Fredo's Dream: SEAL Brotherhood: Fredo

by Sharon Hamilton

  “And that’s how it’s done,” Coop said as they high-fived. They both slung their duty bags over their shoulders and with the rest of the Team headed back to the Suburbans waiting for them at the park entrance.

  It had been a stellar morning. Still plenty of time for lunch and maybe a beer or two if they didn’t have to go patrol or do some intel. No one in the world would understand what his days were like, or what kind of a man he’d become. There wasn’t any way to explain what it felt like to kill, to not have the slightest doubt he was doing something good and honorable, and that he got to do it with his best friends, men who would die for him anytime. There was no way to explain that and never would be.

  He looked at Coop’s tall gangly frame walking down the hill, a shitload of firepower in one bag and enough medical supplies to treat the entire squad in his other. He could drop and take a man’s leg off with a pocket knife in a minute, tie off the veins and get him on his way, albeit with help. He could rescue a child and shield that child with his body gladly, maybe at the cost of his own life. In a million years, he’d never expected to have a friend who looked or acted like Coop, who came from the other side of the tracks and with whom he had both nothing and everything in common at the same time.

  It was what they shared as brothers, this high intensity mission not many could execute. He felt like the luckiest man in the whole world.

  Chapter 21

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  IT WAS JUST past daybreak in San Diego when Fredo was able to get a call to Mia.

  “So is everything okay, mi amore?”

  Fredo actually cracked a grin. If he told her the truth, she’d never believe it. He wanted to say something deep and meaningful, but the truth was, he was going to get shit-faced if Kyle said they were done and headed home. He couldn’t tell her that either. He couldn’t tell her he’d just blown up three guys in a car and enjoyed watching as all their body parts went flying over the grounds, that a cook was hiding in the kitchen, or that the Secretary of State was dead, because the news hadn’t picked that up yet. He could make some stupid shit up, which wouldn’t be fair. So he didn’t have anything to say, and yet he had everything to say.

  “I’m good.”

  “So, no bad guys, no big fights?”

  He grinned again. It would be so much fun to mess with her. He’d wait and do it when he got home, and then he’d spend the entire evening making it up to her. Now, that gave him an idea.

  “I got a stiffy.”

  “Really?”

  “You think I’d lie about that? I never lie about stuff like that. I’m wishing you were here, Mia. Honest I am.”

  “If only.” Then she laughed that little laugh he loved. “You’re pulling my leg.”

  He grinned again, and yup, got even harder. “Oh man, that is such a lovely thought. I’d could just pull that lovely leg of yours right out from under the comforter, pull your naked body all over me, and I’d let you do whatever you wanted to do to me. Honest, Mia.”

  She obviously liked that. It made him happy to distract her.

  “So, you are coming home soon, then?”

  “We’re on call. Nothing going on this afternoon, but you never know.” If she asked him again, he’d have to get a little firm with her. She knew she wasn’t supposed to ask. “How are you feeling?”

  “Lonely.”

  Fredo sat down in the cushioned wicker chair out on the veranda, overlooking the blue waters offshore. A loud horn blasted from one of the cruise ships leaving port.

  “What was that?”

  “I farted.”

  She laughed. “So you’re at the dock, then. Watching the ships? You having an umbrella drink?”

  “Something like that,” he lied, but oh, how he wished. He wished she was there with him. That they were eating oysters and shrimp and drinking Tequila and waiting for Round No. 2 or Round No. 3. She’d be completely naked, of course.

  “Actually, I’m drawing on a beer.” At least that was accurate. “So how’s Ricardo?”

  “Oh, you want to talk to him? He’s right here.” Fredo heard Mia waking the toddler up. “It’s your dad, Ricardo. Want to talk to him?”

  Fredo could hear the little one enthusiastically grab the phone.

  “Papa! When are you coming home? I want to go to the park and play some baseball.”

  “I will be home soon. You taking good care of Mama?”

  “Si, Papa. Hey, Papa? We’re having a baby. Did you know?”

  “Of course I know. I’m excited. How about you?”

