by Dale Mayer
GEIR
SEALs of Steel, Book 6
Dale Mayer
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
About This Book
Complimentary Download
Prologue
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
Epilogue
About Jager
Author’s Note
Complimentary Download
About the Author
Copyright Page
About This Book
When an eight-man unit hit a landmine, all were injured but one died. The remaining seven aim to see Mouse’s death avenged.
The more Geir discovers, the more he fears the newest member of his former SEALs team wasn’t who they thought.
An artist, Morning runs a B&B. She’s avoided relationships but quickly decides she wouldn’t mind having Geir around permanently. His protectiveness becomes much more when the nastiness of his world spills into hers…
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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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Prologue
Geir Pavla watched the pair head back to Minx’s bedroom. He was happy for his friend. Laszlo had been through so much shit and so much hurt. Minx didn’t even know about his father in Norway, Geir was pretty sure. There hadn’t been time. But apparently that was how life was these days. He’d watched so many of his friends come together in a combustible mode, work out their differences and, all of a sudden, be a perfect fit. He didn’t expect perfection in their lives from their start. It would take time to adapt and to find a way to get along the best they could. But he knew Laszlo and Minx would make it. They were so good for each other. And Geir had no intention of interrupting their initial time together as a couple. As soon as they hit New Mexico, Geir would head to California.
He had a lot of contacts there he wasn’t sure the others had. They also had a meeting in the morning. Someone in the group needed to connect with Coronado. He hoped to follow that up with a personal visit to Mason and see if they could get to the bottom of what the hell had happened with Mouse. But Geir hadn’t contacted Mason to see if that could happen. At this point, Geir didn’t know that he trusted anything he’d heard. None of it made any sense. But he needed to give them all an update too.
He sent out a message to Mason, telling him what happened. Even with another four hours until daylight here in Texas—meaning another six in California—Mason sent back a quick message. Let’s do the meeting when you return to New Mexico then.
Geir agreed with that decision. The sooner they could get home, the better. He texted Mason again. After this I’m coming down to Coronado. We’re so damn close. And yet we’re so far away.
No, with every clue, you’re closer, Mason texted back. Things are happening right now, so stand strong. We’ll get to the bottom of this, and it’ll happen fast.
Sure, but I need a place to stay in Coronado. I may have to call some friends.
I know somebody who runs a B&B. If you want, I can call her and get you a room. Nobody will know who you are, so you don’t have to feel beholden to anyone, and you don’t have to feel like you need to entertain or be entertained.
Perfect. What’s her name?
Her first name is Morning. Morning Blossom.
Geir stared at the name and shook his head. Really?
The text came back right away. Yeah, really. But she’s a sweetheart. You’ll love her.
Geir wasn’t sure. But how hard could it be to love anybody named Morning Blossom? He grinned, pocketed his phone and headed for Minx’s couch. While he had the chance, he would catch a few hours of sleep because, as far as he could see, this was all coming to a head faster than ever. And he doubted he’d get Laszlo to go with him to California. But maybe. If not, well, it was time for Jager to come in out of the dark.
As he lay in the dark, Geir thought about the man he’d called best friend for so long. But Jager had taken the incident the worst. He’d been the navigator in the truck and had blamed himself. And yet, no way in hell was he responsible.
Geir sent Jager a quick message. I know you’re seeing these. I’m heading to Coronado in a couple days. Things have blown open. Road trip?
He waited and waited, and, when he thought, No way in hell would Jager break his silence, Geir got a message. He read it and grinned.
I’ll be there.
Chapter 1
Geir stepped out of the airport and stopped. It had been several years since he’d been in California. Although there were some ugly memories, there were a lot of good ones. The nostalgia truck hit him hard. He gave himself all of thirty seconds to wallow, and then he straightened his back and headed for the rental agency. The truck was something familiar, fun and reminiscent of their old life, and he never knew when he might need to haul something.
Mason had booked Geir at a bed-and-breakfast run by Morning Blossom. She even had a website for Morning Blossom’s Bed-&-Breakfast. He wondered how somebody not only was given a name like that but had liked the name enough to use it as her business name for her B&B. He shook his head. Geir had some work to figure out, some information to define. They were so damn close to getting to the bottom of their land mine mystery that he didn’t want to waste any time thinking about strange business names.
If he could finish up here in California in a couple days, then get back to New Mexico, he’d be happy. The rest of the unit were hunting down information. Geir could just envision the entire team leaning over laptops and on their phones. Last he’d heard before he had boarded the plane to leave Santa Fe was that the Afghanistan arms dealer had contacted Erick. Seems that, approximately two years ago—same timing as their land mine accident—the local rebel leader had had somebody working for him who’d been inciting change within his ranks. The leader had thought he had taken measures to derail any upstarts back then. However, with the latest happenings in Kabul—when Erick, Cade and Talon were there about a month ago—in a permanent effort to remove that threat, the rebel leader had cleaned house … completely this time.
