Lock and Load (SEAL EXtreme Team)

by Kimberley Troutte

  Holding his untraceable cell phone in his lap, he took a moment to dig deep and pull out his inner car salesmen. Convincing his friend to go on this mission might be a tough sale. If Mack was conflicted about it, Tavon would be downright torn up. It wasn’t the danger that would repel him—the big bull wasn’t afraid of anything—the idea of rescuing someone who’d stolen secrets from the U.S. would chap his hide.

  Tavon was one of the most patriotic guys he knew. He was a friggin’ war hero. They were piling up a collection of medals between the two of them. Tavon, or Big T., as the guys called him, was the man Mack trusted the most, as a spotter, as a friend. Mack was currently one of the best snipers in the SEALs, but he’d be nothing without Tavon’s gift as a spotter. The two were right and left hands, yin and yang, strong and fricken’ frightening. Mack would feel incomplete without Big T. by his side on this mission.

  Still, he wouldn’t force the man to go. Every team member had the option to say no and it was 50/50 odds that Tavon would decline. The ferocious monster was turning into a family man. He was ready to hand over a pistol for a hammer, and a Humvee for a lawnmower. Big T. said he wanted to settle down and made it clear on the last mission he would not re-enlist. Even though he loved his job, as all the team members did, his wife and kids meant more to him than his buddies. More than life. More than SEALs.

  For the first time, Mack understood the sentiment. Watching Jenna sleeping beside him, he lifted her blond hair off her sweet face, and smiled. He understood all too well.

  Hell, he was doomed.

  To his surprise, Tavon agreed to meet him in Hong Kong.

  “Raising kids is damned hard, Riles.” His deep voice rumbled across the line. “The bickering, snoring, farting. It’s like being on the team without the pay. Just you wait.”

  Mack grinned. Part of him couldn’t wait. The other part was a SEAL through and through. He had no idea how he was going to join the two sides of his heart.

  Next, Mack dialed the number for Ty Whitehorse, the team’s helo pilot, corpsman, and tracker extraordinaire. Ty answered on the first ring. “Hey, Mack. Granny said you’d be calling.”

  “Really?” Mack didn’t believe in hocus-pocus, but Ty’s old Apache granny was something else. She forecasted the oddest things, and hell, if some of them hadn’t proved true.

  “Nah. I’m pulling your leg. I’ve got caller I.D. So, what’s up? Got a job for the team?”

  Ty agreed to the mission, even though he was bummed that there would be no helo flying.

  “You almost got the team killed on the last mission,” Mack said.

  “Almost being the operative word. I haven’t downed a helo, yet, and I don’t intend to. I’ll see you in Hong Kong.”

  Jenna stirred in her seat. “Mack?”

  “I’m here, babe. Tavon and Ty are both in. I’m calling the Handlys next.”

  “They’ll agree,” she mumbled and turned on her side.

  That’s why he’d waited to call them last. Of course the Handly brothers were in. Willy and Charlie gulped adventure and swilled excitement. They played hard, fought harder and were insanely good at their jobs. They only had one big problem—technically, two big ones—that wouldn’t stay in their pants. To the Handly brothers, no woman was off-limits. Not even the team’s Commanding Officer’s daughter. Because of those two horndogs and their sexual escapades, the whole team had been slapped with extended leave. That punishment stung. Before Colombia, Mack had thought there was nothing worse for a SEAL than being benched.

  Now, he knew better.

  Mack lost his mind when Jenna was kidnapped in Colombia. He never wanted to feel that terror or powerlessness again. He couldn’t. It would kill him. For the first time in his life, Mack didn’t want to let a woman out of his sight. He found himself constantly touching her soft skin, breathing in her coconut shampoo scent, and watching her chest rise and fall in her sleep. Time and time again he had to prove to himself that she was really there. His Jenna.

  Loving this woman had always been hot, but now it was…deeper, scarier. Is this how other men felt in love? Shit, who knew? Navy SEALs didn’t talk about this crap. His obsession to keep Jenna safe was making a mess of his life-long goals. How in the hell could he be a SEAL with a woman strapped to his hip?

  The Handlys wouldn’t understand such a dilemma. They went through women like a twelve-pack of beer—fast, hard, without any remorse. He’d still ride their asses for the trouble they’d put the team in, but secretly he thanked them. If he hadn’t been on extended leave, he wouldn’t have been reunited with the love of his life. Even if his life was upside down, he’d thank the Handlys someday.