  “Yes. A brother. Not a sister. Girls are no good.”

  Fredo knew that probably came from Ali, from the conversation the other night. “Listen, Ricardo. I need you to be extra careful and look after Mama. You are the man of the house now.”

  “I will. Papa, when are you coming home?”

  “Soon, Ricardo. Very soon, I hope. Not long at all.”

  “Here’s Mama.”

  Fredo heard him wiggle his way out of Mia’s bed. She was in the habit of letting him sleep with her when Fredo was gone.

  “I’m so sorry, Fredo. I think he has to pee. I’m bringing the phone. I have to ask you something.”

  Fredo heard the echoes in the bathroom, Ricardo’s objection to having to sit on the potty seat, and the sound when Mia dropped the phone on the floor once. Then he heard Ricardo peeing. He didn’t mind hearing all the normal things about being home he was missing, all the little things a family experienced on a normal day. It was what he wanted, a normal day, whatever that was.

  He heard the toilet flush and didn’t mind it one bit. It beat the sound of gunfire, or explosions, or what it sounded like when pieces of a body landed at your feet or hit a rock in front of you. These were things he replaced with the little things like Ricardo taking a pee, and his wife running around trying to get him situated so she could sit and talk with her husband. He needed to hear these things from home to keep him feeling human after what he’d done and seen.

  “Okay, okay. I’m here now. So sorry.”

  “No worries, Mia. I’m not going anywhere. Just sitting here biding my time, enjoying hearing you do the things you do well.”

  “Oh yea? Like what?”

  He inhaled. Game on. God, he loved how quickly she could pick up what he was needing. “Well, for one thing, the way your little feet skip on the wooden floor at our house when you’re barefoot and fully naked, your sweet little ass jiggling just out of my reach.”

  “Ah, you make a girl feel wanted.”

  “Oh, baby, you’re wanted.”

  “How so? I mean, what would you do if you caught me?”

  “First, I’d bend you over and just look at you.”

  “Really, I’d like that. I’m going to bend over right now. Can you see me?”

  He heard her body move and had no doubt she was doing just that.

  “Where are you?”

  “In the bedroom.”

  “And Ricardo? I don’t want him seeing you when we talk because I’m going to make you do things…”

  “Not to worry, mi amore. He’s watching TV right now. We have a few minutes, but you have to be quick.”

  “Quick?”

  “Well, you usually like to take your time, but sweetheart, mi amore, I’m afraid I can’t give you that.”

  “Then what can you give me?”

  “It would have been nice with a snap chat or something.”

  “Not allowed, baby. You know that. And not smart, anyway.”

  “You should hear some of the girlfriends talk about it. Some of the guys are not so careful.”

  “I don’t want to talk about any of that. What are you doing now?”

  “Well, I am touching myself. If your hand was on mine, what would you make me do?”

  “You just rub that nice little bud of yours.”

  “Ah, yes. I feel that. Sooooo nice.”

  “Man, this is making me hard, Mia.”

  “So pretend I’m going to put my lips on
it. I can make it all better.”

  He heard her moan into the phone. “Nice, Mia.”

  “You taste good, sweetheart. I want you to come in my mouth.”

  “Come on Fredo, we gotta move!” Kyle’s voice commanded and Fredo jumped so high he fell off the wicker chair onto the floor.

  “Sorry. Okay, just one minute. Talking to my wife.”

  T.J. was behind Kyle, shaking his head as Fredo attempted to tell Mia he’d call her back. That is, if she could hear him. She was laughing so hard he wasn’t sure what she was getting.

  He hung up and placed the phone back in his vest and put the Kevlar back on.

  “You were fuckin’ your wife, weren’t you?” T.J. grinned.

  “Not possible, T.J. You know that.”

  “I’m telling you, that brain of yours is scrambled. Most men get serious when they get married. You were serious before. Now you’re just scrambled.”

  “Speak for yourself.”

  “Fredo! Come!” Kyle shouted out to the veranda.

  Coop handed him his duty bag. “You need water, I got an extra one.”

