Second Chance SEAL: The Girl He Left Behind (Sunset SEALs Book 2)

by Sharon Hamilton

  During the day, those buildings were generally not guarded.

  Damon, Renny, Coop and Fredo were assigned to break in, and verify this. And they had to do it in the middle of the day, without causing attention.

  The team wasn’t heavily armed. Fredo did carry his usual supply of flash bombs and explosive caps, but everyone else brought only their designated sidearm. In Damon’s case, it was his SigSauer. Coop carried a medic bag, and Fredo was responsible for communicating with Kyle.

  Armando and Danny had quietly broken into adjacent buildings to set up cover from the roof. One factory manufactured tee shirts, dresses, and other textiles for the tourist trade. The other was a packing and shipping operation. They’d been selected because of a series of external fire escapes, leading inside without detection. They signaled they were in place and Fredo gave the green light.

  The four others split up, each attempting to break in from opposite sides of their targeted buildings. Damon and Renny made it inside and noticed Fredo, who managed to jimmy a sliding metal door that had come off its track. They peered through the furniture, boxes and household goods stored in clusters around the ground floor. There were catwalks and tiny offices upstairs, but no real second floor. Under a tarp in the corner, a brand-new police vehicle was stored.

  Renny was in charge of taking pictures with the specialized phone, for uploading back home. Kyle gave the go-ahead to check out the offices upstairs. The team found them all completely vacant.

  Damon verified all clear in the rear alleyway while Fredo and Coop attempted to leave the broken cargo bay in the same condition as they’d found it. The other door was left locked.

  While Danny and Armando repositioned themselves, the four men loitered nearby, slowly working their way to the other building they needed to investigate.

  Given the all-clear, Damon and Renny couldn’t get the deadbolt open on the heavy metal door facing the narrow alleyway at the rear. They found an open window instead and crawled through. Fredo and Coop joined them. The four entered a small office, set up with a telephone, a copy machine, and a cot with pillow and folded blankets. The door leading to the warehouse portion locked from the inside. Fredo opened it a crack, and bright light shone through, nearly blinding them. Music played in the distance.

  The warehouse was not vacant but very much in use. Bright hanging fluorescent lights illuminated the huge space, revealing shipping boxes and wooden crates stacked over one story tall. Tables were laid out in lines, end to end. Piles of books sat at various places at the tables. A variety of mismatched chairs were placed along the lines for seating. A big screen T.V. hung from the wall. Two leather couches sat facing each other with a small trunk being used as a coffee table between them.

  But there wasn’t any evidence of anyone working there.

  Finally, a door opened. The sound of music got louder, and then they heard the remnants of a toilet flush as a male worker brought out his portable radio, set it on one of the tables, and sat with his back to them. He began boxing books in cardboard mailers.

  Coop motioned for Renny to take pictures before they closed the door and checked in with Kyle.

  “Check to see if the phone line is live,” Damon could hear Kyle’s squawk over Fredo’s mic. He picked up the receiver and heard a dial tone, nodded, which was then relayed to Kyle.

  Coop broke into a locked file cabinet and perused files inside, holding his flashlight in his mouth. He pulled out a letter and a couple other items, folded them, and tucked them into his vest.

  Damon located an untaped box of books ready to ship out. Inside were illustrated children’s bible stories, written in Portuguese. He held one up, and Coop directed him to tuck it in his medic backpack.

  “We’re done here,” whispered Fredo. “Moving out.

  All six of them returned with their goods to the Blue Marlin.

  “Wish we could have had a look upstairs in that building, so let’s assume they sometimes have a crew sleeping over, just to be safe,” Kyle said.

  “So, are we good to go tonight then?” asked Coop.

  “I think that’s everything we need. I agree, the wine storage facility is where we’ll likely find the girls and hopefully Samantha.”

  He gave instructions on who were on the two teams. Armando and Danny would first get into position to cover them from adjacent rooftops Armando had already picked out. The remaining ten would split into two teams and would break in, hopefully with the element of surprise.

  No one had seen Samantha Raymond during their many surveillance forays, but several other women with armed male escorts were seen entering the building only at night. During the day, two shooters were camped out on top of both buildings, frequently changing locations. And, they were wired. But at night, for some reason, the rooflines were left unguarded.

  “Get a power nap. No distractions or calling home. We got to be focused. Make sure you bring everything with you in case we don’t come back here, as nice as it is. Check your weapons, your tools of the trade, gents. We roll at midnight. It’s a new moon, so the odds are in our favor.”

  Kyle’s instructions were simple, and easy to follow. It was the unknown that always fucked with them, Damon thought to himself. He crashed hard as soon as his head hit the pillow.

