by Dale Mayer
BADGER
SEALs of Steel, Book 1
Dale Mayer
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
About This Book
Complimentary Download
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
About Erick
Author’s Note
Complimentary Download
About the Author
Copyright Page
About This Book
When an eight-man unit hit a landmine, all were badly injured but one died. The remaining seven aim to see his death avenged.
Badger knows those last-minute changes and the explosion were deliberate.
Kat is hooked on a man whose sole concern is retribution while she just wants happily-ever-after with him. Somehow she has to convince Badger love is preferable to answers gained only at the risk of dying to get them.
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KILL OR BE KILLED
Part of an elite SEAL team, Mason takes on the dangerous jobs no one else wants to do – or can do. When he’s on a mission, he’s focused and dedicated. When he’s not, he plays as hard as he fights.
Until he meets a woman he can’t have but can’t forget. Software developer, Tesla lost her brother in combat and has no intention of getting close to someone else in the military. Determined to save other US soldiers from a similar fate, she’s created a program that could save lives. But other countries know about the program, and they won’t stop until they get it – and get her.
Time is running out … For her … For him … For them …
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Chapter 1
Kat Greenwald reached for her screwdriver and gently tightened the last adjustment on the state-of-the-art prosthetic leg in front of her. This was a new design, with a wider top, better balance, less material over all, but she hoped it was also stronger. Not the usual carbon fiber and polypropylene. Titanium had been added to the base, with a few other metals mixed in for strength. It still wouldn’t be enough.
The man to wear this one was bent on destruction and refused to have the last surgery that would make his mobility that much better and his pain that much less. In her mind, she’d pegged the reason as he didn’t care—or didn’t think he’d live long enough to be bothered.
And she could do or say nothing to stop him from his chosen path. With a heavy sigh she stood and passed the prosthetic to Badger Horley.
Without a word, he took it, examined the changes she’d just made, gave a quick nod and put it on over the soft cotton wrapping on his stump. He stood and walked around the room.
Kat watched the huge man in front of her. He’d walked into her office and lab six months ago, desperate for her to put a leg on the end of his stump. But he hadn’t been ready. The flesh on his stump hadn’t healed enough. Any pressure caused a flare up and swelling, followed by infection. But he’d been adamant. He was determined to get on with his life.
She watched his face, not the leg, as he stepped around the room. The stump wasn’t healed enough for her liking even now. He needed to stay off it for another three weeks. But that took her back to his stubbornness.
“You shouldn’t stay on the leg more than ten to fifteen minutes at a time,” she warned. “Otherwise you’ll end up damaging the tissue next to the prosthetic, and the stump’ll never heal. You know perfectly well your last infection damn near killed you.”
He shot her a hard look but stayed silent.
She shrugged. “Or don’t look after yourself. See if I care.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Right.” She kept the rest of her thoughts to herself. When she came across somebody as driven and as angry as a badger, his namesake, she needed to stay the hell out of his way. The trouble was, she didn’t want to stay out of his way. And the last thing she wanted was for him to head off on his personal vendetta. Revenge was a bitch. And it wouldn’t keep him warm at night. There was always a price to pay when you went down that road.
Still, she had one more thing she could try.
She took the screwdriver back to her workbench and placed it in the case with the others. She turned and leaned against both her hands, so he couldn’t see her white-knuckled grip on the bench. In a low voice she said, “Stone called.”
He acted like he didn’t hear her as he paced the room, testing his mobility, but she watched the muscle twitch in the corner of his jaw.
“He asked for your number.”
He straightened and slowly turned to face her. “What did you tell him?”
“I told him that you are on a death mission. And likely to get yourself killed.”
His gaze held a fury she had not seen before. She’d known it was inside, carefully hidden. It was evident in every line on that heavily muscled body as he twisted and turned, stretched and bent. Motions hard, sharp, jerky. When he put something down on a table, it landed with too much force. When he stood, it was too fast, chairs bouncing backward. Nothing in his life was relaxed and calm.
“You had no right.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “No right to what? Answer his questions? I didn’t overstep your HIPAA privacy rights. Stone and I have talked about prosthesis designs and shared findings long before you were my patient. He knew you were coming to see me but not from me. He called me, as your friend. And I’m not your therapist, but I have an opinion regardless. Plus you never said anything was top secret or superconfidential,” she said in a hard tone. “You and I never really talk. I don’t know where you live, who you’re after or what asshole you’re planning on putting six feet under. Stone asked me how you were doing, and I told him the truth.”
Badger sucked his breath back and glared at her, his teeth clenched tight. “And what truth was that?”
“I said that you were hell-bent on killing yourself and wouldn’t give your leg time to heal, and that I expected to hear you died from a septic infection within six weeks. That you were so focused on revenge that nothing else mattered, including having a future.”
