Breaking Through (Book 2 of the SEAL TEAM Heartbreakers)

by Reasor, Teresa

  “You will do better than try. Otherwise, your daughter may have to be sacrificed. She is lovely. Almost as beautiful as your wife.”

  Rage shot blood into his face and made his ears ring. “You will not threaten my family.”

  “You knew there would be a price to pay.”

  Yes, he had. Allah help him. There always was.

  ***

  Muzzle flashes lit the darkness to the west, illuminating the silhouettes of buildings on the distant horizon. Though the bullets were blanks, the sound seemed all too real. Hawk drew a deep breath of the cold desert air.

  They’d worked their way across the hard-packed sand and taken cover. Now troops were tracking them. He’d been right. They were reliving their mission in Iraq And whatever sadistic SOB had ordered this was really pouring it on.

  “I’m getting tired of this shit, L.T.,” Doc said from beside him.

  The binding around Hawk’s knee simulating the injury he’d received while saving Brett provided a reminder he didn’t need. “We can’t call in an AC130 gunship to rain artillery on the guys, so we need to go to plan B.”

  “Which is?” Lang asked from beside Doc.

  “You’re going to leave me and Greenback here, and you and the men are going to work your way through the opposition while I hold down this position. Then you’ll swing around behind them and take them out.”

  “That isn’t how it went down, L.T,” Doc said, his voice flat.

  “Just because they’re ramming déjà vu down our throats doesn’t mean we can’t change history.”

  “There are at least thirty men out there. They’ll capture or kill you,” Langley said.

  “Not without a fight. This is the hard decision, Lang. If there’s no ground cover, and no out for you to escape with an injured man, what do you do?”

  “You don’t leave a man behind,” Lang growled.

  “You do if there’s a chance you can save the rest. And then you come back for him.” Gunfire came closer.

  The eyes of all four men settled on him.

  “This could have been the real deal. It’s always a possibility.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Lang asked.

  “The men will have to ditch their packs and move light. Does anyone have any flashbangs?”

  “I have a couple,” Doc said.

  “Me, too,” Jeff Sizemore, the new guy, spoke up.

  “Give me yours, Sizemore.” The Seaman handed the two canisters over.

  Hawk slapped a spool of trip wire into his hand. “Doc, take Sizemore with you and show him how to rig them as booby traps. I’ll have to set them off manually when the troops get into range. We just want to scare the shit out of the guys, not hurt them.”

  Doc’s grin flashed white in the darkness. “I’m on it. Come on, Jeff.” The two crawled out of the trench into the darkness.

  The sound of gunfire crept closer every minute.

  “The enemy was firing blind that night. It was pitch black. Chief Howard may have changed that scenario. That means you need to stay close to the ground and move fast.”

  “They’ll be bearing down on you pretty quickly. And there’ll be another unit moving in from the south,” Lang said. “I read your report.”

  He wasn’t going there. It had gotten hairy. “How you doing, Greenback?” he asked.

  With his head wrapped in bandages, his body secured to a makeshift stretcher, and an IV in his arm, Greenback looked very much like Cutter had that night.

  “I’ve never felt more helpless in my life. Not sure I like it, either.”

  “Roger that,” Hawk agreed. “Wish I’d won the coin toss instead. I could use a nap.”

  Greenback chuckled.

  Doc and Sizemore backed out of the darkness, one behind the other, as they each fed out trip wire.

  Hawk slapped Langley’s shoulder. “Get moving.”

  Doc shoved the wire into his hand. “They’re about twelve feet apart, fifteen feet out. You pull the first one, you may not need the next. We’ll be on them.”

  Hawk punched Doc’s shoulder. “Play for keeps, Doc.”

  “Roger that.”

  The men disappeared into the darkness. Hawk checked his weapon, turning it to full auto.

  “Do you think you could really make the same call if you had to?” Greenback asked.