Geir tried to understand what possible connection this asshole could have to his unit’s accident over there. At this point, he could only figure the rebel leader’s henchman had been paid to do a freelance job by some third-party. Nothing else made sense. And it was far too late to question him.
Geir changed lanes yet again. Another thing he’d forgotten about San Diego was the damn traffic.
It took twenty minutes longer than planned, but eventually he pulled up to a large multilevel yellow Victorian-looking clapboard house.
He parked the truck out on the road and walked up to the front door with its big Welcome, Come In sign. He
shrugged, opened the door and stepped inside. Immediately a light fresh scent filled his nostrils, one he hadn’t smelled in a long time. He tilted his head to the side, hearing a voice call from the back, “I’ll be right there.”
He lifted his nose appreciatively to fresh-baked bread.
He dropped his bag quietly and followed the voice. There, in a large country-style kitchen, with pine cupboards and a massive butcher-block island, was a woman, her hair up in a messy bun, tendrils of reddish auburn hair dancing around her temples, working with a large bowl of foamy liquid.
He stopped and spoke to her. “Since you’re busy, I hope you don’t mind that I came to find you.” His tone was quiet, almost apologetic.
She glanced up and beamed.
He was struck by the openness in her smile. He was a complete stranger who’d walked into her house. Didn’t she know better? Didn’t she know the world was full of darkness and evil? Filled with men who would do horrible things, even if they were family or friends?
“Delighted to meet you.” Her voice was light, soft. “You must be Geir.”
He frowned. “I must? Why?”
“Because you’re exactly as Mason described you.”
At that, his eyebrows rose. “Not sure Mason knows that much about me.”
“Oh, he didn’t tell me that you had brown hair and were six feet tall.” She laughed. “He said that I’d know you by the stillness in your stance, the look in your eyes, the hardness to your jaw and that, inside, you were a teddy bear.”
He couldn’t hold back the snort. His grin widened. “Did he also warn you about leaving your door unlocked for anybody to walk in?”
She chuckled. “Mason and many others have told me that repeatedly. I have security out there. I guess it’ll only help after the fact and not do a damn bit of good beforehand.” She nodded at the island cluttered with her current project. “And thank you for coming in. I wasn’t looking forward to cleaning off my hands and then getting back to work. This stuff is so messy.”
“Stuff?”
She chuckled. “This is a ripe sourdough starter I’m adding to, but I wanted to give it a good mix. Instead, I dropped my spoon in, so I had to fish it out.” She held up a spoon completely covered in some gloopy mess. She walked to the sink, washed her hands and the spoon. “I’ll put on a fresh pot of coffee. Would you like a cup?”
“Yes, thank you. And do I smell fresh bread baking?”
She tossed him a saucy look. “Fresh bread and homemade cinnamon buns. See? You have perfect timing.”
He heard the front door open again. Somewhere in the house chimes rang.
She gave a nod of satisfaction. “Both of you have great timing.”
“How could you possibly know who the other person is?”
She nodded behind him, and he turned toward a small TV. Onscreen was somebody Geir hadn’t seen in two years. His face lit up. “Jager.” He spun on his heels and headed out to the front hall.
The two men wrapped their arms around each other in a hard, long hug. Both emotional, Geir stepped back. “Well, I’m glad nobody else saw that.”
Jager nodded, his voice husky as he said, “True enough.”
Of course Geir realized Morning Blossom would have seen it via her security setup, but it appeared to be something she wouldn’t have a problem with. He looked at Jager. “It’s been a long time.”
“Not only a long time but a long distance. I almost died,” Jager said bluntly.
Geir nodded. “Me too. After that blast, the first couple weeks were just a nightmare of surgeries and drugs and hospital beds and operating rooms. It took me weeks to even get an idea of where I was. Only to wake and find I was missing parts of me.”
Jager nodded. “I think I have more pins in my body now than it’s possible to have and still be alive.”
“Modern medicine.” Geir nodded. “Thank God.”
“I didn’t think so for a long time though.” Jager’s voice dropped painfully. “I begged for them to let me go. Told them that I refused to have any more surgery. Made sure they posted a Do Not Resuscitate order if I coded one more time.”
Geir winced.
“I didn’t have to do that,” Jager said quietly. “Yet, at that time, it was the only way I could handle things.”
“But, if you think less of yourself for having hit that stage, don’t,” Geir said. “Most of us got thrown into the shit pile and back out again. Some of us survived, and we’re okay. Some of us survived, and we’re less than okay. But, I got to tell you, the others in the group, they’re doing pretty damn decent.”
