"Yeah, Levi, I believe you," she returned. "I'll talk to you soon."
"You bet you will. I'll text you when I can."
"I'll text back."
The line went dead, and she stared at her phone forlornly. In a quiet voice, she whispered, "I already miss you."
Chapter 3
A knock on the door caught the man's attention. With a grunt, he welcomed the intruder into his office. "Shipment," the newcomer reported then left. That should be the rifles, purchased on the black market. Thirty-six high powered guns complete with 2000 rounds each. He looked down at the desk and checked off another item.
24 days
"Whose turn is it? Please, don't say it's Hick's."
Reese "Toad" Harkins grunted. "It's Hick's."
"Didn't I tell you not to tell me that?" Alcide "Cowboy" Montgomery groaned. "I'll pay you fifty bucks to take his turn." He reached into one of the many pockets in his BDU pants, drew out his wallet and started to pull out bills. "I'd do it myself, but I've got duty. The only thing worse than his cooking is eating it cold."
Toad held his hand out and beckoned with his fingers. "Gimme. I'll open a can of beans for fifty anytime."
Hick reached over and snatched the bills from Cowboy's fingers with a grin. Folding them up, he tucked them into one of his brother's pockets. "Nah, you don't need to pay for dinner. I've got such a treat waiting for you, all of you will be begging for thirds."
"Dear Lord," Cowboy whispered. "The last time you said that I thought I was going to have to get my stomach pumped."
Hick stood and grinned at his fellow SEAL team members. "Don't worry, this will be amazing," he said with a wiggle of his eyebrows before he started to dig into the supplies stacked in the small shack they used as a base. Out of the six men that made up the SEAL team, Hick had the reputation of being the worse cook of the lot. The dishes he pushed at the others were at best indescribable and at worse, inedible. He snorted. If only they knew.
"MRE it is, then," Cowboy murmured as he pulled his pack over and rummaged inside.
"Yeah me too," Toad agreed.
"Already had mine," Hudson "Railroad" Houseman added. "Grab yours, Cowboy, and we'll go relieve the others."
"Aww, now, you guys are going to leave before chow's done? Suit yourself, that just leaves more for Bruiser and Finch," Hick pouted.
"We'll warn 'em," Railroad called out as he slung his pack onto his back. "They'll thank us for it."
Hick frowned as he glared at his friends. "You are going to hurt my feelings if you keep it up. I might stop offering to cook."
"If only we could be that lucky," Toad mumbled. He paused as Railroad threw his fist up making them all freeze in place.
"Company," Railroad hissed and disappeared out one of the windows.
As one, the three others adopted a stance of wariness, pulling their weapons around. A sharp whistle sliced through the room and they relaxed. "We were just about to come relieve you," Cowboy muttered.
Two figures materialized out of the darkness and stepped into the shack. “Hold up. We’re getting new orders,” the leader of their group, Grayson "Bruiser" Titus said as he dropped his pack to the dusty floor. Standing, he walked out of the shack and into the darkness talking quietly into the coms, passing Railroad as he slipped back into the room.
Beside him, Finch glanced around. "What's for chow?"
"Hick," Cowboy and Toad said together.
"MRE it is, then," Finch returned.
"Fine. Enjoy your MRE's. One of these days you’re going to be sorry you turned me down." Hick mock grumbled then dropped to sit on a thin wooden box propped against the wall. "I can turn anything into a work of culinary art, so don't whine if you miss out on a damned fine meal."
"We won't," the team replied together.
"Alright, listen up." Bruiser barked as he re-entered the hovel. "Intel for here is no good. Pack your gear. We're heading out in twenty."
"We’re getting evaced?"
Bruiser nodded at Hick. "Yep. This mission is a wash. They don't think he'll be back."
Finch swore softly. "The bastard gets away again."
Cowboy slapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Look at it this way; we dodged another bullet. At least now, we don't have to deal with Hick's cooking for a while."
"True that," Railroad muttered as he settled his pack between his shoulders.
"If you're done, I'd like to get there sometime tonight," Bruiser barked.
Toad leaned in and whispered to Cowboy, "I think this time away from his lady is getting on Bruiser's nerves."
