over, since sometimes the transports were drafty, and they usually flew at night. December was one of West Africa’s warmer and wettest months.

  He reported to the Team building, one of the first to arrive. Peterson greeted him with a warm handshake. “Happy to see you, Andy. I knew I didn’t have to worry, but I wouldn’t have blamed you if you went AWOL on me. New bride, beautiful beaches. Nice warm weather.” He shook his head, suddenly at a loss for words.

  “Nah, and miss all the fun in Africa? The bugs and snakes the size of a VW bus and that red clay that stalls anything within a hundred feet? No way, man.”

  Peterson took it well and slapped him on the back. “You’re right. We were made for this shit, weren’t we?”

  “Hell yeah!” Andy noted the charts and maps laid out for his presentation later in the morning. “Looks like you’re finishing your homework. I’ll let you to it, then.”

  “I’m thinking you drove straight through. Am I right?” he asked Andy.

  “Yessir. I did.”

  “So, you go over there where we’ve got a couple cots and some blankets. The showers are in the corner as well if you want to freshen up. We’re starting at nine hundred, so you got about two hours to yourself. Can’t promise breakfast, but something’s coming just before, if you’re hungry. Or, you can run over to Beck Hall for some grub.”

  Andy weighed the value of a shower against getting some rest, something to eat or a new jacket. He decided he could make do without the breakfast and maybe bum a jacket off another Team Guy. “Thanks, I think I’ll just do that.”

  He ambled over to the dark corner, tossed his bag on a folded pile of blankets, snatched a fresh tee shirt and shorts from his bag, collected his shave kit and headed to the showers.

  In five minute’s time he had completed his triple S routine and tucked himself between two scratchy brown blankets, finding the oversized cot a perfect fit. He pretended the blowers up in the roof rafters were ocean sounds and was hard asleep in seconds.

  Mumbled conversation and a latrine flushing woke him up. In the shadows, he quickly donned his jeans and a long-sleeved flannel shirt, straightened his gear and walked into the lighted room filled with about twenty Team Guys. He shook hands with Archie Nolan and Dallas Grant, who had accompanied his LPO to his wedding.

  Dallas pointed to a tray of bagels and cream cheese, fresh fruit and coffee nearby. “Grab some fixin’s, if you’re hungry.”

  As he made his way back to a seat next to Dallas and Archie, Peterson began his presentation. The lights dimmed, as a map of Nigeria and the surrounding area came into view on a large screen.

  “This is going to be my first trip to West Africa, but some of you who have come from other teams, like Andy, here, are more familiar with the geography and people. We’ve seen some major instability in both Nigeria and Benin over the past few years, and heavy violence erupted last year which required Uncle Sam’s help, some of it heavy and seen, and some unseen. And there are some bigger players on the horizon destabilizing the area.”

  Andy had heard it before. He’d seen first-hand the destruction left behind by local militia groups who had formed in the vacuum created by governments who were unable to exert peaceful control over the region. It’s what made this part of the world so dangerous. New militia groups, along with leaders with grand plans of country domination and asset control, were popping up all the time, their loyalties sometimes murky.

  “We’ve got a group of Western journalists and aid workers being held captive by a small army that crossed into Nigeria earlier this month, but they are aligned with a rebel leader in Benin who is launching opposition to the duly elected President. We aren’t interested in the politics. We don’t care who these groups are, except that we have to find a way to get our American aid workers and two Dutch journalists out without creating an outright civil war.”

  Peterson didn’t give anyone time to react. It didn’t take many words to paint the picture of what a mess the factions had made of two countries and threatening to be a powder keg to draw in several others.

  “Most of these militias are fighters from neighboring countries who are just trying to make a few bucks to send home to their families, anyway. Freelancers. So, there’s no real political agenda here, and not a real religious or ethnic one, either, which is a shame. Benin is one of the oldest independent nations in Africa and once had a flourishing democracy until recently.”

  Peterson scanned the room, and then continued. “We think there are still six people, four males and two females, being held. We aren’t sure about their physical condition, either, but reports say so far, they are uninjured, but no doubt suffering at the hands of the guards. No ransom demands are being made. They are a grass roots and not well funded missionary group from the Pacific Northwest, part of a megachurch ministry and had no business being there. But we don’t always get the smart ones. They do require rescuing and State has pushed us to act.”

