They brought them in and agreed that it was time for a boat drill. Going back outside, they picked up the couch, hefted it over their heads, and trotted down the street as if it were one of the water-filled boats from their BUD/S training. Humping it along the path until they got to Dan and Aria’s place, they hefted it over the fence and through the patio into the open back door. As they placed it in the only spot available, it was clear the size completely overwhelmed the room.
JC waited until they were outside before he whispered, “Trying to compensate for something with that huge couch? You could’ve just gotten some tight shorts, you know.”
“At least I have some size,” retorted Dan.
“Too bad I have to put both of you to shame,” added Hammer as he headed back in with the side table. “Where you want this?”
“Against the far wall, facing the bay,” instructed Dan.
JC picked up one side of the recliner. “Are you going to stand there or help me?”
“Aw, can’t I just admire your muscles?” Dan grinned.
“Only if you must,” said JC as they lifted the chair and brought it into the house.
“Keep going. There’s no room in the house. Take it to the patio,” said Dan in a hushed voice. They took it out back and faced it toward the water. It would be protected somewhat by the patio overhang. Too bad they couldn’t fit it in the house. This chair would have been perfect for relaxing in front of the television.
Lastly they tackled the outdoor furniture. Dragging the lot of it to the back of the house, they locked the front door and used some of Hammer’s tools to screw the damn pieces together. It was midnight by the time they finished.
“Thanks,” Dan said as they slapped hands and parted ways. They hopped the fence and raced each other to their cars. “Maniacs.”
Looking out into the night, he wondered what was in store for him and his new wife. He knew Aria was being bombarded with a lot of newness, but now that they had a fourteen-year-old boy to watch over, it was doubled. He didn’t doubt the experience was going to be a handful. Heading back inside, he locked the patio door, picked up his keys and a piece of paper he’d taken note of on the counter, and went out the front.
Opening the car door, he slid inside and started the ignition. He had to be on base in four hours. There was still plenty of time to stock the refrigerator. He’d find a 24/7 grocery. It was the least he could do to help.
***
Morning came too quickly. The alarm on his watch beeped and Dan saw he’d been able to catch about two hours of sleep. “I’ve functioned on less.”
Rolling off the couch, he decided it was pretty comfortable.
He traced a path into the kitchen in the dark. Pulling open the refrigerator, he withdrew three eggs, cracked them into a cup, added some Tabasco sauce, and downed it. Next he filled up his glass with milk, drank it down in several gulps, and took an apple from the crisper.
He scrawled a quick note to Aria, grabbed his keys, and ate the apple on the way to his Mustang. He resisted the urge to open the bedroom door and check on his sleeping wife and her brother. He’d talk to the XO and see if he could get a few days off. There were several weeks of time coming to him. Thoughts of taking Aria on a whirlwind vacation would have to wait…possibly years.
***
Dan flashed his ID at the ocean entrance and drove around the buildings until he reached the far side of Team THREE’s Quarterdeck. He parked the car and then pulled off his sweatshirt. After tucking his car keys into his pocket, he placed his ID into a holder and secured it to his arm.
He didn’t want to take the time to change into his PT clothes. He often ran in whatever he was wearing. This was going to be one of those times, because right now he just wanted to feel the wind in his face.
Heading toward the path, his feet picked up the pace. The rhythmic slap of his feet lulled him. Images flashed through his brain: Aria with her haunted eyes; Jimmy, who looked so small tucked in their bed; and himself, long ago.
He wasn’t an ordinary kid. The son of the district attorney, he was the kid who had been required to take karate since he was three years old and experience home-invasion drills since he was five. How could someone strike so much fear into a child, making him constantly afraid?
Nothing comforted him in the dark. He’d go three or four nights without sleeping, and then exhaustion would take its toll and he would lock himself in his bathroom, where he would sleep for three or four hours, tucked into a corner under the window. He’d been taught to always have an escape route. He dreamed of someone breaking in and his having to yank open the window, do a high-wire act on the big branch outside, and climb down the tree. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t a fan of heights or that the window weighed almost as much as he did. That was the plan.
