SEAL Strong

by Cat Johnson

  His weakness hadn’t gone unnoticed.

  A team was only as strong as its weakest member and that weak link was glaringly and obviously Silas.

  This was just a practice exercise, and not even a live fire one at that, given their public location. But if it had been a real mission and they’d been in a deadly situation, him not being one hundred percent could have endangered both the operation and the team.

  His hubris in thinking he could overcome his injury and return to combat duty instead of being honest with the doctor and his commander could have cost lives.

  With that sobering realization in the forefront of his mind, Silas got through the rest of the exercise. Mostly because his teammates pulled their own weight plus they made up for any of his shortcomings. But he couldn’t let it happen again.

  The commander was on site with a few men in suits Silas didn’t recognize.

  Apparently this wasn’t just any old training. They’d been showing off for someone. God only knew whom. Probably some politician.

  It didn’t matter. With the commander present on the dock when the team came off the ship after the successful rescue of the pretend hostage there was no excuse for Silas to delay.

  “Sir, I hate to interrupt but I need to discuss something with you. In private.”

  Commander Talley drew his brows low. “Now?”

  “No, sir. It can wait until morning.”

  The commander nodded. “All right. I’ll see you in my office at zero-eight-hundred.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

  It didn’t matter that Silas didn’t climb into his rack until a few hours before sunrise. He didn’t care that he had just a handful of hours to sleep before he needed to get up, don a uniform and stand before his commander.

  He wouldn’t have slept even if he’d had the time.

  His mind tortured him as effectively as any insurgent could have, keeping him awake, tossing and turning all night.

  He arrived at the commander’s office on time and in uniform. Ten minutes early actually. But now that he was there, he wanted to be anywhere else.

  Even so, there was no getting around what he knew he had to do.

  Silas steeled his nerve and strode into the office.

  The commander was standing, coffee mug in hand. He moved around his desk, set the mug down and flopped back into his chair. “So, what is so important that you needed to see me now and didn’t take the extra hour of sleep I allowed the team?”

  Silas swallowed and said past the tightness in his throat, “I need to stand down.”

  Talley was silent for a second. “Because?”

  It was a fair question.

  Silas had been away from combat duty for well over two years between Jonas’s death and his injury. The commander was justified in wondering which of Silas’s issues was going to keep him out of the action now.

  “I’m no longer confident in my abilities. I’m afraid I’ll be a detriment to the team. I felt it last night during the exercise.”

  Commander Talley nodded. “You came back too soon. We can put you in a training position for a few more months. Or as long as it takes until you’re healed.”

  “No, sir. I’m not sure I’ll ever be back in fighting shape.”

  It was the hardest thing he’d ever have to admit to his commander and to himself, that even if his back did eventually heal completely, his mind might not.

  He’d lost his confidence in his body and himself. That was death for a SEAL’s career.

  And as for the commander’s offer of a training position, or even recruiting or desk duty—he’d been there already. The only way he’d survived it was knowing it was temporary and that he’d be back in the thick of things soon.

  The commander pinned him with his gaze. “Good instructors are critical to the future of the teams.”

  “I know and I’m not knocking the position. It’s just not for me.” Silas shook his head. “I’m all in or all out.”

  His body had already made the decision which one it was going to be.

  Silent for a few long moments, the commander pressed his lips tight.

  Finally he drew in a breath through his nose and said, “All right. I hate to see you go, but I understand. You start the paperwork. I’ll push it through. You’ll be a civilian before you know it.”

  Silas nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

  Getting what he wanted had never felt so devastating.

  CHAPTER 7

  “Hey.”

  Just when he thought he couldn’t feel any lower, that achingly familiar voice behind him had Silas tensing.

  This restaurant had been their favorite place to come when they’d been married. He should have known there’d be a risk he could run into her here.

  Drawing in a bracing breath, he turned his head and saw her. Maggie.

  “Hey,” he said for lack of anything better.

  Her brows drew low in a frown. “I thought the team deployed. Are you on leave?”

  She was still friendly with the other guys’ wives. It made sense she’d know when the team left town.

  What didn’t make sense is that she cared what he did any longer. Her responsibility for his welfare had ended with his signature on the divorce papers.

  His beer braced between his two hands as he faced the bar again, he snorted. “Yup. Permanent leave.”

  “What?” Her voice rose high with surprise.

  Silas sighed and turned to face her fully. As much as he didn’t want to have this conversation at all, and especially not with the woman who’d caused the gaping hole that still existed in his heart, he had to answer her.

  “I’ve been medically retired.”

  “What happened?” Her eyes widened as she visibly swept his body with her gaze.

  If she was looking for bullet holes or missing limbs, she wouldn’t find any.

  “I blew out my back.”

  She hissed in a breath. “Si, I’m so sorry.”

  He believed her. It still didn’t help. “Yeah. Me too.”

  “Um, I was just going to grab my take-out order. Nothing much. Just pizza and a salad. If you wanted to come back to the house and join me . . .”

