Fredo's Dream: SEAL Brotherhood: Fredo

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Fredo's Dream: SEAL Brotherhood: Fredo Page 3

by Sharon Hamilton


  “For the record, Fredo. I’ve told you over and over again. Tell her. Don’t string it out. Tell her.”

  AFTER A GRUELING PT, Fredo begged off the stop for yogurt and decided to shop for something for dinner. Mia had said she’d be home a little later than usual since she had to take Ricardo for a well baby checkup and shots and had some shopping to do for one of the new SEAL babies born that week. He’d begged off accompanying her, not wanting to discuss the topic of having children.

  At the gourmet deli, he wandered down the meat counter aisle and selected a thick New York steak he and Mia could split. He searched the store, making sure no one he knew was watching him, then he made his way over to the produce department. He picked out a bunch of carrots, their long green tops flopping in his paws. After the carrots, he selected a colorful bag of medium chilis in red, green, orange and yellow colors.

  He saw a woman selecting some string beans, and he joined her, picking out those that were uniform and unblemished. He bought strawberries for dessert, passing on the other sweets nearby. On the way over to the cash register, he passed by the juice bar, which smelled to Fredo of freshly cut grass. It turned his stomach.

  The juice machine was screaming. A frothy orange-green plastic glass was handed to a patron next to him.

  “Would you like one, too?” the fresh-faced youth said cheerfully.

  “I don’t like it. Smells awful,” Fredo mumbled, waving his hand in front of his nose for emphasis.

  “Oh, no way. I guarantee you’ll like my juice. We have the sweetest carrots in all of San Diego County.”

  “That doesn’t look like carrots.” Fredo was referring to the greenish tint.

  “That’s spinach and a little celery. But I put apple in it too. Very yummy.” He began throwing things into the blender, and before Fredo could respond, handed him a greenish-orange mixture.

  “No, thanks, man.” He attempted to give it back to the boy.

  “Oh, come on. You chicken? This will curl the hair on your butt and grow your pecker a whole inch. Promise.”

  Fredo chuckled at the kid’s sense of humor, delivered straight.

  “I don’t need hair on my butt,” Fredo laughingly answered him, handing him back the glass.

  The boy wouldn’t take it. “Just one sip. I dare you. You don’t even have to pay for it if you don’t want to finish.” The kid leaned in for a shared secret. “But if you go home and find your pants are fitting just a little snug, well, you can thank me either before or after you see your wife.”

  Fredo did think of Mia. Despite his doubts, he took a generous gulp, so as not to appear weak. It actually tasted good. The two men shared a conspiratorial moment of understanding.

  “You come back tomorrow for one, and I know you’ll want to, and that one you’ll have to pay for. This one? It’s on the house.”

  Fredo tried to frown, but didn’t have the heart to lie. “Thanks.”

  He left the juice bar and found fresh nine-grain bread with the heavy seeds, the kind Mia liked to toast for breakfast. He also bought eggs, some tortillas, some cheese, and diapers for Ricardo. He selected a nice bottle of red wine and two six-packs of microbrew beer. At the checkout counter, he found some male enhancement vitamins and discreetly added them to the conveyor belt with his other purchases.

  Maybe tonight he’d serve Mia a nice steak dinner with string beans and green salad. She’d be impressed with that. He had lettuce and fresh tomatoes, and strawberries for dessert with whipped cream he’d snagged on impulse. Over the glass of wine after dinner, he’d gently tell her of his dilemma. He’d tell her he was sorry for keeping something so important from her. He’d ask for forgiveness.

  And no matter what her reaction, he’d love her just as much and hope that she loved him back with the same devotion. He thought she would. But the little niggling doubt at the back of his brain made him slightly nervous. He’d proven so much to her. He’d delivered on every promise he’d made her, except this one.

  He could love another man’s child. But he still could not give her one of his own. He hoped that was enough for her.

  THE DINNER WAS everything he’d expected. Mia was delighted with his attempt to put more greens in his diet, eat more healthy. She savored everything he prepared for her. He’d even told her he’d like to start cooking more, relieving her of some of the burden.

