Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Protecting Butterfly (Kindle Worlds Novella) (SEALed Fate Book 1)

by LeTeisha Newton

  “MCPON on deck!” Heim called. His team snapped to attention, saluting the highest ranking enlisted man in the military. It didn’t hurt that he once was an active SEAL and was the Chief of Naval Operations, touring with the Navy’s sailors and families. In his mid-forties, the distinguished salt-and-pepper sailor deserved the utmost respect. Protocol demanded he received the same salutations as a Vice Admiral.

  “At ease, gentleman. This is personal. And I call on you as my brothers help me.”

  “Hooyah!” they called. Once a SEAL, always a SEAL.

  “At around 0400 hours this morning, a video was sent to me of a sensitive nature.” The MCPON took a breath, closing his eyes. Heim’s commander stood up and clicked on the projector screen. A large ISIS flag was frozen on the screen, the video waiting to be played.

  “Mark every face, SEALs. I want them obliterated.”

  Taken aback, Heim turned to the screen as the commander pressed play. Normally in front of the cameras, the MCPON couldn’t afford to be anything but politically correct and seen to have sound judgement. His order was anything but.

  Watching the screen, Heim watched as a cameraman followed a line of hostages into a room. After some commotion, the woman who had been captured appeared on screen. Heim jumped to his feet.

  “Stop the video,” Heim said.

  “What is it, SEAL, and it better be good?”

  “Who is she?” Heim asked.

  “My daughter, Katya.”

  “Fuck me running,” Thomas “Welsh” O’Connor, the team's communications specialist, said. Welsh’s rough brogue twisted fuck into fok.

  “Sir?” Heim asked. He sat down in his seat, the wind knocked out of him.

  “She was taken, last night, from her vacation in Dubai. I received this video where they are requesting a trade for a war criminal at Guantanamo Bay.”

  “This...wait.”

  “Speak up, son, you’re starting to piss me off,” Arnold warned.

  Instead of answering Heim pulled the necklace he had in his pocket and walked over to the MCPON. “Is this hers?”

  “My star. It was a joke,” Arnold said. He chuckled, but the sound was watery. “She didn’t understand how Dad could get saluted by guys with the star thingies on their collar. She was a teenager, and didn’t understand about my rank. I told her she could hold my star then, and she did. How did you get this?”

  Unsure of how much to say, in respect to her father, but knowing he would be completely honest with a fellow SEAL, he chose to be a SEAL first.

  “I was with her last night in Dubai. When I woke up this morning she was gone, but her necklace was still there. I thought she just left in the morning before I left. I was told she went back up the elevator but she never made it back to my room. I assumed she met someone.”

  The fist flying toward his face was so fast he couldn’t dodge it. One minute he was on his feet, the next he slammed against the briefing table behind him, his jaw aching.

  “From a father meeting his daughter’s one night stand,” Arnold said. Then he held out his hand and helped Heim stand. “As a SEAL, though, I appreciate your honesty. Tell us everything you remember, and we can go over the film.”

  After explaining what he’d found out about when she left his room, the video played again. Heim didn’t know what was harder to watch, the way she fought back, afraid but willing to try to survive, or watching her eyes when she saw a man killed in front of her.

  “Don’t fight back, sweetheart. You’ll only make it worst,” Cry Baby said. He flinched as the man struck Katya in the face with his rifle.

  “Just keep your head down,” Glitz said. The quietest of the team, unless he was blowing something up, Heim was surprised he said anything. But as the ISIS agents lined up to throw stones at Katya, Heim leapt to his feet. He paced, glaring at the screen, willing his rage and hatred to take them down. It was a recording, but he wanted to rewrite history.

  “She told me she was a princess in a tower,” Heim told his team. “This beautiful woman, who could have anyone, you know who she said she wanted to ride up and save her?”

  “Who?” Hawk asked, his voice low and quiet.

  “A warrior. One that would blow the fucking tower down and catch her when she jumped out the window.”

  “I think I like Princess already,” Snake said. Heim didn’t miss he’d named the girl.

  “Princess works. A lot less delicate than butterfly, considering the story,” Hawk seconded.