  “Thanks, Coop. What’s up?”

  “Little crowd down at the morgue. They can’t get the bodies out.”

  The black Suburbans dashed down the little swale and back into the city center. The traffic was horrific. They were told there were only three traffic lights on the whole island, but today none of them were working, not that it would make any difference.

  Kyle was trying to reach Cabrera. “Fuck it all to hell,” he growled as he hung up.

  The driver, one of Cabrera’s men, was going to turn left and Kyle stopped him.

  “Where the hell are you going? Morgue is over that way, isn’t it?” Kyle barked.

  “They didn’t go to the hospital morgue. They were ordered to the morgue for Policia Nacionale.”

  “That’s not what the plan was. Where’s Cabrera?”

  “He’s trying to fix it. The Policia Nacionale diverted the transport.”

  Fredo leaned over the seat and asked the driver. “You mean each branch has their own morgue?”

  “Yessir. At the house, we were working with the Civil. We think someone was tipped off, and the vans were taken over and ordered to the morgue at Nacionale. So sorry.”

  T.J., Coop, and Fredo all exchanged a look. Fredo knew this was going to cost someone something. Kyle was on the phone again. This time he was speaking with the Assistant Deputy in Morocco.

  “I don’t have a name, ma’am. But I’ll be sure to put them on the line. What is the holdup?”

  Fredo heard the high-pitched voice of Mrs. Nouri, but not what she said.

  “How’re we fuckin supposed to—sorry, ma’am—but how are we supposed to get that today?”

  Kyle shook his head when he got the answer. “So what should I pay then?”

  After waiting for another brief answer from her, he replied, “That’s not a real answer, ma’am.”

  Kyle signed off after promising to keep her updated. Fredo’s LPO turned to face the three amigos in the second seat.

  “Well, not sure we could have known to have a plan B here, but it seems she has no jurisdiction on the Island. The consular office handling this jurisdiction is in Barcelona. She’s going to try. She thinks the hang-up could be someone is looking to make some money over a death certificate.”

  “Which means a shit-pile of paperwork we don’t wanna fill out,” said Fredo.

  “No kiddin’,” said T.J.

  “Kyle, we’re gonna have to steal them away from the morgue, then,” said Coop, cool and flat like it was no issue.

  “We got twelve guys and three dead bodies, and who knows how many police. I wish I could get hold of Cabrera.” Kyle looked at the driver. “You ready for a little fun? I got an idea.”

  The driver stiffened, suddenly aware of the fact he’d been conscripted to do something that was probably against a bunch of laws and would be impossible to explain.

  “I am your driver.”

  “And Cabrera says to sit on us, right? Not to let us out of your sight, right?”

  “Si, Senior. That is the case.”

  “So that’s all you gotta do.”

  Fredo touched Kyle’s shoulder. “What’s the plan, boss?”

  “We’re going to play a little dress-up.” He pointed to the driver. “In California we’re used to dressing in drag for Halloween. You ever done that?”

  “Drag?” The driver’s expression was a deer-in-the-headlights type of stare.

  T.J. leaned back in his seat, crossed his arms and watched the passing traffic and people on bicycles. “This is gonna be fun.” He finally broke out in a full smile.

  “Hey, Lanny,” asked Coop. “You do know that the Secretary is going to be rather odorous? I mean, he’s already starting to bloat and, you know, the fluids and such.”

  “Coop, I think we need to find some adult diapers somewhere.” He turned to the driver again. “Drug store or pharmacia? We need a big store that sells everything.”

  The second Suburban followed them to the edge of the local open-air market, surrounded by shops which sold everything known to man, including silks and shawls, even a used burqa in light grey. Kyle pointed, and Coop purchased everything he selected. T.J. found the adult diapers at one of the shops that had just re-opened after lunch. He pointed out words on the package, printed in red, talla extra larga.

  Fredo followed Kyle and helped purchase several long saris and a used purse made of carpet fiber. On his own, Fredo purchased a huge brassier, which got a chuckle out of Coop.