Just thinking about it made sweat burst out in thick drops on his brow. Quickly, he whisked it away with his fingers.
When his sister was born, he started sleeping on the floor of her room. Armed with a heavy toy train engine—that was his weapon to fend off the bad guys—he guarded her.
Those bad men… Like a warped cartoon reel, the faces scampered through his mind, the ones plastered on the nightly news, often vowing horrific revenge on his father and his family. Undefined violence, those unknown possibilities, sent dreadful images dancing before his eyes.
On that fated day, the one that changed everything, Dan was walking home from school. His mother had been late picking him up. Sometimes, if she had been at lunch with her friends, she was too “sick” on pickling juice to meet him.
Home was only a quarter of a mile away, and he decided to hoof it that day instead of waiting for the nanny. Next year he’d be entering the sixth grade, and it made him feel older, wiser.
Rounding the corner, he saw the door to his home wide open. He dropped his books on the lawn and sprinted inside the house.
He found a man in their kitchen, looming over his mother and sister. Their faces were tearstained, and a red mark was outlined on his mother’s cheek. The intruder lifted his hand to hit Caty.
“Stop!” yelled Dan.
The intruder spun on him. “Well, well, well…you must be the son. I’m sure Daddy wouldn’t want to see you hurt.” The man grabbed his arm and twisted it.
Pain spread through his shoulder, but Dan just gritted his teeth. “What do you want?”
“I want to make sure your father knows that there are consequences when you mess with my friends.” He picked up a knife from the kitchen counter.
Time seemed to slow and a sense of quiet calm surged through Dan’s mind. Just as he’d learned in class, he twisted out of his captor’s grasp, then took him out at the knees with a well-placed kick. A sharp jab while the man was down snapped his head back. It bounced off their floor and he was out cold.
“Caty, run upstairs and lock the door,” he ordered, then moved to the phone and called the police. By the time the officers arrived, he was upstairs with his sister, holding her close.
No one asked who hurt the intruder. Everyone assumed it was his mother.
His father knew the truth. The reason this criminal was in their home was his fault. But his father neither said anything nor confronted the fact that his son’s life would never be the same. All he cared about were appearances and that his son turned out like him. Being an uncompromising dictator was not what Dan wanted. He needed someone to know what his soul dreamed of and to love him for it.
The next morning, he called his grandfather, asked him to come get him. Then he went downstairs and told his dad he was going to live with his grandfather. He was determined to bring his sister out of this nightmare, too. One thing was for sure, he vowed, no one would ever hurt him or what was his, and he would do everything in his power to protect his family and those who could not protect themselves.
Dan shook himself out of the memory. A cold sweat chilled his skin. He took in his surroundings, noticing he had already run ten miles. Dawn was stretching its finger
s toward the ocean.
Making a tight circle, he turned around. It was time to head back to the base.
Aria only knew part of the story, that he had been threatened as a kid. She didn’t know about the horrible relationship he’d had with his father or why he had gone to live with his grandfather. How it all started with an intruder and a vow that led to him wanting to join the military—this was stuff he needed to tell her. He had eventually brought his sister with him, too, and then sued for emancipation when his grandfather died of a heart attack, and together they had finished growing up. Maybe that was why he felt as if he understood Aria. She’d had to do a lot of self-raising on her own.
Self-defense and weapons were a part of that world. They were as dangerous or safe as the person that wielded them. He knew how easily they could kill, and he also knew how his training had saved his life and those of his sister and mother.
After all that, there was still all the crap with his parents and how they had tried to buy Caty and him back again with the lure of paying for college, but it didn’t work. He and Caty were capable of figuring it out on their own…and they had.