  “She yours, Heim?” Welsh asked.

  Heim looked to her father, right in the eyes. “Hell yeah she is, and she’ll know it soon.”

  “You bring her back, Heim, and you have my damn blessing,” Arnold said.

  “Hawk, what you got in that area?” Heim asked. It was business time now, and he was going to go get his girl.

  “They haven’t been known to come that way. Dubai is in the center of the United Arab Emirates, and the strongholds for ISIS have been noted in North Iraq into Syria and even in Libya. How they took her from there is surprising. And the time of the video back, with what information you provided, gave them, at most, four hours. Not too many places they could travel that quickly and set up all that.”

  “Unless they have a sleeper cell closer,” Cry Baby added. As the team's logistics and warfare expert, he normally worked closely with Hawk, who could provide intel on the areas.

  “Even then, the amount of communication, proxies, and lines to provide service to those areas can be immense,” Welsh said. Communications was his strong suit, and if there was some new server handling this ISIS video feed, he’d find it.

  “It’s plausible,” Snake said. “There have been quite a few more Russian followers into ISIS, though they are flying under the radar in Russian news. That one that hit her? He called her suka, it means bitch. And his pronunciation was flawless. I bet my left nut that Russian was his milk-tongue. Can always tell when it’s not.”

  “Then we are looking at a new cell perhaps, looking to make a name for themselves, and not that close from the UAE. Could be dangerous for them that close to Saudi,” Heim said.

  “Could be,” Snake agreed.

  “And Saudi would be a nice place to come in through. Looking at the geology in that cell? The rust color blending with the others? Don’t see that in too many places, but I know a few.”

  “You have a tip?” Arnold asked Heim.

  “I think, but I don’t want to say for sure before I reach out. Permission to bring in a second SEAL team and a contact?” Heim asked his commander.

  “Granted,” Arnold answered instead. “I brought you in because your team has the highest rate of hostage return of any team. If you think you need to bring another SEAL unit in for logistics, so be it.”

  “Fuck yeah, I get to see Mozart again,” Cry Baby. As a fellow “pretty boy”, Cry Baby and Sam “Mozart” Reed had become fast friends on a previous mission.

  “This one isn’t about getting you wet, boys. We bring Princess back safely,” Heim warned.

  “And blow up everything else,” Glitz said.

  “I’m for that,” Heim answered. Dismissed to coordinate the mission, tools, and facts they gleaned, Heim stepped out the room to call Wolf. He was going to need some help on this one, and not just from Tex.

  Chapter Eight

  Heim

  “This had better be life and death, Heim. I was busy,” Matthew “Wolf” Steel answered.

  Heim sighed. From his position against the outside wall of the meeting room, he could hear the echo of a loud gunshot. His team watched the video, over and over, gleaning clues from what they saw. They left Heim to work on the lead he’d captured while they supported him. Hearing the footage, though, didn’t make the shit easier to chew. Each harsh word, yell, or hit sent him into a tailspin. His head ached and a boulder pressed against his ribcage.

  He wondered if Wolf felt like this when his wife was taken.

  “Tell Caroline I’m sorry,” Heim told Wolf.
Caroline, or Ice and Wolf’s wife, may not have been the most beautiful woman in the world, but Heim knew what she did for Wolf and his SEAL brothers after a terrorist attack on a plane. She saved their lives, more than once, and knew just what it took to love a SEAL. Even took torture, never uttering a single thing but a phrase that helped locate where the traitor FBI agent took her.

  “She’s busy, I’ll pass on your regards later.”

  “You’re such a gentleman. Next life, I swear. You and me,” Heim crooned.

  “You couldn’t handle me, pipsqueak and you know it. What’s this about? You talk shit, but I can hear your voice shaking.”

  Heim flinched. If there was ever a man he had emulated as a SEAL team leader, it was Wolf. For Wolf to hear him so shaken didn’t sit well. “I need to pull your team in for a mission. It’s been approved through command.”

  “This mission about killing that guy back East? Because if it is, I’m all for that,” Wolf asked.