“What’s this I hear about women?”
“Glad you said women, plural. Maybe we had a little bit too much to do with Mason’s bloody matchmaking group. So far, all the others, all five of them, have picked up partners who are incredible,” Geir said. “And honestly, a part of me is feeling sad for myself. I’m not jealous of them—maybe envious—but I wouldn’t want to take away from their joy. Every one of us had hit the shit soup. We’ve all eaten from that same shit sandwich, so it’s nice if somebody gets a chance to pull out of it.”
“I gather your recovery was far from ideal?”
Geir snorted. “You might have extra pins, but I’m missing more organs than I thought one could live without.”
Jager nodded. “You took more of a soft-tissue blast then, I presume?”
Geir shrugged. “I did. Of course that’s in addition to the loss of my right hand and my right lower leg, but that’s almost a So what? in our group.”
Just then a voice behind them said, “If you guys want to come to the kitchen, there’s fresh coffee.” Morning stepped through the doorway. “Glad you two have finally reconnected.” She motioned with her arm. “Coffee is this way.”
Geir looked at his bag. “I need to take this to my room first.”
Jager had yet to put his down.
She took one look at the two of them, eyed their bags and gave a quick nod. “If you have weapons in there, just know you aren’t allowed to brandish them in my house.”
Jager tilted his head and smiled. “And what if we have a just need?”
Her eyes widened. “Well, it hasn’t happened in any of my years. Yet, I suppose, if a situation arose where gunfire was required, then I’d have to say, Thank you, in advance.”
Geir chuckled. “You’re thanking us for having weapons you don’t want us to have in the house?”
“Only in the hypothetical circumstance that they might be necessary down the road,” she said cheerfully. She stepped behind the small front counter, flipping open to a new page on the guest book. “Sign here. Payments have already been processed.”
“What?” Geir asked. “By whom?”
She looked at him with a smile. “Mason. For both of you. And maybe that’s because I require an advance payment.”
Geir nodded. “He would do something like that.”
Morning waited until both men signed the book, then picked up two keys, handed them over and held up her big ring of keys. “I have masters for both your rooms.” She came from around the counter. “Follow me.”
Morning walked up the stairs to the second floor. Mason had specifically asked for one bedroom in the front and one bedroom in the back but connected. She wasn’t too sure of the status of the two men’s relationship, but she had been too moved by their greeting to judge. They obviously shared a deep and strong bond, and that was priceless. She stopped at the first bedroom, opened the door and stepped in.
She was proud of her rooms here. She had three stories, four rooms on each level, and her own was the alcove in the back of the third floor. Sometimes she was full; sometimes she wasn’t. Running a bed-and-breakfast had both benefits and disadvantages. But, so far, the benefits had outweighed all the disadvantages.
“Here you go. This is one of the two rooms. The other one is connected by this door.” She walked to the interior door and opened it. “So, you can either close and lock this, from both sides, or you
can sit here and have midnight supersecret meetings,” she joked, watching as the two men looked around the spacious room with the large king-size bed and a small balcony off the front. “I’m not sure which one of you wants this one. Let’s go through to the second one.” She walked through the connecting doorway. “This is the matching room. These two make up half of the second story, with another pair on the other side of this floor. So you’ll have a front view and a back view.”
“Fire escape?” Jager asked.
She glanced at him in surprise. “There isn’t one. There is a back staircase, and you can access it from this bedroom.” She walked out into the hall and motioned to the staircase that led down the back way. “There are two entrances and exits. The balcony is also one floor off the ground, if necessary as an emergency exit. I’m sure you could get out of there fairly safely.”
Both men nodded but didn’t say a word.
She wasn’t sure what to make of them. It was obvious they were powerfully capable men, as every step they took had that sense of determination behind it, driving them forward. They also held themselves aloof, as if they weren’t sure of their welcome in the world. Or as if they’d separated themselves for some reason.
She smiled at them. “And now that you are here, you decide which room you want. I don’t need to know because I’ve given you keys. One of you has one for this room. The other has the other. Obviously, if you need to change, go ahead and change. I’ll go check on the cinnamon buns.” She gave them another smile, slipped into the hall and went down the back stairwell. It would take her just outside the kitchen, with a back door exit, mudroom, storage and pantry there.
She walked into the kitchen, hearing the timer going off on the stove. She picked up her pace, grabbed her oven mitts, opened the oven door and pulled out a tray of beautifully golden cinnamon buns, the sugar just bubbling over the top. She smiled and set them on the big butcher-block island. With the oven open, she rearranged the bread baking inside and closed it up, setting the timer for another twenty minutes.