Badger snorted. “I have been looking after myself for a long time now. And my future does matter—at least once I deal with this issue. So no way would I let an infection like that take over my system.”
She crossed her arms under her breasts. “Says you. But I’ve seen a man just as big and just as mean dropped for that exact reason. He became so focused on making sure he got back to what he considered a normal life that he forgot the warning signs. By the time he came in to me for an adjustment and an extra set of pads for comfort, he was already too far gone. But he wouldn’t let anybody look at it. He wouldn’t let anybody touch it. I’m the one who called the ambulance and had him shipped to the hospital. I never saw him again because he didn’t make it. Four days later he was dead.”
And that was no lie. It was one of the saddest truths she knew. She swore she’d never let that happen to another patient. But Badger was… well, Badger was past the point of her being able to do anything about his impending demise.
Not physically but emotionally, psychologically.
He stared at her, his gaze searching. “You’ve never mentioned that case before.”
“Just like you, I have things I’d rather not talk about,” she said smoothly. “And a patient I co
uldn’t save—even though I’m the only one who acted in his best interests—makes it very difficult for me to speak about him.”
“How long ago was this?”
“Four years. The kid was twenty-eight.”
Badger’s breath let out in a whoosh. He slid back inside himself, rethinking his actions. “My leg is not that bad.”
“Your leg is bad. By the time it’s that bad, it’ll be way too late.”
He rubbed his forehead. “I’ll go home and take this off, and I’ll wander around with crutches for a while. Will that make you happy?”
She shrugged. “It will make me happier. To see you stop your vendetta would make me the happiest.”
He glared at her. “You take too much on yourself.”
“I’ve been working with you for six months. I know dozens just like you. But you’re the only one who’ll ram his head against a brick wall in order to find the asshole who ruined your life.”
He shook his head. “You don’t know anything about it.”
“Of course not. You don’t talk. At least not to me. I highly doubt you’ve gone to a therapist either.”
“I’m not that stubborn. It took a long time to deal with what happened.”
“Adjustment always takes time. This wasn’t an easy thing for you. But you’ve been flat on your back how many times since because you can’t get that leg to heal? If you mess up now, in any way, you’ll have major repercussions.”
He raised both hands in frustration. “I know that. I’m not stupid.”
“So then why is it I’m not allowed to tell Stone anything?”
Badger dropped his extremely muscled weight into the small chair she had set off to the side for visitors. She deliberately didn’t keep it too comfortable. The last thing she wanted was for people to stay. They could come tell her whatever it was she needed to do to help them, and then they could leave. But she wasn’t sure that chair, even for a short time, would sustain his mass. Badger came in the extra-large variety. At six-feet-six, 280 pounds, with both legs, he was a monster of a man. She’d never seen him lose his temper, but she knew it was big and hot and flashed fast. She could only hope he got over his anger just as easily.
“What did you do to my new leg?” he asked in an attempt to change the discussion.
“Changed the height of the cuff, ground down the edge and put a better joint in the knee. And, no, I haven’t gotten to the point of building a weapon in there, but it’s coming.”
For the first time in a long time, a grin flashed. The same grin that had slammed into her heart six months ago when he had walked in her doorway for the first time.
“If and when you can do that, I really would like to be first on the list for that prototype.”
She shook her head. “I’m not in the business of making weapons.”
“You don’t have to make them. You just have to find a way to hide them with easy access for us when we need them.”
“I might have an idea or two on that. That’s another reason Stone keeps calling. He’s got a similar idea.”
Badger nodded. “Stone’s a good guy.”
“That’s what he said about you.”
Badger dropped his gaze to the floor. “Did he say what he wanted?”
“I told you that he wanted your contact information. Something about having a lead.”
Badger sucked in his breath, and his gaze locked on hers as if trying to reach into her soul and give her a shake. “Why didn’t you say that in the beginning?”
She furrowed her brows and snapped, “I did.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and said, “No, you didn’t. Not about him having a lead.”
“It’s not like he’ll tell me anything about the business between the two of you. But, if you were asking him for help, or if he was getting information for you, why the hell doesn’t he have your contact information himself?”
“I lost my phone,” Badger said quietly.
She studied his face for a long moment and shook her head. “Like hell.”
Surprise hardened his gaze. “What do you mean?”
She shook her head again. “If you lost your phone, it’s because you made it get lost. You’re up to something. Before you leave town, make sure you pay my bill. If you’re not coming back, I won’t get paid.”
He bounded to his feet, pulled out his wallet and handed her his credit card. “Then let’s clear it up now.”
She snatched the card from his hand and stalked to her desk, quickly taking care of the paperwork. The damn bill had nothing to do with this. She wanted something to shake him up. Jolt him out of his focus. When she turned and handed his card back to him, she said, “You have choices, you know.”