  Heim swallowed passed a lump in his throat. Fuck, but his chest was tight. Everything died when he thought of Jillian. Three years. Three fucking years, and just the thought of his former team member Gary “Trench” Rogers made his skin itch. When a SEAL fell in love, nothing could stop it. He ensured he made it home, and he respected the woman he gave his heart to. At least, that was what Heim believed, following his father’s footsteps. Jillian changed all of that. Two deployments later, he came home to find her and Trench in their own version of a pretzel. The bloody fight that ensued nearly cost them both some rate changes. Instead Heim had been transferred, while Trench lost his SEAL status, and left the Navy soon after.

  “I don’t think he’s worth it at this point. But then it took me finding Princess to realize that,” Heim answered.

  “Princess?” Wolf asked.

  “The short side of the story is MCPON’s daughter has been taken by ISIS agents.”

  “Fuck. Hold on. Excuse me, baby.”

  Shuffling and soft curses came over the line before a few clicks. Heim tilted his head back against the cool wall behind him. Taking a second SEAL team would greatly increase Katya’s chances of survival, but they had to handle things right. Heim knew he’d be able to count on Wolf and his men.

  “Secure line active. Give me a second and I’ll get Abe, Mozart, Cookie, Dude, and Benny on.”

  “Pull Tex, if you can. We’re going to need him.”

  “That bad, huh? Stand by.”

  Static and clicks sounded on the line.

  “Abe here. Wolf? Everything okay?”

  “Hold on Abe, details coming. Roll call, who’s on line?”

  “Dude here.”

  “Mozart here.”

  “Benny here.”

  “Cookie here.”

  “Tex here.”

  “That’s everyone. SEALs we’ve got a mission,” Wolf told them.

  “Hooyah!”

  “Heim? Your floor,” Wolf said.

  “Between 0300 and 0400 hours MCPON’s daughter, codenamed Butterfly, was captured by ISIS agents.”

  “You shitting me? Of course you’re not,” Mozart said.

  “Where was she taken from?” Abe asked.

  Heim sighed. He’d have to explain further his fuck up. If he’d heard her get out of bed, or known she’d attempted to move around, he would have probably stopped her from leaving in the first place. Or, at the very least, would have been aware how long she was gone and got on the move.

  “Dubai. No too long after leaving my bed.”

  Silence. And then a deep whistle. “Screwed the pooch a bit on that one, son. Literally. Her daddy lay you out yet?” Tex asked.

  Heim rubbed his jaw that still ached. “Yeah, you could say that.”

  “What does ISIS want with her? She doesn’t have any political prowess. Nor is she a major public figure. Military wise, we know how important she is, but would they know?” Dude asked.

  “MCPON is a big deal, and we all know that many terrorist enjoy taking military personnel to prove a point,” Abe mused.

  “They want to exchange her for Tel Abyad Al Britani,” Heim answered.

  “No, not happening. They won’t trade him and we all know it,” Wolf said.

  “Tel not only has ties through affluent areas of Syria, Russia, and even into Britain, he also helps maintain the media wing. Or he did. He personally holds the server records for thousands and thousands of jihadists. We’ve been trying to get info from him for some time,” Tex said.

  “His name was on that leaked list of ISIS fighters from a year ago. The break led to his capture,” Mozart added.

  “I know there is no chance for a trade. Everyone knew this from the outset. They will execute someone every day, until we get there. The men are kept in the room with her. You can see how this may go,” Heim explained. “The video will be shown once more, here at base, on closed-circuit in one hour. All hands on deck and then we move out,” he added.

  “She yours, Heim?” Wolf asked.

  “Aye, Wolf. She’s mine.”

  “We’ll be there in thirty. Tex can commune through link up. We’ll get her.”

  *****

  Wolf strolled in ready to go. His team followed suit, each carrying their go bags and documentation. Heim appreciated their thoughtfulness. Once they were on the move, there was no telling when they’d be able to stop. Heim shook Wolf’s hand.

  “Thank you,” he said quietly.

  Wolf approached him and laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. “All you ever have to do is ask.”

  They shared a look before Heim nodded and asked, “Tex?”