  Her mood was upbeat and grateful. Fredo poured the wine and thought he could talk to her about the test results. But before he could say anything, Ricardo began to whine and she excused herself to put him to bed. Fredo followed with a kiss to the youngster’s forehead, his chubby arms wrapped around his neck. He got three kisses back for every one he gave Ricardo.

  When he returned to the dinner table, Mia handed him his wine glass.

  “I like this new change in you, mi amore. You ply me with good food and wine. I intend to show my appreciation.” She gave him a sultry smile under heavily lidded eyes and delicately touched his glass. He watched her swallow her wine, the soft muscles in her neck looking so delicious. She licked her lips and raised her glass again. “Come on, my love. Drink up, and then I want you to fuck me all night long.”

  He was powerless to resist her. The wine was good, the ambiance perfect. He couldn’t wait to experience how she loved him.

  He’d decided so many times before to wait to tell her. What was one more night? Surely, he deserved being able to worship her body one more time, before he had to tell her the truth.

  Chapter 3

  ‡

  FREDO WOKE UP with a start. A loud explosion had rocked the little house. Ricardo started to cry, and though Mia jumped out of bed, Fredo beat her to their son’s bedside.

  After verifying the noise had nothing to do with the condition of Ricardo, he went about checking on the house. Nearly a minute passed before he heard sirens, and then he heard several more. He padded out to the front door and saw a grey plume of smoke rising into the pre-dawn morning air. Dogs barked all over the city as people came out of their houses in their bathrobes and slippers, runners stopped and checked their watches. Some checked their cell phones.

  Fredo grabbed his, seeing the panel light up.

  “Bomb at the Center. Don’t come yet.” The notice came from Kyle. Fredo knew he’d disobey that order without question. He nearly ran into Mia holding the still-crying Ricardo as he dashed to the bedroom to get his clothes on.

  “Fredo, my love. What is it?”

  “Bomb at the Center. I’ve got to go over there now.”

  “No, not alone. You get Coop, or call my brother, Kyle, or someone. Not alone, Fredo!”

  She had a good point. He dialed Coop first and didn’t get an answer. He’d already taken the man out of his wife’s bed once this week. He decided not to leave a message. He dialed Mia’s brother, Armando, one of the snipers on SEAL Team 3. Gina answered.

  “Hey, Fredo.” He could hear their little one crying in the background. “What’s up?”

  “I need to talk to Armani.”

  “He’s out for a run.”

  Fredo knew he’d have heard the explosion and was probably already on his way over to the blast site. “If he calls you, let him know I’m going over to the Center. There’s been a bomb or something that went off this morning.”

  “I heard that. Wish I could be more help. Want me to call the station to see if I can get any details? I’m not without friends still on the force.” Gina had retired nearly two years prior to raise a family with Armando.

  “Do that, and call me back if you’ve got anything.”

  “Sure will.”

  Fredo dialed Cooper again and again got voicemail. This time he left a message. “Coop, there’s been an explosion at the Center. I’m heading down there to check things out. I think Kyle’s on his way, but he told me to stand down. Hell, as if I’m going to do that. Just wanted you to know. I think Armani’s on his way as well.”

  Danny Begay had done a special training on bomb making, so he left hi
m a message too. He grabbed his keys and was nearly out the front door when Mia screamed at him.

  “Fredo! Your pajamas!” Her face was contorted in shock as she pointed to his groin area. He’d nearly left the house in the red, white and blue striped pajama bottoms he’d taken to wearing lately. And his navy blue slippers with the anchor stitched on top she’d given him for Christmas last year.

  He muttered his frustration to the floor as he kicked off the slippers, and jumped into a pair of jeans, leaving his white T-shirt on then stepped into his canvas slip-ons. At the door, he turned around again and headed for the closet, uprooting the carpet to find the gun safe. He quickly worked the combination but had to do it twice, then pulled his duty bag out quickly and slung it over his shoulder. He was out the front door all in less than two minutes. It was just like what they were used to over in camps in Afghanistan and East Africa, where time could mean the difference between life and death.

