Outcast (SEAL Team: Disavowed Book 2)

by Laura Marie Altom

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  SEAL Team: Disavowed

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  Epilogue

  SHUNNED Sneak Peek

  Dear Reader—

  About the Author

  Copyright

  OUTCAST

  SEAL Team: Disavowed

  Book Two

  Laura Marie Altom

  www.LauraMarieAltom.com

  SEAL Team: Disavowed

  To become a United States Navy SEAL, a man must be physically forged in steel and able to mentally compute life or death situations with laser accuracy and speed. Our country trusts these men with the most sensitive military operations—many so covert that once they are successfully completed, they are never spoken of again.

  This series celebrates one particularly fierce band of brothers who valiantly battled terrorists whose crimes against nature and humanity were far too great to chance escape. On a dark night, on foreign soil, SEAL Team Alpha witnessed acts so unspeakably cruel against women, infants and small children that their consciences would not allow anything other than their own brand of justice for the scum terrorist cell.

  A trial would have been too good for these pigs, and so, one-by-one they were taken out, and the women and children they’d used were freed. By dawn, an entire region breathed easier. The men of Alpha found themselves heroes to those whose lives they had saved, but virtual criminals in the eyes of the organization they served. After a lengthy investigation, their elite, covert team was formally disbanded.

  They now spend their lives deep undercover, still serving—no longer their country, but individuals who find themselves in need of not only their own personal warrior, but a particular brand of justice.

  While honorably discharged, these men and their actions will forever be disavowed . . .

  SEAL Team: Disavowed series

  Rogue, Book 1

  Outcast, Book 2

  Shunned, Book 3

  1

  “THEY’RE ALL DEAD . . .” English lit professor, Eden Marabella, dropped the satellite phone she’d been speaking into. It shattered against the rocks at her feet, but shock at the sight before her made the loss of their team’s primary outside communication tool a non-issue.

  Her throat closed with emotion. Her eyes stung.

  The more of the grisly scene she digested, the more her stomach roiled.

  She retched at the sheer amount of blood spilled across the ice. It had frozen in pools beneath the majestic creatures, standing in stark contrast to the Orcas’ beautiful black and white markings.

  Her father’s work partner and long-time family friend, Dane Northrup, a marine biologist from Stony Brook University in New York, slipped his arm around her shoulders, comforting her through her latest round of nausea. “Deep breaths,” he coached. “Ride it out.”

  “W-what happened?” she asked, her voice shallow and dazed. “It looks like an entire pod.” Dozens of killer whales had washed up upon the snow and ice-crusted shore of their stretch of Antarctica’s Ross Sea. Her father, a marine biology professor from the University of Tampa had been coming here for years. He and his students had raised millions for conservation and research and now had a private station manned year-round with students and scientists pursuing independent studies.

  Her poor father silently moved among the beached creatures as if under a dark spell. His shoulders slumped. Silent tears glistened on his ruddy cheeks in the bright November sun.

  The day was a rare jewel with the temperature almost above freezing and the horizon clear. Tragedy didn’t happen on perfect afternoons like this, so why were they facing so much death now?

  Earlier that morning, Eden and her dad had caught a ride from friends stationed at McMurdo. Dane followed with her father’s other business partner, Leo Adler, and two students who’d opted to stay in their rooms to get settled.

  The walk to the beach had become an annual tradition for Eden, Dane, and her father. One typically highlighted by visiting an Adélie penguin colony on the rocky point. In her shock over the orcas, she’d forgotten them. She was now afraid to glance in that direction.

  “Dane,” she turned to him, selfishly wishing he were Jasper, the sweetheart she’d been dating back in Denver. She’d been on the sat phone leaving a heartfelt message for him, trying to explain why she’d broken things off, when she’d crested the last rise on the shore trail to witness the carnage below. “Could you please check the penguins? I can’t . . .”

  “Eden, I’m sorry, but—”

  “How did this happen?” Her sob cut off his words. The instant she’d heard his apology, she’d made the mistake of looking for herself.

  The penguins were dead, too.

  Dane grasped her upper arms to keep her from collapsing onto her knees. “I promise we’ll get to the bottom of this. I won’t rest till we have an answer.”

  She nodded.

  When he wrapped his arms around her for a hug, it only reminded her how much she missed Jasper. Until now, she hadn’t realized how great a role he’d played in her life—not that it mattered.

  She’d never see him again.

  She wasn’t even sure why she’d called, other than that she loved this place more than any other in the world. On what would no doubt be her last visit, she’d wanted to share it with him.

  That said, at the moment the man who needed her most was her grief-stricken father who wept over the lifeless penguin chick he cradled in his palms.

  Eden had only taken two steps in his direction when the ground began to shake.

  2

  Four days later . . .

  WHAT HAD HE been thinking?

  Disavowed Navy SEAL Jasper King jumped down from the snowcat he’d spent the past four hours riding on from McMurdo Station, then raised his gloved hand to his forehead, shielding his eyes from the glare of sun on snow. For as far as he could see—which, granted, wasn’t all that far with frigid wind swirling patches of white stuff into an otherworldly haze—was a whole lot of nothing. If not for the fact that he was currently jacked up on bad coffee and concern for his friend, the vast sea of white stretching in front of him would have sent him packing for that little slice of Bahamian heaven he was all the time dreaming about.