  Not this one. Today, they owed him.

  In Austin, Texas, Willy Handly pressed a girl up against the wall in the back of his favorite honky-tonk. The band played an out-of-tune version of George Strait’s, “All My Ex’s Live in Texas” while he nuzzled her neck. Slowly, he ran his hands up her sides and cupped her breasts.

  “Willy.” She gave him a half-hearted push. “I work here. I don’t do this.”

  “You don’t do…” He kissed her, rubbing just-right so that she could feel his hard-on. “…this?”

  She pulled her lips away. Her face flushed with excitement. “That’s you?”

  “Uh-huh.” He gave a little thrust. “All me, baby. Wanna ride?”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m supposed to be taking inventory. My boss is going to kill me.” Pulling hard, she brought his lips to hers and grabbed his ass with her other hand.

  That’s more like it.

  He wrapped her smooth leg around him. She was on one foot now, off-balanced, just the way he liked it. She kissed him harder, holding on, swaying in his arms. Her skin was soft under that skirt. His fingers kept traveling, up, up way up until he was inside.

  “Oh, wow,” she moaned.

  He shifted so that he could whisper into her ear. “I’ve got you, um…” Michelle? Janet? Lisa? He couldn’t see her nametag. “…sweet thang. Let go. I’m going to make you come, right here, right now. And then I’m going to pound into you. Hard. Deep. You’ll feel like you’ll never stop coming.”

  Willy wasn’t lying. He knew what he had and exactly how to use it.

  “Oh! Willy, that’s hot…” she panted. Her muscles tightened around his finger. She tipped her hips, grinding into his hand. “Don’t stop.”

  “Hell, no. Get ready because when I take you it’s going to be so good. You won’t be able to walk straight for days. I’m going to touch you in places you didn’t know you had—”

  The cell phone in his back pocket rang.

  “Don’t you dare answer that,” she ordered.

  “Sorry, sweet thang. I’ve got to.” He pulled his fingers free. The caller I.D. made him grin. “Mack! What’s up? Are we back in yet?”

  The girl patted his chest. “Hey, remember me?”

  He lifted one finger. If Mack was calling it was important. “Damned, C.O. Charlie and I make one lousy mistake…”

  The girl, whatever her name was, cupped his balls through his jeans. “Helloo. I’m still here.”

  He pulled her hand away and listened to what Mack was saying. Hong Kong? Hell, yeah. Danger. Political B.S. Sneak in, snatch, grab, bug out. Hoo-rah! What Mack suggesting sounded great, besides, he couldn’t really tell his Lieutenant Commander no, could he?

  Willy smashed his fist against the wall. “Hell, yeah!” He was pumped. “Just one question, can I blow something?”

  “Hey, baby, I’d like to blow something.” The girl’s leg tightened, as she ground herself against him.

  He turned and her leg easily slipped off of him “This is great news, Mack! Have you called Charlie? Cool. I’ll meet you guys at your hotel.”

  “Come on Willy, I’m this close,” the girl whined. “Do me good. Like you promised.”

  Putting his phone back in his pocket, he glanced at her name tag. “Sorry, Lisa. Maybe next time I’m in Austin. I’ve got to jet.�
��

  The bar towel she threw pegged him in the back. “My name’s Lena! Don’t forget to call

  me.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Amber did her best to blend into the crowd of people pulsing toward Temple Street. Beads of sweat ran down her back under the coat. A few stray pink hairs escaped the new hat and stuck to her cheek. Discreetly, she tucked them back in and kept moving.

  “Stop! Woman, stop,” a man behind her yelled in English.

  Several heads in the crowd turned around. Amber kept hers down and picked up her pace, walking as fast as she could through the throng in Mong Kok. A woman screeched, followed by the Mandarin word for “jackass”. Amber didn’t dare slow down. Racing by a window, she caught the reflection of a Chinese man behind her dressed in black and shoving people out of the way. He was gaining on her. She ran faster, smashing into men and women, panting her apologies in Cantonese. Across the street another man pointed at her and a third joined the chase. They seemed to be everywhere.