  “Only if I didn’t have any other choice,” Hawk said. He remembered Zoe’s words during the short deployment they’d been called up on. Luckily they’d never left the base, but before he left, she’d held him close and whispered in his ear, “Do whatever it takes to come home. Whatever it takes.” He’d promised her he would. If this were a real mission, could he make the same decision?

  He prayed to God he never had to find out.

  Sporadic fire sped closer. The men playing the bad guys were taking their job seriously. He spied stealthy movement across the desert terrain at thirty feet. His NVGs revealed greenish shadows crouched and moving fast. He positioned his weapon and waited. If he fired too soon they’d pin down his position and be on him. He had to wait and give Lang a chance to work his way into position.

  His heart raced and sweat ran down his back despite the cold. Just like that night.

  Five guys, moving in sync, crept toward him. Fifteen feet was close. Shit.

  If the flashbangs were real grenades, they’d take out at least four and injure more. Would the men fall as though injured, as they should?

  Five more feet and he’d pull the pin on the flashbang. Four, three, two, one. He pulled the wire on the first grenade and turned his head aside to keep from being blinded. A loud pop sounded and all hell broke loose. Fire erupted to his right. He raised his gun and fired at the first tango that stepped through the smoke. Paint from the Simunitions round splattered the man’s vest and he fell, pretending to go down.

  Suddenly there were seven more there.

  Hawk pulled the other wire setting off the other flashbang and turned his face away so the flare wouldn’t impede his vision.

  Simunition rounds hit the back of the ditch he lay in. The percussion of the grenade popped.

  “Cover your face, Greenback,” he yelled as he rose out of the ditch and pulled the trigger on the M4, spraying the advancing men with fire. Blinded by the flash they returned fire but the rounds went wide. Florescent yellow paint bloomed on their vests one after the other, and they fell out of sight.

  “Hawk, hold your fire!” A voice came over his radio. The acrid smell of gunpowder hung in the air.

  Lang came through the smoke, his distinctively shaped jaw recognizable. “We caught them in a crossfire, Hawk. They’re down. The chopper is one minute out.” Sure enough, Hawk could hear the distinctive sound of helicopter blades echoing across the desert. Sizemore, Turner, and Doc came at a run.

  Once aboard the chopper, Hawk radioed back to the Chief Howard. Everyone had come through the simulated battle unhurt.

  The new men, Sizemore and Turner, high on adrenaline, were trash talking. Doc was freeing Greenback from the bandages and IV.

  “Those flashbangs were a stroke of genius. They weren’t expecting them,” Lang said.

  “Something to think about next time.” He smiled at Sizemore and Tyler’s high fiving. He had once been the new guy and remembered exactly how it felt the first time you kicked ass.

  “Senior Chief Thornton will want to debrief us as soon as the other men arrive back at base.”

  Hawk nodded. He set aside his rifle to unwrap his knee.

  “You know how many guys we took out, Hawk?”

  “No. I counted eight from where I stood.”

  “There were twenty-five. And you took out almost a third, without getting hit.”

  “They were blinded by the flash.”

  “A third. That’s fucking amazing.”

  It was amazing no Simunition rounds had hit him. The trainees would get hell tomorrow because of that.

  “If it keeps Senior Chief off our asses for a while, I’ll be f
ine with that.”

  “Copy that.”

  And he’d kept his promise to Zoe. Even in a simulated fight, he’d made sure he’d come home to her alive and well.

  ***

  Brett settled in one of the deck chairs on the small balcony, enjoying the lingering smell of outdoor-grilled steaks. He studied his mother’s face and smiled. Her skin had taken on a light tan and she looked … different somehow, but he couldn’t quite define what about her had changed.

  Spending time with her was both stressful and relaxing. Relaxing because he was always assured of her unconditional love. And stressful because he was so tempted to come clean about what was happening in his professional life. He couldn’t dump his problems on her, not yet. Not until it became a code red and he had no choice. But keeping it to himself was a form of lying, and he felt guilty every minute they spent together and he didn’t come clean.

  “I haven’t been neglecting you, have I, Brett?”