"After everything Livy went through, I can understand him being anxious to get back home."
Bruiser's fiancée, Olivia had been kidnapped from her job and trafficked to a sadistic pervert who took her to his private island in South America. It had taken the entire team working together to find and rescue her.
"Yeah, I guess you're right. I'm glad we were able to get Livy back. Did you see the news about that bust in Houston? I wonder if those eleven men were part of the same ring."
Cowboy lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "Who knows? I think Digger has been working on it but last I talked to him, he wouldn't comment one way or the other." Lifting the heavy pack, he slung it onto his shoulders and settled the harness comfortably. "I just hope every one of those bastards gets what's coming to them. I can't get the image of those poor women treated like animals out of my mind."
Railroad nodded. "That's one thing they have in common with ISIS. Maybe human traffickers and these terrorists are from different cultures, but they both think women are possessions to be pushed around and treated like garbage."
Finch settled his pack on his back, and double checked the area. His eye fell on the makeshift kitchen Hick was scrutinizing and shuddered. "You know, if we ever catch one of Fedora's lackeys, we could just force-feed him Hick's cooking. I bet he'd tell us anything we wanted to know."
Fedora was the code name assigned to terrorist Haafiz al-Bashir, the current number three on the ten-most-wanted-list. The U.S. government had been actively hunting him for most of the last year, ever since he began his current run of activities.
Toad snorted. "That would be considered cruel and unusual."
"If you two are through?" Bruiser raised an eyebrow at them.
With a mumbled apology, the men filed out of the tiny hut. Even as the inky blackness swallowed them up, they could hear Hick whisper, "One day you'll all be surprised."
"Yeah, surprised you didn't poison us," Finch grunted, and they all laughed.
Even Hick.
As their plane crossed over into American airspace, Hick slid his cell phone out of his pocket and powered it up. While the device cycled through its startup routine, he looked around the cramped space. Finch, Cowboy, and Bruiser had their phones out staring at the screens while Toad and Railroad dozed. Cowboy's father was going through a medical thing, and Bruiser was anxious to hear from his lady, Olivia. His worried face melted into smiles as a soft ding of stored text messages filled the space. In contrast, Cowboy's face turned into a frown, and he quickly dialed a number then walked off to talk in private.
The rectangle in his hand buzzed, and Hick let his eyes fall to the screen. Though they had been gone less than a full week this time, his Georgia had sent several messages. Quickly, he entered his code and started to read through their last exchange.
Georgia: Too easy. The Silence of the Lambs. 'Tell me, Clarice. Have the lambs stopped screaming?'
Georgia: Well, the class went well. I only had twelve attendees, but it seemed to go well. I hate you had to leave before I got home. Stay safe and talk to you soon.
Hick: Great news. Of course, it went well. You're awesome like that. Next puzzle?
A picture of a torn heart and a hilltop took up the next line from her.
Georgia: Levi Salter! I am very capable of buying my own groceries. You know I don't cook at home. What am I going to do with all this stuff that was just delivered? W
ait until I get my hands on you!
Hick: I can't wait for you to get your hands on me. But the delivery - Most of that goes in your pantry. You know that empty little room beside your stove. It's for storing food.
Georgia: Ha, ha. 5,000 comedians out of work and you want to be one. Just answer the puzzle.
Hick: Too easy. Heartbreak Ridge. Seriously, Georgia? That's one of my favorites. Clint Eastwood as a gunny sergeant. 'Jumping out of a perfectly good aircraft is not a natural act. So let's do it right, enjoy the view.'
Hick: We're heading out. I'll get yours when I get back.
Georgia: You'll get my what, exactly? Just kidding. Keep your butt down and come home in one piece.
Hick: Will do. See you soon.
Georgia: What is baking powder and why do I need it? Where does it go?
Georgia: You know this stuff is going to go to waste? There's a reason my fridge is empty.
Georgia: I picked up a new client today. His name is Andrew Stinger, and he writes horror. Pretty fitting, don't you think? Stinger…Horror… He's self-published three novels over the past two and a half years and has gotten a fair amount of attention. Horror isn't my normal genre but how hard can it be?