  The thing was, the more he’d been around Eden, the more he realized he was no longer content with his usual daydream of chilling on the beach with a longneck Kalik. He wanted to do that chilling with the only woman who’d made him think twice about his vow to remain single—like his brother.

  Sure, what happened to his brother’s wife, Mariah, had been an accident, but that hadn’t kept Jasper from becoming a pariah to his family. An outcast. Clearly, he couldn’t bring her back so his plan was to spend a lonely lifetime punishing himself in the same way he’d unwittingly punished Kyle—his older brother by five years.

  Jasper wasn’t proud of the mistakes he’d made back then.

  He’d been a rebellious punk, making one reckless, stupid decision after another until reaching the point that he could no longer trust his inner voice. If you couldn’t trust yourself, you had no one. Which was pretty much the emotional place where Jasper had been when joining the Navy.

  Ten years later, his decision-making skills had been honed, yet every so often, doubts still crept in. Like the one dogging him about why he was even here.

  He tried forcing a deep breath of the a
ir that hovered in negative double digits, but it burned his lungs, so he jerked up the zipper on his government-issued red parka, slipped on mirrored Ray-Bans, and then followed his driver, Doug, toward the modular prefab research station where Eden and her dad supposedly worked.

  “How long’s it been since you heard from them?” Jasper asked on the approach to the station’s outer door.

  “Three days. I chatted with her father via email. Though comms are crashed down here more than they’re up, so it’s not all that unheard of. I’m sure they’re fine, and you wasted a damned long trip just to check on your girl.”

  “She’s not mine,” Jasper bristled. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want her to be, but this was strictly a cautionary mission. Even if he had been inclined to see whatever he and Eden shared through to a mutually satisfying conclusion, she’d ended things between them before he’d had the chance.

  “Whatever.” Doug opened the door.

  The sudden warmth screwed with Jasper’s sinuses.

  Doug removed his coat and snow pants, hanging both on a long rack that held at least a dozen more.

  Jasper followed suit. He was antsy to see for himself that Eden was okay, but played it cool. Doug already thought he was an idiot. Jasper didn’t want to look like one, too, by charging into the station like some half-cocked gedunk.

  “Leave your boots, too.” Doug pointed to Jasper’s heavy black Sorels. “Quickest way to piss off a whole station is to track in snow.”

  “Thanks. Good to know.”

  Once both men stood in jeans, long-sleeved T-shirts and thick, white socks, Doug opened the station’s inner door.

  Jasper caught himself holding his breath.

  He wasn’t sure what to expect.

  The only thing he knew for sure was that in this moment, his heart damn near beat out of his chest with anticipation. Screw his Joe Cool act. He couldn’t wait to hold Eden in his arms. After that, he’d assess their relationship status.

  He dropped the satchel holding his personal belongings to the vinyl floor.

  “Strange . . .” Doug stepped deeper into the rectangular, white-walled space that looked like a rec room. Four long tables sat at one end while a pool table, sofa, big screen TV, and four pinball machines occupied the remaining space. A white plate holding a half-eaten sandwich and chips sat on an end table. Coffee cups, two jigsaw puzzles, and a few beer cans littered the other tabletops. “Usually, this place is hopping.”

  Jurassic Park played on the TV with the volume muted.

  A splatter of red stood out on the nearest white, prefab wall. Blood?

  Warning bells clanged in Jasper’s head. Maybe his trip down here hadn’t been so foolish, after all.

  “Guess they must have pulled an all-nighter. Everyone’s crashed.”

  “Meaning we should do a bunk check.” Jasper gravitated toward the splattered wall for a closer inspection, but then opted to save that for later. A more pressing issue was finding Eden—now.

  “Yeah.” Doug scratched his head. “Sure, I guess.”

  “Lead the way. I’m seeing two options.” The station had been built with modular pods connected by short, dark spindly corridors that looked more like creepy tunnels.

  “Let’s take the one on the right. It leads to the labs. If the crew’s not there, we’ll check their rooms.”

  “Sounds like a plan. How many crew members are here?”

  “Last count was thirty-seven. Most share rooms.”

  “Is that counting Eden and her dad?”

  “Uh huh.” They’d reached the hall and Doug flipped a switch that immersed the space in cool, florescent light. “Usually, these overheads are left on twenty-four seven.”

  Jasper didn’t like where this was going. Why were thirty-seven people suddenly silent? The question made him rub the back of his neck.

  A communal office area was empty, as were the first two labs. Each area sported signs of occupants—half-empty coffee mugs, an unfinished poker game and a worn paperback copy of How to Win Friends and Influence People.

  “I don’t know what to make of this . . .” Doug shook his head. “At first, I thought your concerns were screwy, but now I’m not so sure.

  Jasper had opened his mouth to reply when a barrel-chested man emerged from one of the as yet unexplored labs at the end of the pod. His bulbous nose was red as if he’d blown it one too many times. Despite a large smile, his high forehead made his blue eyes appear mean.