  His green beater backfired but groaned until it picked up speed and rounded the corner in a squeal of rubber. He didn’t have to check the rearview mirror to know he’d left a smoky trail.

  FIRE CREWS HAD arrived on the scene and were dousing the whole area with water, sending a sooty mist over everything. There was little fire that remained, but a lot of smoke as the classrooms at the old St. Rose School smoldered from the inside out. Fredo knew the paint in the arts room and paper in the computer learning center would be highly combustible. He also knew even if the computers hadn’t been touched by flame, the heat and smoke from the fire would claim them. Not to mention the water damage.

  A ragtag group of neighbors, many of them also in their bedclothes, huddled just outside of the chain link fence that “protected” the grounds. After he parked the truck, he saw Julio come running over to him. The youth grabbed him, clutching at Fredo’s shoulder blades and sobbing into his chest in an unusually emotional show of frustration and what Fredo picked up as fear.

  “It’s okay, Julio. We’ll get those sons of bitches,” he said squeezing the kid to him tight. Fredo had cycled into attack mode big time.

  Julio trembled. “Why? Why do they do this?” His bright blue eyes shone in the evening moonlight like he was lit from within. He sniffled and wiped his nose and eyes on his jacket sleeve. Fredo took out a foil packet Warrior Wipe he always carried around with him.

  “Because they’re assholes,” he said, ripping open the towelette and handing it to the boy. “All they want to do is tear down what they can’t build on their own.” He tousled the teen’s hair as the kid cleaned dirt from his face. “Come on, let’s go see what we can find out.”

  Fredo wondered how Julio had gotten so much soot on his face. He slung his duty bag over his shoulder, not daring to leave it in the truck. As they ran side by side, he glanced over to Julio to ask his question. “Did you see anything?”

  “Nah. Nothing, man. Just been a lot of punks hanging around.”

  “Punks you know or new guys?”

  “New guys. And they’re like new gangbangers. And there was this other weird guy.”

  “Weird? How do you mean weird?”

  “I don’t know, he just gave me the creeps.”

  “He hang out with the others?”

  “No. All by himself. The others I think are cashing in on a turf war.”

  “Explain.”

  “Because they fucked up Lorenzo, one of Sonny’s guys. Cut him all up and shit. Cut off his little finger, man.”

  “Who were they?”

  “I didn’t want to get too close to find out. I stay clear of that crazy group.” Then he abruptly stopped, grabbing Fredo’s arm. “Word on the street, Fredo, is Caesar is getting out of prison soon.”

  Caesar was the father of the boy Fredo was raising as his own, Mia’s former boyfriend. The timing of his release couldn’t have been worse. If there was a confrontation between the two of them, Fredo knew only one of them would survive.

  “When?”

  “Christmas? Maybe after New Years. His boys are getting testy, too. Taking over Sonny’s corners. I gotta get Lupe and Mama out of this place. Now with this, it’s gotten worse. It’s all fucked up, man. Feels like the place is falling apart.”

  Fredo wanted to ask more questions, but he needed to get to the scene first. Now he knew why Julio was so afraid. It was just like some of the places he’d seen overseas. The innocents never knew from which direction their enemies were coming, or whom to trust.

  There would be time for gathering information later. He completely agreed that Julio’s sister, who had a child by one of Sonny’s men, needed to find some other place to raise the baby. Julio’s mother was old enough to make up her own mind. Like Mia’s mother, Felicia Guzman, she was just as stubborn about leaving the old neighborhood.

  The two of them slipped through a breach in the fencing, which may have been the way the bomb makers had either arrived or escaped. Two units were pouring water on the old administration building, which had taken the brunt of the blast. A large brass bell from the tower fell to the pavement below as the structure collapsed on itself. The clanging noise could be heard over all the sounds of generators and equipment.

  A crew was breaking through the heavy metal doors and the gate that blocked the classroom hallways since the rooms were fully engulfed with flames licking up the sides of the two-story building. Fredo watched in horror as smoldering boxes of papers, printers, and computers were dragged out onto the blacktop and then doused with water.