Hick chuckled. He knew she hated horror movies and refused to watch them. He could almost imagine her sitting in the huge chair in her bedroom, lights all on with a blanket wrapped tightly around her as she reluctantly read Stinger's work. That was one thing he admired about her. Annabeth always made it a point to read every novel written by her clients, so she was well informed about plots, characters, and stories.
"Son of a bitch!"
Hick's head snapped up. Cowboy was pacing furiously in the tiny space. He stopped every few feet and slammed his fist into the fuselage. All attention turned toward their friend, even Toad and Railroad were awake, watching.
"You okay?" Bruiser asked.
Cowboy raked his hand through his hair. "Yeah. No. I don't know. Dammit!"
Bruiser stood and clamped a hand on his shoulder. "Your father?"
"Yeah. The treatment isn't working. Mom said the tumor is growing instead of shrinking."
"Damn. Anything we can do?"
Cowboy shook his head but looked at Bruiser. "She said they want to do surgery. I know this is a bad time with Fedora still in the wind, but do you think..."
Bruiser nodded. "Yeah. You worry about your Dad. I'll talk to Dixon and get the paperwork pushed through. You haven’t taken any time off in a while, so I don’t think this will be a problem."
Relief filled Cowboy's face. "Thanks, boss." He punched a few buttons on his cell and waited. "Hey, Ma," he spoke into the device. "I'll be there as soon as I can get everything squared away."
"Bruise? Can I talk to you a second?"
"Sure Finch, what's up?"
Hick turned his attention back to his cell and the messages Annabeth had left. She was so quirky and funny. She never failed to make him smile. As he finished, he checked the time. It was still early enough. He pressed the button.
She picked up the phone with a sleepy, "Hick?"
He chuckled. "Baking powder is made mostly of carbonate or bicarbonate and is used as a leavening agent. It makes baked goods rise and become fluffy."
"Uh, thanks? Are you home?"
He laughed softly. "We're back in the U.S., but I won't be home for a few hours yet. So, how're things? Staying busy?"
"Not too bad. You know, the normal stuff until the convention. Then it starts all over again."
"It's going to be in Phoenix, right?"
"Yeah." He heard rustling in the background followed by a yelp. Then a yell of, “Dammit, that's my toe.”
He laughed when she swore. “Good one. I’ll have you swearing like a proper sailor in no time.”
“Yeah, thanks but no thanks. So why did you ask me about where the convention was?”
"I thought that since you'll be so close, maybe we can get together."
He heard her voice hitch then she cleared her throat. "That depends. Are you going to buy a kitchen full of obscure cooking ingredients? Because if that's your plan, I'd have to bow out. When did you have the time to order all that stuff?"
Her exasperation was enduring. "I placed the order right before breakfast. I thought I was going to have a couple of days of pampering you. I had planned on making all sorts of stuff, but don't worry. I'll get my chance to cook for you soon."
Toad sat down next to Hick and pulled the cell phone from his hand. "Who are you threatening?" Putting the device against his ear, he asked, "Who is this and what did you do?"
"Give me my cell back. It's Annabeth." He grabbed for the cell, but Toad stood out of his reach.
"Annabeth? I thought you liked her. Why are you threatening her life?" He pushed a button and turned on the speaker. "Just say no, Bethy."
Her giggle erupted. "Hi, Toad. What can I say? I'm a glutton for punishment."
"Even a prisoner gets to be fed. And when I say fed, I mean things that are edible. Hick's food isn't anywhere near it."
"That's not true. He fixed me a lovely breakfast out of practically nothing. I'm still amazed at how he put together such strange things and making something that tasted great."
The look of alarm on Toad's face was priceless. "He fed you one of his concoctions, and you liked it?"
"It was delicious," she assured him.
Toad handed the phone back to its owner. "Well alright then. I've always heard when you find someone whose weird matches yours; you should hold on to them. There you go, Hick, both hands because she's obviously got an iron stomach and dead taste buds."
"It's not like that. Annabeth and I are just friends."
Toad snorted. "Yeah, sure, you fixed her breakfast which means you stayed the night. You call her as soon as we get back in the States. Every other thing is about her. It's pretty pathetic. Also, don't think we didn't notice you haven't dated other women since you two met last year."