He nodded, put away his credit card and walked to the front door before turning to look at her. “Sometimes those choices are made for us.”
“No,” she said, her tone soft, quiet, sad. “We still have to choose how we react. I don’t know what devil is riding you, but I can guess. The thing is, if you keep going down that path, you’ll never find the peace you want.”
“Yeah, so now you’re a shrink as well as a prosthetic designer?”
She shrugged, trying not to show the hurt deep inside. What had she expected? “I don’t need a shrink’s education to tell me that you’re in a bad way. Everything you do is driven by anger and revenge. There is more to life than finding out who did this to you.”
“It’s not about who did this to me,” he said, his tone hard, sober. “It’s about who did this to my friends. Particularly Mouse, who right now would be dancing for joy to have a leg like mine. Only he can’t because he’s six feet under the ground.” On that note he turned, walked through the front door and slammed it shut behind him.
Badger walked out of the office, down the stairs and headed toward his truck. He was still riled on the inside but didn’t dare show it. He had to control everything. She’d been wrong about one thing. He had been to a therapist. Several of them. He had been resistant to the idea, and it hadn’t been an easy process. He kept hoping they would let him skate on the bigger issues. And finally, after quitting and trying again, several times over, he’d broken down enough to start discussing the real issues. But, even after that last therapist, Badger had walked out after her words wouldn’t stop ringing through his head. She’d been adamant about him leaving behind the need for vengeance.
Bullshit.
Didn’t anyone realize just how big this was? Didn’t they realize his life had no meaning now that Mouse had died for nothing? He’d lost other friends in missions for the US Naval Services. Once a SEAL, always a SEAL. But none of them had hurt quite so bad as Mouse’s death.
There’d been something about Mouse. His unit had all looked at Mouse like their own kid brother. The seven of them pre-Mouse had been tight, a team forged long before Mouse showed up. At first, they hadn’t been sure about Mouse joining them. But, when they saw the fuzzy-cheeked, scraggly looking kid, they’d shaken their heads and adopted him into the group. And he’d been the one who died. They’d all lost limbs, some more than one. But they were all alive.
Except for Mouse.
Badger knew accidents happened. He knew war happened, and there was never any good way to deal with such life-altering injuries. But he knew something had gone wrong that day. Their orders had changed at the very last minute. Somebody, somehow, had deliberately sent them in the direction of that buried mine. His gut told him so. For eighteen months his mind and brain had warred over the issue before finally landing on the same side as his gut. And that breach of ethics was inexcusable. He just had to find out how and who.
Then maybe he could move forward.
No way could he move forward if he didn’t make that asshole pay. He just didn’t know how yet. Hell, he didn’t know who yet either.
Sometimes he woke up in the middle of the night with his fists clenched, his body locked in agony—his mind reliving over and over again how he lay in the hot sand, hearing his f
riends crying out beside him. But two years ago, the way he was positioned, all he could see was Mouse crumpled beside him. That had been the day from hell.
When he struggled to inspect his own body, he found his leg gone, his gut wrenched opened, and his arm and back filled with shrapnel. He’d managed to get a call out for help, then dragged himself to Erick’s side, grabbing his hand and telling him to hold on. He didn’t remember much after that. He lost consciousness and woke up in the military hospital just before they put him under the knife. He remembered crying out to the doc to save Mouse first, and the doc slapping a mask over his face and telling him to go to sleep. He had slept but not by choice.
And when he woke up, his worst nightmare had come true. The others tried to tell him to ease back, and he knew they all felt the loss as keenly as he did. But, for some reason, he couldn’t get over it. He hoped they had. He stayed in contact with all of them, but he wasn’t sure any of them felt this same need that he did for vengeance. He knew it was twisting him up, poisoning his life, stopping him from having a future, like everybody around him urged him to have. But how did he move forward when he knew somebody had deliberately thrown him and his team into this nightmare? And was probably sitting back and laughing about it.
He shook his head, unlocked his truck door and hopped in. That movement pulled a muscle in his back. He sat there, gasping for a long moment. Just as he put the keys in the ignition, his phone rang. He pulled out his cell, saw the name on the screen and smiled. “Well, I guess she handed you my contact information after all. Stone, what’s up?”
“Not much. You?” Stone’s voice was hard, determined, and yet there was a hint of caution. As if he was determining where the hell Badger was on this path called life.
Badger smiled. “I’m sitting outside Kat’s office. She made some changes on my prosthetic. I’m hoping this time it won’t sore my leg up quite so bad.”
“You know it needs time to heal. Give your leg a break before you wear the prosthetic again. Not everybody has a clean amputation. They try, but some tendons and muscles don’t grow back the way they’re supposed to.”