  Up ahead, she saw a chance to hide. She raced under the giant red and turquoise-blue gate and entered the Temple Street Night Market. Her stomach growled when the smell of fresh seafood from the street-food restaurants hit her nose. She hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, but she wasn’t about to stop at her favorite Dai Pai Dong for their delicious Chili Pepper Pissing Shrimp. She weaved in and out of the market stalls, trying to disappear.

  One of the best-kept local secrets was just around the corner—Mr. Lee's Teas. Dodging into the little hole in the wall, she pulled the door closed behind and waited. Did they see her go into the shop?

  “Chased by demons?" A man asked.

  She jumped. "Mr. Lee! You scared me."

  “Scared of an old man? I think not. Something else frightens you, neuih." He dipped his bald head toward the door where she still had a death grip on the handle.

  Amber sucked in a deep breath so perfumed by tea that she could taste the musty flavors on her tongue. She scanned the shop. It was full with cartons and barrels of herbs and teas, no other neuihs, or daughters. They were alone.

  "I’m in big trouble. Men are following me. Can I hide here?"

  His old eyes widened with concern. "Come in the back." He took her hand. "There is no exit, but perhaps they will not come in here." He pushed aside hanging beads and ushered her to a tiny room, just large enough for his cot. This was where he slept? Had she just brought a whole boatload of trouble to a nice old man's house?

  "Thank you. I am sorry. I didn't know where to turn."

  His round face perspired. "You are welcome here, neuih. I will protect you as best as I can."

  "Mr. Lee!" She tugged on his long sleeve. "If they do come in, please, don't stop them. I don't want you to get hurt. But I must hide this." Amber showed him the memory stick. "No one can have it. Understand?"

  Mr. Lee gazed at the stick as if it might talk, but he did not touch it. “Very well, you may put it—” Just as his gaze darted to a large vat of dried tea leaves, a bell jangled. Someone had come into the shop. He brought his tea-stained finger to his lip. Amber nodded and ducked down behind the barrel.

  “Welcome,” Mr. Lee said. “What can I do for you gentlemen? A nice tea of yin chiao to clear the sinuses? Or maybe you seek horny goat weed?”

  Amber quickly shoved the memory stick down into the barrel of tea leaves. Gentlemen? How many?

  “Horny goat weed! Do I look like I would I have problems with my manhood, old man?” A deep voice barked in Cantonese.

  “Where’s the woman?” Another demanded.

  “A good question.” Mr. Lee chuckled. “I, too, would enjoy a woman. Perhaps you should venture to the corner. All sizes and shapes out there. I would go with you, except I have a shop to run and little money to pay. Those women always want more from an old man as it takes much longer than with boys like you.”

  There was a loud crash as if something large had been thrown to the floor, followed by the sound of breaking glass. Mr. Lee! Amber’s heart jumped into her throat.

  “I am not going to ask again. Where is the American woman?” A man snarled. “We know she came in here.”

  “I do not know, friend. As you can see, I am alone.” Mr. Lee’s voice was muffled as if he was face-down on the floor.

  “Beat it out of him!”

  No! Mr. Lee!

  Pounding and groans followed.

  She couldn’t let the old man be hurt. She grabbed the knife from her bag and ran into the room, surprising a Chinese man who held his boot on Mr. Lee’s neck.

  Holding the knife in front of her she said, “Let him go.”

  “Sure, I’ll let him go.” He gave Mr. Lee a sharp kick to the ribs.

  “Don’t!” Amber screamed and lunged toward the man. He blocked the knife easily and gripped her wrist so hard that he could snap the bones.

  "Do not harm her," Mr. Lee said and was rewarded with another swift kick.

  She struggled. It was no use. She wasn't strong enough to hang on and the knife soon clattered to the floor. The man spun her around under his arm and covered her mouth. “Stupid, stupid woman. You should’ve known better than to screw with the 14K.”

  She sucked in a terrified breath and smelled gunpowder on the man’s skin. The Triad 14K! That’s who Jacques was working for? Cutting her eyes over to Mr. Lee, she was horrified blood dripped from his head. He struggled to rise to his feet and was shoved back down. Her heart broke. Was he going to be all right?

  “You stole from us,” the man growled in her ear. “And now you will pay.”

  “That’s it,” Jenna pointed to an ornate blue and red gate. “Temple Street Night Market. This is where I’d go to hide.”