Hick took the cell off handsfree and pressed it against his ear, ignoring his buddy. "Sorry about that, Georgia," he murmured. "That's just one of the disadvantages of spending so much time with this bunch. I have no privacy."
"Is what he said true?" Her voice had dropped until he covered his other ear with his palm to keep out the residual noise and hear her words.
"Is what true?"
"Is it true you haven't been dating since we met?"
Hick blew out a breath. How should he answer that? Their relationship was supposed to be light and unencumbered. He had thought about dating a few times but had given it up. How could any woman compare to his Georgia? But, if he told her how strongly he felt for her, it may run her off. Hick would rather have Annabeth in his life as a friend than not at all.
"Nah, he doesn't know everything. I've dated," he replied casually. "How about you?"
He heard the hesitation in her voice before she piped up. "Oh, yes, of course. You know how it is. I'm always so busy, by the time I get to a stopping place, I'm too tired to think straight.” She paused. “In fact, Andrew Stinger has asked me out. Normally, I don't socialize with my clients, but he seems interesting."
Something ugly boiled in Hick's stomach and he gripped the cell tighter. After all, they were just friends, weren't they? Gritting his teeth, he forced back the green haze of jealousy. "That's awesome. I'm sure you'll have a great time," he answered evenly.
"I'm sure we will." She hesitated a bit. "It's almost midnight, and I have a nine o'clock meeting in the morning. I should be getting to sleep."
"Oh, yeah sure. So, take care, and I'll talk to you in a few days, yeah?"
"Yeah. Good night, Hick. I'm glad you made it home safe."
"Good night, Annabeth."
As he pushed the button to disconnect the call, he felt the sudden need to throw his phone across the plane. Instead, he pulled up a browser and did a Google search on Andrew Stinger. The thirty-seven-year-old author of horror novels had that intelligent, arrogant look that Hick equated with arti
sts. His latest novel had hit several bestsellers lists, and he was recently picked up by a well-known publishing house. On paper, the guy looked great, and Hick couldn't fault her for wanting some stability in her life. That was something that he couldn't give her. Turning his phone off, Hick shoved it back into his pocket and leaned back. Closing his eyes, he silently cursed the situation. He wanted Annabeth for his own. He wanted it more than anything. He needed her in his life in a more permanent situation. However, the truth was the truth. Her job was in Atlanta, and his was in Cali. As long as he was in the SEALs, nothing could change. He had a minimum of another twelve years in the service before he could retire. By then, she would be past the age of having a family. Although she was a career woman, she had confided in him once that she wanted to be a mother someday and felt her biological clock ticking a little louder each year. He couldn't ask her to give up on her dreams of career and family to wait on him.
He knew all this, but it didn't help the bitter disappointment that filled his chest at the thought of his beautiful Georgia in the arms of another man.
Chapter 4
Twenty pounds of C-4 sat in the locked box under his desk. The shipment had taken longer than expected but it arrived well in advance. The maker would arrive in a few days. Payment was handled by order of the Left Hand. One more thing completed.
22 days
Andrew pulled out Annabeth's chair and waited for her to sit. Once he had returned to his seat, he nodded at the waiter standing by to take their drink order. Without asking for Annabeth's preference, he requested two glasses of wine. He gave her a brilliant smile before dropping his eyes and studying the menu. Although she didn't know much about wine, it still irritated her that he took it upon himself to order for her. What if she wanted something else? Gritting her teeth, she resolved to just go with the flow. It was just a couple of hours, right? She could do this.
Annabeth wasn’t sure exactly what had prompted her to accept Andrew’s insistence on a date. He was handsome and extremely intelligent. However there was something almost devious in his mannerism, and that threw her off. She had adamantly refused his advances until Hick reminded her in his nonchalant way of his continued conquests. It had hurt more than she would admit to herself but it had been a wakeup call. She couldn’t keep hoping that they could be more - that she could be more for him. So she called Andrew and accepted his invitation to dinner. Maybe if she told herself it was a business dinner, it would stop feeling so wrong to be here. She sighed heavily and concentrated on the menu.
Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Rescuing Annabeth (Kindle Worlds) (Team Cerberus Book 2) Page 3