  Surprised by the question he leaned forward. “Geez, no, Mom. You’ve been great.”

  “I just worry that I haven’t been spending as much time with you as I should.”

  Brett grinned. “I haven’t been around much. In fact, I was feeling the same way about you.”

  Clara smiled. “Maybe we can make a date. I’m pretty booked up this week, but say next Tuesday, if you’re off, I’d love to drive up the coast and take some pictures.”

  “I think I can arrange that.”

  “When do you think you’ll be getting orders?” she asked.

  He laced his fingers together. “I don’t know. My CO’s still dragging his feet.”

  Clara was silent for a moment. “He’s still testing you, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugged and fought to keep his tone light, though bitterness edged in. It didn’t look like Jackson would grow a pair any time in the immediate future.

  Clara reached between their chairs and grasped his hand. “As a mother, my instinct is to march on base and kick Captain Jackson’s ass. But I don’t guess that will help anything.”

  Brett laughed. “No. But I could sell tickets and make some cash.”

  Clara smiled. “Your speech glitch is better. I can tell. It’s helped you being on post, hasn’t it?”

  “Yeah. The more I concentrate and use my training, the easier it comes.”

  “Good. This time isn’t wasted, honey. You’re regaining your balance more every day.” She squeezed his hand and released it.

  “I know.”

  She glanced at her watch. “I’m going to the movies with a friend.” She got to her feet.

  “Anybody I know?” he asked

  “Yes. Dr. Connelly. We’re dating a little.”

  The studied casualness of the way she said it set off battle station alarms. “Define a little.”

  “We’ve been going out three or four times a week. Just eating together and doing casual things.”

  Four times a week wasn’t dating just a little. That was leading up to seeing each other every day. And how many times a day were they calling one another?

  “I told you about his son, Evan.”

  “Yeah.”

  “He isn’t doing well.”

  The catch in her voice had the volume of those alarms escalating.

  “I know how tender-hearted you are, Mom. You’re not getting too involved, are you?”

  She paused before speaking. “He’s such a sweet boy. We’ve become friends.”

  Meaning yes. Shit.

  “Russell’s concerned that something has happened between Evan and his mother. She hasn’t contacted him since he got here. I can’t imagine not speaking to you or at least getting an email from you every week. Even when you’re out of touch, you let us know you’re okay in some way. And since he’s so desperately ill—”

  “Define desperately, Mom.”

  “He’s dying, Brett. He has AIDs and he’s dying.”

  Her bleak expression made it worse. Jesus! His mom really cared about this kid.

  “I thought I’d told you.”

  “No, you didn’t tell me.” He struggled to keep his tone even. “You’re being careful, aren’t you? I mean—”

  “I’m not being exposed to anything that could make me ill. Evan is very careful. And so is Russell.”

  What the hell did she mean by that? Every protective instinct was screaming. His heart thundered against his ribs, and his face burned with anger. “This guy isn’t taking advantage of you, is he? Like using you as a caregiver or whatever?”

  “No, Russell has hired a nurse to come in three days a week while he’s at the hospital. He’s cut back on his hours so he and Evan can spend time together.”

  “And he’s making time with—for you, too?”

  She folded her arms against her waist. “Breathe, Brett. You’re getting worked up for nothing.”

  Bullshit. “I’m concerned you’re setting yourself up to get hurt, Mom.”

  “Honey, just living can hurt. After your father died, I didn’t want to live. The only thing that kept me going was my love for you and your sisters. Retiring has given me a new perspective on things. I’m fifty-five years old and I’m alone.”

  “No, you’re not. You still have us.”

  “But I need more, Brett. Your sisters have more. I’m hoping you’ll have more than just your job one day, too. I can’t bury myself in work anymore, honey. I’ve done that for more than twenty years. It’s time for me to explore other options now.”

  “So you’re exploring with Connelly.” God, he sounded so jealous. Of course he wasn’t jealous, he was concerned for her.

  “Maybe a little. We have a lot in common. And we’re both single. Why shouldn’t we?”