  He lifted a brow. Was this a pity date? With his ex-wife? Lovely.

  But right now, he didn’t care.

  He realized he hadn’t bothered to eat all day and the thought of pizza, combined with the aroma of it cooking that constantly permeated the air of the restaurant, brought his hunger to the forefront.

  Besides that, the dead last thing he wanted to do was go back to the studio apartment he rented in town since he no longer qualified for housing on base.

  After fourteen years in the Navy, now that he’d been medically retired all he felt was jobless and homeless.

  At least he had his retirement and disability pay. Might as well spend some of it on something he’d enjoy. Drinking.

  “You have any beer in the house?” he asked.

  She cringed. “No. Sorry.”

  “No worries.” He lifted one hand and signaled the bartender. “Can I get a six-pack of longnecks to go? And then you can close out my tab.”

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  Boss. Not even close.

  He’d been a lieutenant commander in one of the finest, most highly trained elite fighting forces in the US military. But he could imagine himself slipping into a new role—that of sad broken drunk slumped over a bar.

  And now he was going to hang out with his ex-wife. His pity party was complete.

  Half an hour later he realized pizza to fill the empty hole in his gut and lots of beer to numb his mind actually helped a bit.

  So did stretching out in his old easy chair in the living room, amazingly enough.

  He thought it would hurt like hell being back inside this house, but the familiar surroundings soothed him. Even if it wasn’t his living room any longer, it was sure as hell better than that cold depressing room he was renting.

  Christ, his life sucke
d.

  He glanced up and found Maggie watching him.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  He lifted one shoulder. “I just miss it.”

  “See, I don’t understand that.”

  “What don’t you understand?” he asked.

  “How you can miss it. The horrors that you saw. That you faced. I don’t understand it. Maybe I never will.” She visibly gave up with the flick of her wrist.

  Her being so quick to abandon trying to understand made him want to explain.

  “War and everything that comes with it—all of that, everything you mentioned—is horrible. No doubt. But it’s an excellent teacher. It made me a better man. I’ve never been sharper or in better shape than when I was active duty. But more, wading through all that destruction taught me appreciation for everything else in life.”

  A man could only appreciate what he had once he’d seen what it looked like to have nothing.

  Maybe that’s why he so desperately had wanted to go back. More than the camaraderie and the distraction, maybe he needed to see that even with as low as he’d fallen after the loss of his son and the break-up of his marriage, he still had more to be thankful for than every one of those people he’d seen in Aleppo. Right now he needed the reminder that things could be worse.

  In the teams he felt like he had a purpose. Here all he felt was . . . lost.

  She nodded, giving him hope that maybe she might get it, just a little bit. Though why he cared any longer if she understood him or not, he didn’t know.

  “So, what now?” she asked.

  He let out a short laugh. “Now, I finish this six-pack and then call an Uber.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I meant for work.”

  This topic was far too serious for him, but he knew he couldn’t get away with not answering. He lifted a shoulder and opted for the truth. “I honestly don’t know.”

  He could probably survive on his retirement pay alone.

  It wouldn’t be a great life. He wouldn’t be living extravagantly, but he could cover the necessities like rent and food.

  What more did he really need?

  The fact Maggie made double at her job what he’d earned in the Navy meant she hadn’t asked for spousal support in the divorce, so that wasn’t a financial issue for him.

  He’d never wanted much in the way of material things. His truck had been his biggest and pretty much his only indulgence for himself.

  The one thing he really wanted most didn’t cost a cent. Peace. In his mind. In his soul.

  That was also the one thing he couldn’t attain no matter how hard he tried, or how much he had.

  Money aside, he needed to get a job if only to occupy his mind. All this time for thinking was going to kill him for sure.

  “What if I got you an interview?” Maggie said.

  His brows shot high. “An interview where? To do what?”

  “Where do you think? DHS, of course. Remember, where I work?” She smirked.

  Maybe he was running a little slow from the beer but there were too many reasons why what she said made no sense.

  First and foremost, he wasn’t a politician, or a man who liked sitting at a desk for a living, and that was who mainly filled the ranks of the Department of Homeland Security as far as he knew.

  Second, why would the woman who had gone to such great lengths to end their marriage and get him out of her life, try to get him a job working where she worked?

  “That’s crazy.” If his frown didn’t tell her what he thought of her idea, his words hopefully would.

  “No, it’s not. Why would you say that?”

  “You work for the Office of Public Affairs,” he pointed out, not seeing the connection or the point of this whole discussion.

  What the hell could he do for them?

  He could lead a team of warriors. He could follow orders from his superiors, but he wasn’t exactly a people person. Especially not at the moment while he wallowed in this retirement-induced depression.

  “I work as a liaison to the Navy Special Warfare Command for the Office of Public Affairs for the Department of Homeland Security, so don’t act like there is no connection between what you used to do and what I still do. But what I was thinking—if you’d open your mind for a second and consider it—is that my boss has connections with all the agency heads. You could easily be a valuable addition to any number of the agencies. You have experience in a lot of the areas DHS works within.”