  The eXtreme Team surrounded her, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. Charlie was on the street side. Chinese people pushed and shoved him, but he refused to budge. His duty was to watch for hostiles in vehicles and monitor the comm for chatter.

  Mack nodded. “Hiding in plain sight. It’s good and crowded. Ty, recon.”

  “I’m on it,” Ty Whitehorse pushed ahead, getting lost in the crowds.

  “Charlie, picking up anything?” Mack asked.

  He shook his head. “Nothing yet.”

  Willy was on the building side, scanning for hostiles above. “Nothing here, either. Clear to go in.”

  “Tavon will…“ Mack began.

  “Watch your six. Got it, brother. We’ve done this before.”

  Charlie cut his gaze toward Mack. Tavon was right, their Lieutenant Commander seemed squirrely. That wasn’t like him. Was he worried about Jenna? He shouldn’t stress because Charlie wouldn’t let anything happen to her. In Colombia she’d been snatched by the militant guerillas on his watch. It wouldn’t happen again.

  Mack turned to Jenna. “You stay here, babe. Wait for us.”

  Jenna chuckled. “Yeah, right. You guys don’t know where to go and the way you look…” She cast an eye over the team, resting a long beat on Mack. They were all wearing jeans and tee-shirts with coats to hide their weapons. “You’d scare off the locals. They won’t open-up to gweilos. I lived here. My friends will talk to me.”

  “I’ll protect her,” Charlie said.

  Willy pounded him on the back. “Give it up. That ship has sailed.” He leaned closer and whispered, “She’s Mack’s girl, now. He doesn’t like to share.”

  He shrugged his brother’s arm of his shoulder. “I know.”

  “Good. I wouldn’t want Mack to pound sense into you. That’s my job.” Willy winked.

  “Sense? That’s a long word, William. And you used it in a complete sentence.” He socked Willy’s shoulder.

  “You still punch like a girl.”

  “Do you still shoot like—?“

  Mack stepped between them. “Ready to roll?”

  Charlie nodded, all humor gone. “Yes, sir. Let’s do it.”

  Mack led the way through the market with Jenna close at his heels. They passed food stalls of every kind. Live creatures wig
gled around cages and swam in water bowls. The stench overpowered Charlie’s nose. A man sat in the middle of a stall with hanging, bloody meat all around him and slurped an eyeball out of a fish head. How did people eat this stuff?

  “Around the corner,” Jenna said quietly. “Mr. Lee’s Teas. He’s a nice old man who has been here for years. I introduced Amber to him.”

  Mack opened the door to the tea shop and went in. A few seconds later, he cocked his head for them to follow. It was close quarters. Boxes and barrels of crap had been knocked all over the place.

  Charlie ran into Jenna. He might have grabbed her ass to stabilize her. “Sorry.”

  Mack threw him a dark look.

  “Mr. Lee!” Jenna raced around Mack and knelt beside an old man sitting on a wood barrel. He held a blood-stained cloth to his temple. “Your head!”

  “Ask him what happened,” Mack said.

  “He speaks English. Just give him a minute. Charlie, do you have water?”

  “Always.” He stepped forward and offered the old man a water bottle.

  As Mr. Lee drank, red water seeped through the corners of his lips. It didn’t look good to Charlie. The old dude might have broken teeth and a split lip.

  After wiping his mouth on his sleeve, Mr. Lee blinked at Jenna. “Lek Núi!”

  “Pretty girl. That’s his nickname for me.” Jenna hugged him.

  “Don’t beat the hell out of him, Mack. He’s an old guy and someone already had a go at it,” Willy said.

  Mr. Lee looked to be in his eighties. Who beats on old men?

  “What happened here?” Mack tried again.

  Mr. Lee stared as if Mack had two heads. He squinted to see all of them, but his eyes widened when they fell on Tavon. The man guarding their six was a freak of nature. If a black bull and the WWE’s Mark Henry had a love child, it would be afraid of Tavon. Hell, the man scared Charlie sometimes.

  “It’s okay, these are my friends,” Jenna said softly. “Go ahead. You can tell them.”

  Mr. Lee’s wide forehead wrinkled. He put his hand on Jenna’s arm. “You no get involved. Lek Núi. Very dangerous.”