These were some of his secrets…the darkness and light that dueled in his soul. He’d lost his childhood in that one event. And his self-consumed jerk of a father—what would his wife say to that and his promise to be nothing like his own parents?
Aria had been lucky to like and love her parents. When she talked about them, their attributes and values were a lot like his. He’d be thrilled to be similar with his kids.
Damn, kids were a lot to think about, but they both wanted them.
A book he’d read as a teenager about UDTs—Underwater Demolition Teams—had led him to SEAL Team. When he joined up and made it through boot camp and BUD/S, they helped him, taught him, and forced him to work within an ethos. That healed a part of him. He honored that with his life and soul. His duty wasn’t just a set of responsibilities, it was his reason to exist. Fighting for liberty and happiness…he would do anything to maintain those freedoms, and no one needed know what it cost him. As long as he could do his job, he would.
Taking the well-worn path onto the base, he double-timed it to the Platoon Building. Keying in the correct code, he opened the door wide and took the stairs two at a time until he reached the landing. Then he keyed in another set of security codes and let himself into the locker room. He unlaced his shoes, stripped off his clothes, and dropped them in front of the cage that housed his stuff. He could hear other guys in the showers already, preparing for the day ahead.
***
Dressed in the Spec Op digitals, Dan checked his appearance in the window’s reflection before he opened the door and entered the Team THREE Quarterdeck. He was determined to touch base with the XO before he joined his Team in the conference room.
In the hallway, he ran into Admiral Josh Winters, CO Commander Brian “Duckie” Diggins, and XO Chuck “Ox” Parker. He acknowledged them formally. “Admiral Winters, good to see you again, sir. Commander. XO.”
“Mac, how’s married life?” asked the CO. “Sorry we missed the wedding. My girls had a dance recital. You’ll learn how that goes soon enough.”
The XO grinned. “Yeah, me, too. We were at the boys’ baseball game. They did a great job—six and zero this season, thus far.”
The Admiral cleared his throat. “McCullum, congratulations on making Chief. I heard your last mission went well. When can we expect that After Action Report?” The other men looked at him, and the casual banter separated like whiskey and water.
“I submitted mine yesterday, Admiral.” Dan didn’t mind being put on the spot—he was notorious for dotting his i’s and crossing his t’s—and as far as Dan knew, everyone on the Op had completed their required reports.
The Commander spoke up, taking charge of the conversation. “We’ll make sure it’s on your desk today, Admiral.”
The Admiral gave a brief nod and walked away.
The Commander and XO exchanged glances and then turned their attention back to Dan. A lot was said in that look, and Dan didn’t need a decoder ring to know that the Admiral was concerned about something critical.
“Good job in identifying that woman in Ru’s presence as being part of the terrorism cell that killed Sandra Niang,” Duckie commented.
“Yeah, I’d like to be part of the Op that takes the root down.” Dan’s jaw clenched. They’d nailed the man who shot her, but it didn’t stop the group’s poisonous effects from spreading.
“Duly noted,” replied Duckie.
Unfortunately, Dan had to broach another topic. “May I speak briefly? My wife’s uncle died in an automobile crash yesterday, and we are now charged with raising her fourteen-year-old brother. I’d like to take some time off to help her out and get things settled.”
The Navy took the family unit very seriously. They needed their sailors on task, and at times that meant they only had a short intense period of time to concentrate on family-unit issues.
“Condolences. When is the funeral?” asked Ox.
“I don’t know.” Dan wondered if Aria would need to go back to the mountains. “I’ll find out if Aria wants to go back to Dorset to have a wake with his friends there.”
“Vermont?” asked the CO. Dan nodded.
“The Ombudsman, uh, Crocker, can lend a hand. Help you sort through the details and provide support. Make sure you contact him.”
Dan watched his CO and XO closely. Finally, the XO spoke. “We need you on tomorrow’s training mission. It shouldn’t be too lengthy. We’re reviewing and practicing the tactics for the next mission. Your particular skill set, Mac, will be crucial.”