  Andy was intrigued by the Dutch journalists, so he raised his hand.

  “Andy?”

  “Sir, the journalists. What publication are they from?”

  “From what we’ve been able to make out they were along for the publicity, recording with a camera crew, all the good works the aid workers were doing. They brought a ton of bibles to hand out, all sponsored by a huge church fellowship. It was to be for some documentary coming up. But we don’t really know, Andy.”

  “You have a reason for asking?” Dallas Grant barked, even though he was sitting right next to Andy.

  “Well, we uncovered elements of human smuggling in the Canaries and at Cape Verde on Team 3. I wasn’t on all those missions, but we did nab a couple of Dutchmen who were involved in some heavy trafficking of young girls. They had a ring that extended well into Nigeria.”

  “I imagine State is looking into that,” said Peterson. “If you have contacts, help me out, Andy. One of the issues here is that everyone works together for a bit, and then they’re all for themselves and they go to war and resurface somewhere else. It’s a revolving door.”

  Andy completely agreed.

  Peterson outlined some logistics of the trip over, and indicated they’d be leaving at dusk so that they’d have the cover of darkness when they landed at a recently fortified base created in neighboring Niger.

  When the meeting broke up, he asked Dallas Grant, who was about Andy’s size, if he had an extra jacket he could borrow for the trip. Dallas led him over to his duty locker and pulled out a bag with a brand-new Trident Concept water-repellant jacked with all the zipper pockets and compartments a frog could ever want. Before he handed it to Andy, Dallas pulled the tags off.

  “I can’t take this. It’s way too nice, and it’s brand new.”

  “Sure you can. I haven’t had time to customize it, and it will drive me crazy if I can’t reach my gear quickly when we’re in the field. You take it. I can get another one when I get back.”

  “I’m paying for it, though.”

  “If you insist,” Dallas said, shrugging his shoulders.

  “Thanks, man. I’m seriously stoked.”

  “Well, don’t complain if the zippers are stiff, or the angle is wrong for your hands. I gotta get my stash without thinking too much about it. You might want to shoot me later.”

  “Not a chance. I’ll bring a needle and thread and work on it when we arrive if we have time.”

  “Okay by me, Dolly Madison. Say, if you’re good to go, wanna grab a burger? It will be a long time
before we’ll see anything that fat and juicy again, trust me.”

  “McCoy’s? Cory used to rave about it all the time!”

  “Yup. All the bacon and avocados and horseradish you can stand. Of course, in Cory’s case, we had to limit the beer and other stuff, but the two of us spent quite a lot of time getting our carb load back when he was here.”

  “Done deal. Say no more, but you better drive. I’m all turned around.”

  Before they left the building, Andy gave Peterson a couple of names.

  “If you have time, Kyle can get you those numbers. You’ll want to talk to them.”

  “I’m all over this. I’ve heard of this Sven guy. You deployed with him?”

  “Former Norwegian FSK. You won’t get a better guide. And, last I checked, the two of them are kind of an item, but you didn’t hear it from me. Kelly has good instincts.”

  “Thanks. I’m calling him now.”

  Dallas inserted himself. “Excuse me, Peterson, want us to bring you back a burger?”

  “Now why in the Hell would I turn that down? Thanks.” He started to dig into his back pocket and Dallas stopped him.

  “We’ll catch you when we get back.”

  Both Cory and Dallas had been right. Even though Andy knew he’d be comatose in an hour, the burger was everything he’d hoped for. He relished getting catsup all over his chin, which he cleanly wiped off. Inside of five days, he’d have a full beard. The fries were hand cut and gigantic wedges smothered in barbeque and rock salt. They each washed it down with a draft, which wasn’t exactly regulation, but Andy knew it would help him catch a little more shuteye before the boarding.

  “How is Cory doing, anyhow? I tried to talk to him at the wedding, but he wasn’t having it,” posed Dallas. “And I didn’t want to ask in front of our LPO.”