  “Oh, really? And what areas are those?” he asked, with a good bit of attitude.

  Close quarters battle? Sharpshooting? Basic underwater demolition? Those were his areas of expertise and he was pretty sure they’d have zero value to DHS.

  She folded her arms, visibly challenging him. “Do you even know all the different agencies DHS oversees?”

  “Yes.”

  She cocked a brow high, obviously not believing him.

  “I have a basic idea,” he added.

  Okay, maybe he didn’t know quite as much about the intricacies of the agencies that were a part of the Department of Homeland Security as he let on, but he wasn’t going to admit that to her.

  He could Google it later and find out.

  Mostly he figured DHS fit in somewhere along with the other governmental departments and agencies. No matter what their official purpose, the end result was usually to make his job in the teams harder.

  “You know, you used to come home and complain about how this or that person, or agency or department or whatever, didn’t get it. How they couldn’t get it because they’d never been where you’ve been or seen the things you saw.” Maggie pinned him with a stare.

  He couldn’t deny the truth of her words. “And?”

  “Don’t you want an opportunity to change things?”

  The dare was clear in her question. She was baiting him. Knowing he usually couldn’t resist a challenge.

  He let out a snort. “Is this some kind of ‘the best way to make change is from within’ speech?”

  She smiled. “Yes. Is it working?”

  His lips twitched. “Maybe.” Silas shook his head. “But it doesn’t matter anyway because there is no way in hell they’d hire me.”

  Maggie cocked a brow high. “We’ll see.”

  Her confidence stirred something inside him. Something he wished would stay sleeping. A warmth in his cold hard heart. A glow of an ember that with a little encouragement could easily flame up into a full blown inferno.

  Fuck.

  The dead last thing he needed right now was to feel the warm and fuzzies toward his ex-wife.

  Time to go. Taking out his cell, he opened the ride share app and requested a car. It said one was two minutes away. Perfect.

  “I’m going to head out.” He planted his hands on the arms of the chair and hoisted himself up.

  He’d always been a little too comfortable in that chair. He’d fallen asleep there more times than he could count.

  In fact, everything felt a little too comfortable here. A little too inviting. A little too much like he wanted to stay and since he couldn’t do that it was clearly past time he leave.

  She rose too from her seat on the sofa. “You driving?”

  “Nope. I ordered a car. The truck’s parked on the street. I’ll come back and grab it in the morning.”

  Either before she was awake, or after she’d already left for work so he didn’t run the risk of seeing her again.

  He’d spent too much time with her today. It had felt too good to be here with her. He was going to need to wean himself off her all over again.

  “That’s fine.” She walked with him to the door.

  “Thanks for dinner,” he said when they arrived.

  “Sure.” She nodded.

  “All right. Bye.” Out of small talk, he was about to reach for the knob when she leaned in and wrapped her arms around him.

  He stiffened, not sure what to do. The only thing he could think of was to hug her back.

&nb
sp; Holding her felt all too familiar. Too good. And too damn painful.

  He pulled back and disengaged himself from her unexpected embrace.

  “Gotta go.” He turned and yanked on the doorknob, before realizing it was locked.

  He struggled to flip the lock and get the door open, desperate to get outside where he might be able to breathe again. Maybe then he’d remember she wasn’t his to hold anymore.

  That whole to have and to hold from this day forward until death do us part business was over, in spite of the fact they were both still very much alive. Of course, it still felt as if he’d died inside. Maybe that was what that sentiment meant.

  When he finally conquered the lock, he pulled the door open wide.

  “I’ll be in touch about the job interview so we can set up a time for you to go in,” Maggie said as he walked through the open door.

  Him, getting hired by DHS . . . That was never going to happen.

  Glancing back, he snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, okay.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Okay,” he said, more sincerely this time.

  Let her try if it made her happy, but he wasn’t going to get his hopes up. He knew better than to hope for anything anymore.

  CHAPTER 8

  “Lieutenant Commander Branson. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Thanks for driving in to speak with me today.” A man named Chavez, who was apparently a big wig at DHS, motioned to the chair in front of the big desk. “Please, sit.”

  “Thank you, sir. And please, call me Silas.” He didn’t have any desire to be addressed by a rank that did nothing but remind him he was now a civilian.

  Maggie had done it. Pulled off a freaking miracle. And now he had to hold up his half of the bargain and not embarrass her by blowing this interview, even if he didn’t want this damn desk job in Washington, D.C..

  He still couldn’t comprehend that he was seated across from the director of the Office of Operations Coordination in an interview for a position at the Department of Homeland Security.

  From the freaking suit he’d had to buy because it didn’t feel right wearing his uniform, to his leaving his apartment before dawn to drive to Washington, D.C., to the fact he was even granted an interview to begin with—it was all too surreal.