The CO picked up the thread from there. “If you can hold off on your plans, go on this jaunt and the upcoming jump, then we can give you some time off afterward. Would that work for you and your family?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.” He felt the phone vibrate at his hip. It was JC’s code. He needed to hightail it to another briefing. The session had already started and he was late.
The CO patted him on the back. “Our condolences to Aria, Mac. I’ll be talking to you.” That was polite speak for “You’re all set, so get going.”
Dan didn’t need a kick in the ass to move. He set his course for JC and the briefing.
His eyes tracked the CO and XO who’d began talking before the door even was closed. “This is going to be a dicey one,” said Ox. “We need to verify the Intel again, before they—” As the heavy door clicked shut, their voices became an indecipherable and steady drone.
Dan would have given anything to be in there. He wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, but he knew it was hot. Because it had brought the Admiral onto Team THREE’s Quarterdeck, and usually the world went to him.
Chapter 8
The past week had been a blur. Grief and anger consumed her, but Aria was more focused today. Jimmy had started school, and she had been able to throw herself into her work.
Dan had been gone for several days. It was becoming the norm: sporadically home and then without warning gone again. She had been reluctant to talk to anyone else about her real feelings… Maybe she was too private for her own good.
Phone calls had flooded the new landline. Her message machine logged calls from several of the SEAL Team wives—women she had met for the first time at her wedding—in addition to the Ombudsman and many of Uncle David’s friends from Vermont. She hadn’t returned any of the calls, not even to Mark, who had loaded her cell phone with text messages. She was too overwhelmed…trying to keep her emotions locked tight in their mental-construct containers.
Uncle David’s friends back east had taken care of the funeral arrangements. At some point she would have to go deal with his house, now hers and Jimmy’s, but not now.
Dan’s ringtone chimed from her cell, and she lunged for the phone. Clicking the answer button, she said breathlessly, “Hello.”
“Hey, babe. I just wanted to share a morning squeeze with you and wish you a gre
at day. I miss ya and love ya.” Dan’s voice cut off and the phone went dead. It had been a voice mail.
She played it again and then wished she hadn’t. Regardless, she clicked Save on her phone and placed her head in her hands and wept.
I need to get out of this rut or I’m going to go crazy! I miss that man way too much. Where’s my independence? My backbone? My capacity to live life fully every day is required. You’d think he’s the only reason I can exist.
Then she went back into the dining room, emptied the rest of her things into the big hall closet, and cleaned the room…until the smell of disinfectant was so strong it made her dizzy. Grabbing her keys and purse, she unlocked the front door, opened it wide, and there stood Hammer Cody’s wife, Hannah.
“Hi, Aria. Sorry to intrude… When you didn’t answer, I got concerned.” She held a casserole dish in her hands. “This is homemade macaroni and cheese. It’s pretty basic. I used Cheddar, Swiss, and Gruyère.” Hannah gestured to the bag hanging from her arm. “There’s a small sliced ham—you just need to heat it up whenever you’re ready. Oh, and a bag of fresh apples from Julian. Have you been up there yet? Great pie.”
Aria didn’t know what to say. She stared at the willowy woman wearing blue jeans, a Life Is Good T-shirt, and sandals and sporting an uncertain-looking smile. Finally, it dawned on her she was being rude. “Come in.”
Hannah headed straight for the kitchen. She laid her items down and then immediately put the food in the refrigerator. “You’ll want to heat the macaroni at 350 degrees for about twenty to thirty minutes. Whenever the top bubbles, it’s done.”
“Would you like a cup of tea?”
“That’d be great.” Hannah helped herself to a seat at the end of the island. She wiggled on the stool and then looked down. “Michael was right. These are nice looking. Did you find them online?”
Aria nodded. “Please thank him for me. I didn’t realize everything…would happen the way it did. Hammer was kind to help out.” She took two mugs and her stash of different flavored tea bags out of the cabinet.
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