  “Once Abe gets the computer booted up you’ll be able to talk to him, and he can watch along with us.”

  “Go ahead and get everything set up that you need to.” A few minutes later, Wolf signaled they were ready to go.

  Heim watched the video with them. His gut rolled and his mouth dried. Every time he swallowed, he swore a stone was lodged right below his Adam’s apple. But he wouldn't ignore her strength and her fight. Wouldn’t turn away and hide from what happened when she hadn’t been able to.

  “Damn she’s strong,” Tex said. His southern drawl curled around the words as they echoed through the room. Thirteen men, trained to kill, search, rescue, and destroy, were helpless watching one of their own fight for her life. One night. It had only taken one night to grab hold of his heart, and Heim was determined to save her.

  He tried to speak, but nothing came out. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Princess has ten days, well nine and twelve hours if we want to be exact. I've been looking at the geological structure around her, and the timing. They had, at most, four hours to take, secure, and film her, before sending it off. That’s not a lot of time at all. The UAE would be unsafe for them at this point. They have no stronghold there and no way to blend in.”

  “And they are using Gulf Arabic, which is predominant in the Eastern Arabia around the Persian Gulf. We’re talking Kuwait, Iraq, Eastern Saudi, Bahrain, Qatar, Oman, and Iran,” Hawk explained.

  “Listen to the accent,” Cry Baby said.

  “What about it?” Mozart asked.

  “Kuwaiti Arabic is really different than Arabic spoken in, say, Qatar and UAE. Your first main clue is the accent. Looking at land masses around the UAE, and the fact that there are very few Gulf Arabic speaking people in Saudi itself, and taking in the timeframe, narrows it down.”

  “You’re looking at Qatar, gentleman. Where is going to be the issue, but I’ll get on that,” Tex said. “Give me twelve hours, I know it’s going to be hard, but we have to make sure that we hit the right spot. Qatar is small, affluent, and if they are housing a sleeper cell, the repercussion can be catastrophic. Not to mention if we get caught there.”

  “They’ll kill someone else in twelve hours,” Heim said.

  “We won’t be able to stop that. If we are right, and she’s in Qatar, then we need to know for sure. Anything less will mean mission failure.”

/>   He knew that. Fuck, he knew it. But that meant another video. Another man dead on the floor. Another life given for hers. One more horrendous event that he couldn’t save her from.

  “We will get her, Heim. I swear it. Wolf, get your sweet ass over here and help me get a listing of contacts that the pretty boys in suits would try first. I want to lead a trail away from us while my real contacts work,” Tex said.

  If anyone could find her, Heim believed Tex could.

  Chapter Nine

  Katya

  Three. A simple number, really. Two semicircles, their concave slopes aligned perfectly from top to bottom. Three congealed blood stains on the floor. The scents of decay and waste hung in the air, choking her. Her fellow captives glared at her with hate and fear, much different than when they first came to the room. Then they’d all be partners, sharing in fear and worry. Even the first death hadn’t broken them. No, instead one used his shirt to clean her face as best he could before cowering down to the ground again. Another wiped her legs and ripped material off his pants to wrap around her bleeding wrists.

  He died on the second day.

  And his brother died on day three.

  Her tongue was thick and slow in her mouth. Each time she tried to moisten her chapped lips, the salt of her sweat dried her mouth. Listless and weak, she couldn’t force her head to stay upright. Split skin on her lips throbbed as she sucked on her tongue, trying to gather saliva. The dry, sticky clicks of her tongue echoed off the walls. No water. No food. No help. She wouldn’t live to day ten. And her captors had learned from the first day. Instead of coming close enough for her to strike out, they instead filmed her from the front of the room. Executions were performed by a single bullet into the huddling mass of bodies around her.

  Today was day four.

  “She is a demon, she must be,” one captive said. His dirt red shirt was caked with grimy sand and sweat stains. Thin in frame, his knees were knobs above stick shins. The malice in his gaze, though, was powerful.

  “Quiet, Zaid. She is as much victim as we. As the Yazidis they take as slaves to rape and kill,” the man to his left said.