  Every argument he came up with sounded selfish as hell.

  Are they sleeping together? Oh jeez. Can’t go there.

  “I’ve even sold some of my photographs, Brett. Imagine that! I just uploaded them to a couple of sites and they’re selling.”

  “That’s wonderful, Mom. You haven’t shown them to me.” Was that accusation he heard in his voice?

  “They’re on your computer. I left them on there so you could see them.”

  What kind of pictures could she have taken that people were purchasing them? “I haven’t been on the computer here, just at work.” He hated when he had to make excuses when he should have been on top of all this. “I’ll check them out.”

  Where the hell had he been while she was starting a new career and having an affair?

  Not an affair. His dad had been gone a long time. And as far as he knew she’d never allowed anyone else close. Why now? And why Connelly?

  He felt like hunting the guy down and beating the shit out of him.

  “I need to go, honey. I don’t want to be late.” She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight.

  “Be careful, Mom.”

  “Always.”

  She was such an easy mark. Her heart was right there for the pickings. If this guy hurt her, he’d … take him out.

  As soon as the door closed behind her, he reached for his cell phone. His hand shook as he scrolled down to Zoe’s number and punched it.

  “What the fuck is going on with Mom?” he demanded when she answered.

  Zoe was silent for a long moment. “Hello to you, too.”

  “Sorry, I’m just a little—” he ground his teeth, “surprised.” This is so messed up. “She says she’s dating my doctor.”

  “He’s not your doctor any more. And yes, they’re seeing quite a bit of one another.”

  “Well? What the hell is going on?”

  After another long pause, Zoe said the last thing he wanted to hear. “I think she’s in love.”

  After ending the call, Brett paced the floor, restless and strangely anxious. The urge to call Tess and talk to her was strong. He shoved it away. She didn’t know his mom. Hadn’t gotten to know her enough to care about her. Why would she want to hear about this shit? She wouldn’t. But
having her here would be a distraction. If she’d come.

  And why the fuck was he so driven to share things with her? He’d never been that way before.

  Maybe that bump on the head in Iraq had done something to him. He rubbed his hand over his head, roughing up his hair.

  She listened to him. Really listened. Her eyes would focus on his face as though he was the only person on the planet and it just … drew him in.

  He picked up the cell phone again and punched the number.

  “Hey,” he said as soon as she answered. “How about some ice cream?”

  She laughed. Then fell silent for a moment. “I’d love some.”

  He scooped up his keys from the breakfast bar. “I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes.”

  ***

  Tess rushed to change from sweats into white shorts and an off-the-shoulder gold tank top. She tossed a sweater on the bed next to her purse. If Brett put the top down it might be chilly. She went into the bathroom to freshen her make-up.

  She stared at herself in the mirror. The heavy, excited thump of her heart, coupled with the shine of emotion in her eyes gave her pause.

  “What am I doing?”

  Afraid of the answer, she focused on applying blush, then smoothed on a light touch of lipstick, brushed her hair and secured it with a black clip.

  When Brett knocked on the door twenty-five minutes later, her heart leaped. “I’m in trouble. This is trouble,” she said to herself even as she rushed to let him in.

  She opened the door. A slow smile curved his lips and his eyes seemed to eat her up. Every nerve in her body clamored for him to wrap his muscular frame around her.

  “Come in.” Those two words had never sounded so suggestive to her.

  “What did you do with the thong panties and phone number I gave you?” he asked.

  A dropping sensation hit her stomach. Had he lied? Was he harboring an interest in the girl? “Why do you want to know?”

  “I’m just curious.”

  Her chin jerked up. “I threw them away.” Was that a touch of defensiveness in her voice? She needed to do better than that.

  Brett’s brows rose. “Is that all?”

  If she told him she’d pretended to be his girlfriend on the phone, he’d read too much into it. Her cheeks heated. “I called Candy and explained to her that if she wanted a boy’s long term interest, she needed to play a little more hard to get next time—with a younger man. And that she should put a higher value on what she’d offered you.”