  Danny suddenly appeared at Fredo’s side, making Julio jump with surprise. “I’m thinking they packed the admin building with the biggest charge, which makes no sense,” shouted Danny over the din.

  Fredo considered this. “You mean because the classrooms are what held all the valuable equipment and stuff?”

  “Yes. Almost like they didn’t know.” Danny squinted.

  “You think there could be more set to go off?”

  “Nothing that hasn’t already caught fire, unless they light up one of the surrounding houses. What a mess.” Danny shook his head in disgust.

  Fredo’s heart pounded. Revenge bubbled in his gut like thick black oil. He wanted to kill something, make someone pay. “Fuckin’ waste of time and money. Scum of the earth. They destroy their own community,” Fredo grumbled.

  “It’s a signature blast, Fredo. A calling card. Not meant to do anything but get TV time.”

  Julio had moved away, heading to the windows of the computer lab, trying to look inside. He was quickly detained by two huge San Diego police until Fredo could get there. Danny again appeared out of nowhere.

  “He’s not involved. I’m Special Operator Chavez. This is SO Begay. Our Team has sponsored this Center. This place is a SEAL Team 3 special project for the community. Julio here is one of the good guys from the neighborhood who helps us look after this place. Our eyes and ears.”

  One of the uniforms asked for identification and was shown both Fredo’s and Danny’s military IDs, which raised eyebrows. Julio wiggled his way loose to produce his library card, which was ignored. The officer holding him released the youth.

  “I’m Lieutenant Corcoran.” Without the formality of shaking hands, he continued. “The bomb squad can’t work the scene yet, so I’m afraid I can’t let you any closer.”

  “Understood.” Fredo noticed the bomb squad logo on the side of a white van parked nearby. “You think it started in the old admin building? Looks that way to me.”

  “What we have here, Mr. Chavez and Mr. Begay, appears to be one large device planted over where that tower dropped. We think the seat of the blast came from there. But looks to me like little explosive charges were also placed in the classrooms and were detonated by the main blast.”

  Fredo’s shoulder was gripped by a hand he recognized. Kyle Lansdowne, his LPO, was at his back. “Thought I told you to stay away, Fredo.”

  Fredo turned and gave him a defiant grin. “And you were dumb enough to think I would, right?”

  “A
t least you brought backup.” Kyle winked at Danny, and then addressed Corcoran. “Kyle Lansdowne. These are my guys. We’re just here to help, not interfere. What can we do for you?”

  Corcoran shook Kyle’s hand. “I was just saying we can’t let anyone in until the bomb squad finishes their investigation. You boys have any idea who would do such a thing?”

  “We’ve had some trouble with the local gangbangers,” said Fredo. “But we’ve sent a couple waves of them off to the University. The neighbors are your best bet. No one stays here on premises.”

  “Anyone with a grudge?”

  “Just punks,” said Danny.

  “Julio, tell them what you told me,” barked Fredo.

  The boy cleared his throat. “We seen new guys hanging around, you know, harassing. One of them cut up a local guy real bad.”

  “Who was that?” The officer was making notes.

  “I don’t know who the dude was, but Lorenzo Freitas only got nine fingers left.”

  “I remember that. Freitas, you say?” the officer asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Where is Mr. Freitas now? Would he have reason to believe this Center was somehow responsible for his trouble?”

  “He took off, man. No one’s seen him since.”

  “So where do these new guys live?”

  “No idea. They just come in, push their way around, stole a couple bikes, harassed the girls.”

  “You need to tell me, Julio. I didn’t know any of this,” scolded Fredo.

  “I’m telling you now.” Julio had developed a bit of an attitude.

  “Who else has seen these guys?”

  “Carla, and I think they came after my sister, Lupe.”

  “What did they say?”

  “Mostly they whistle and laugh. Ask around. Maybe someone knows. Ask my sister, Lupe.”

  Corcoran was being summoned back toward the smoldering ruins. Crews were beginning to put away their equipment. Water was being applied in one area, but several investigators descended over the scene. A couple FBI jackets were recent additions to the mix.

 

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