  The Suburban drivers were conferring while Carter and Danny ran over and asked what the stop was for and were told as much as Kyle had managed to figure out.

  “Seriously, we’re gonna take Robinson and dress him up as a woman? You gonna need lipstick and a wig and all that shit,” said Carter.

  “Then let it be so, but be quick about it,” answered Kyle. Carter and Danny ran toward a booth that appeared to sell bright violet afros.

  Cabrera telephoned Kyle and secured the location of the bodies. Without telling him too many details, Kyle advised they were on their way, and that Mrs. Nouri was trying to get hold of the embassy staff in Barcelona.

  Their purchases in hand, everyone piled back into the black vehicles and sped the short distance to the Deposito De Cadaveres, a non-descript cinder block building with bars on the windows, but no glass. They pulled around the back side of the building to where there was a loading dock leading to a set of double metal doors that had seen several encounters with large vehicle bumpers and a couple of automatic rounds. Cabrera’s vehicle and two ambulances were parked at odd angles in the back, both with their rear doors open and no contents inside.

  The morgue rear doors were secured with chains running through two gaping holes in the metal.

  “They don’t exactly have the welcome mat out, so someone get the cutters,” said Kyle with a sigh, “In case we gotta get out of Dodge in a hurry.”

  A set of glass doors were off to the right, near the corner of the building. Fredo guessed the bodies would have been brought in through that way. He turned and saw T.J. carefully cut the heavy chains on the rear entrance and stuff the cutters back in his medic’s kit.

  “You two,” Kyle said to the drivers, “Stay here no matter what. When we say go, we go, understood? And you only take orders from me.”

  They both nodded agreement and looked scared to death. Fredo guessed they were new recruits and not long on Cabrera’s force.

  As soon as Kyle, Coop, T.J. and Fredo walked through the glass doors it was evident the Secretary was in residence. The air ventilation system was nonexistent. Fredo wondered if he should have left the bags of goods they’d gotten at the market, but after looking at the crowd of officials, holding handkerchiefs over their noses, he realized no one would notice.

  Cabrera spoke with Kyle. Beyond several officials sitting at a small table and two extremely large bodyguards behind them
, and through an open doorway to the back of the morgue, were the three bodies. The Secretary was dripping, making a light brown puddle under the stainless steel table on wheels.

  As Kyle spoke to him, Cabrera looked down at the bright pink plastic bag from the market. Fredo held it up and smiled.

  Kyle dialed Mrs. Nouri and handed the phone to a small horse-faced man with a pencil thin moustache, his uniform impeccably pressed and boots polished to a high sheen. “Si, Si Signora. But no, that is not possible. We will have to execute the proper paperwork tomorrow.”

  The general returned Kyle’s phone and made a call to one of his superiors, while Kyle and Cabrera conferred again. Several beefy guys waited behind the little “general” or whoever he was. Fredo mentally called him The Man In Charge Of The Dead Bodies.

  Fredo had seen morgues in many third world countries, and it was always a luxury if they contained a freezer or refrigerated compartment for the bodies. This morgue had one, but it was being used to store file drawers. The four-inch thick steel-walled door was flung wide open.

  “So much for preserving the evidence,” he whispered to Coop.

  The general continued to speak with his superior, when Cabrera interrupted him. They spoke in Spanish. The official looked over the crowd of SEALs standing before him and nodded.

  Cabrera motioned for them to come inside the morgue but left his men outside to guard the entrance. It occurred to Fredo the general was not aware the rear doors had been breached, and hoped it would stay that way for a few minutes.

  Secretary Harrison’s expression looked even more frightening than before. His cheeks sunk in further, lips pulled back over his gumline in what could only be described as a grimace. The other two security detail had been placed with their arms crossing over their bodies.

  The Team looked to Kyle for instructions.

  Carter stepped forward. “Oh hell, let’s do this!”

  The team split into three groups, each one applying a diaper to their assigned security team member. Coop used his plastic tubing to puncture the bloated belly of Harrison so they could get the diaper on him snugly. The air that expelled was even worse than the air that had permeated the building.