  Startled, the man lurched back, then laughed. “Doug, you scared the shit out of me. Why didn’t you call?”

  “Been trying for days. How’s it going?” The two men shook hands.

  “Couldn’t be better. Up until this morning, the weather has been strangely cooperative, so most of the crew are camped at the beach.”

  “That explains it.” Doug nodded. “Why this place is a ghost town.”

  “That’s the reason. Sorry, I don’t have a more exciting answer for you. I’m expecting them back any time.” The giant man winked. His pale blue eyes looked almost white. Laugh lines at the corners led Jasper to place him in the forty to fifty age range. Short, spiky blond hair stood at attention. Jeans and a khaki, long-sleeved Columbia PFG made him look more like an explorer than science-type. He extended his right hand for Jasper to shake. “I’m Leo—resident marine biologist guru extraordinaire. And you are . . .”

  Jasper introduced himself, then explained, “I’m a friend of Eden Marabella. She around?”

  “As a matter of fact, she is. But she worked so long last night on her great American novel that about thirty minutes ago she hit her bunk for a nap.”

  “A nap?” The Eden he knew was a powerhouse. Always full of energy and ready for her next adventure. “Point me toward her room. She won’t mind me waking her.”

  “Afraid I can’t do that,” Leo said with a clucking sound and slight shake of his head. “You see, she really has overdone it lately. As her supervisor, for her own well-being, I think it would be best if you—”

  “Know what I think best?” Jasper asked with a less-than-cordial tone. “If you’d show me the way to her room.”

  “Of course.” Unfazed by Jasper’s attitude, he turned back toward the lab. “Give me a moment to wrap up my latest project. It’s time sensitive.”

  “Whatever.” Jasper waved him along. “Hurry.” He hadn’t meant to come across like an ass with Eden’s coworker, but the guy rubbed him the wrong way. Something was hinky down here, and before he left, he’d figure out what. In the meantime, he’d feel a whole lot better once he saw for himself that Eden was all right.

  “Thank you for your patience,” Leo said with an uber-polite formality that made Jasper’s teeth hurt. The guy was up to no good. Jasper’s gut typically never steered him wrong. “A few more seconds and . . .” A timer dinged. “There we go. All done. As soon as I jot down the results, we’ll go.”

  A glance beyond a triple-paned window showed the landscape had vanished.

  All that remained of the outside world was white.

  Though it was plenty warm inside the station, Jasper shivered. The sooner he got out of here, the better. The whole place gave him the creeps. Even more than he hated being duped, he hated being cold. Experiencing both in the same day had him twitchy—never a good thing when he’d been forbidden to carry firepower on what was supposed to be a scientific expedition.

  “It’s looking pretty bad.” Doug folded his arms. “Should you radio the crew? What if they’re lost in that whiteout?”

  “No worries.” Leo rose from his workstation stool. “I’m sure they’re safe and sound.”

  “How can you say that? It’s a mess out there.”

  “Trust me . . .” Leo’s smile held all the warmth of the nearest iceberg. “They won’t feel a thing. And neither will you once you join them.” He pulled a 9mm out from behind test tubes and a Bunsen burner.

  “Hey, whoa . . .” Doug raised his hands and backed away. “What the hell? There are no gun
s allowed down here. And we’ve been friends for like what? Six years?”

  Leo shrugged. “We’ll part as friends.”

  Was this actually going down?

  “Both of you,” Leo waved the gun to herd them toward the door. “Into the hall. I don’t want blood in my workspace.”

  With his Glock stuck back in New Zealand, Jasper opted for the next best thing. The moment Leo averted his gaze, Jasper grabbed a test tube, flinging the contents in the guy’s ugly face. He’d hoped to get lucky with a shot of acid, but the benign liquid merely pissed Leo off.

  “That wasn’t wise.” Their host used the back of his shirtsleeve to wipe down his face.

  “Where’s Eden?” Leo’s inattention became Jasper’s advantage. He leapt toward him, wrenching the gun from his hand.

  Leo lurched forward to take back the weapon, but Jasper used the man’s momentum to swing him around. With one arm securing Leo in a backwards chokehold, Jasper used his free hand to grind the gun’s business-end against his temple. Whispering into his ear, he asked, “Where is she?”

  “You’re outnumbered,” Leo said. “My associates will be here momentarily to dispense with you.”

  Jasper tightened his hold. “Where. Is. Eden?”

  Leo had the nerve to laugh, so Jasper choked the air from his throat long enough to cause him to pass out.

  Pinning him to the floor, Jasper asked Doug, “Find me something to tie him up with.”

  For a precious few seconds, Doug appeared dumbfounded, but then surged into action. Furiously opening drawers, only to slam them closed. He finally held up a roll of duct tape. “Will this work?”

  “Yep. Thanks.” Jasper rolled the tape around Leo’s wrists and ankles.

  Finished, he tucked the 9mm in the waistband of his jeans.

  “Who are you?” Doug asked with a tremble to his voice.

  With a half laugh, Jasper dragged the unconscious Leo to a storage closet. “I could be your best friend or your worst enemy. Choose.”