  On the way to the site, Renny offered Damon some bubble gum. His mouth was parched, and he noted he hadn’t been hydrating enough. Of course, the salty food they’d been eating, especially the locally prepared fish dishes, didn’t help.

  Alexi and the other driver waited nervously while the Team took what they needed and left the rest, heading to the two buildings.

  Armando and Danny signaled they were in place and the roof was secure. Kyle gave the all clear for the rest of the team to get into position. It had been determined that no deliveries happened at night until early in the morning at 0600. That’s when trucks would be arriving to start loading freight, occasionally with an armed guard contingent in a Jeep or Rover of some kind. Their goal was to strike before any of the increased manpower arrived. The two breaches had to be timed perfectly.

  An abandoned chair sat outside the rear entrance, illuminated by a single bulb fixture.

  “Danny, can you kill the light?” Damon heard Kyle ask.

  A second later, they heard the ping of a rock and then the tinkle of glass as Danny’s slingshot removed the problem. They waited to see if anyone took notice, and after five minutes, continued with the plan.

  The other building was lit with a large high-pressure sodium vapor light mounted tall that would have to be shot out during the breach. They were ready. Kyle made the decision not to use their NV goggles because they expected someone would throw the lights on.

  Fredo first checked the door, and found it locked. He applied the explosive charge, while Coop rigged up the other building. With Armando and Danny ready—and the charges placed, Kyle gave the go.

  The blast tore the metal door off its hinges. Amongst the screams from what sounded like women, Fredo, Damon, Renny, and the others on their squad entered and quickly fanned out to the sides, their backs against the wall. It was pitch black until someone flipped the switch and the room lit up like Christmas. Fredo threw some smoke to help as the team looked for guards they expected would be present.

  Women and children ran back and forth in their night clothes through the smoke, looking for a safe place to hide. Two shooters started firing down on the SEALs. Jameson and Tucker quickly took them out.

  Damon tripped over a cot, which turned out to be lucky as he heard a round hit the concrete floor where he’d been standing. Before he could fully turn around, T.J. fired, hitting the shooter in the head. He tossed the MP5 over to Jameson, who would be their designated indoor sharpshooter, along with some clips.

  As Jameson focused on picking off men pouring out from several upstairs rooms, Damon and Renny counted the women and children, looking for Samantha. He called for Cooper when he found one of the girls had gotten caught in the crossfire and ha
d taken a round to the upper thigh that was bleeding out dangerously. The nimble medic quickly applied a tourniquet while Damon covered him and continued sorting the women.

  Renny’s scream pierced the air.

  “Go. I’m good,” yelled Coop. He pulled the young girl to the side and deposited her in the huddle of other prisoners.

  Damon found Renny on the ground, but alive. He’d been stabbed in the chest and somehow the blade had sliced under his armor. It was still protruding, the pearl handle covered in bloody fingerprints.

  T.J. nodded to another interior doorway, directing Damon to take out a man talking on a hand-held radio. Without any hesitation, he flew at the young guard, twisting his neck and sending him to the floor in a heap. When he opened the door, he spotted Samantha scampering to hide herself in the closet of a makeshift bedroom.

  “Sam? That you?” Damon asked.

  She slowly poked her head out between the clothes. Damon saw movement on his right and quickly disabled the young man holding a large machete over his head. The man’s arm was clearly broken, but Damon went down on his knees to break the guy’s neck when Samantha screamed, “No!”

  That’s when he realized the boy was Kwanda Freescott’s son.

  Tucker burst into the room and helped Damon remove Samantha and Mr. Freescott after securing his wrists in a zip tie. The painful process had the young man screaming as Samantha fought to be at his side.

  Damon held her by her hair. “I’m going to tie you up just like him if you don’t cooperate. We’re here to rescue, not assassinate. We’re taking you home.”

  “I don’t want to go home!” she screamed.

  Damon shoved her on the bed and zip tied her wrists, pushing her out of the room behind her lover. The building had become eerily calm, except for the moaning and crying of the huddled women and children.

  Fredo rushed over, eyeing the two captives. “Kyle wants to know how many.”

  “I counted twenty-two, plus these two.”

  Fredo relayed the message and came back with instructions. “We take them with us. He’s leading another seventeen over, and they’ll be turned over to the locals. We take these two back with us.”

  The other driver agreed to wait for the police, while Alexi drove them to the harbor. He tossed the Freescott kid to the side and took up a seat next to Renny. T.J. gave him a wink and nod, indicating he was free to mess with his buddy to keep his mood light until they got some medical attention.

  “Just another day in paradise, right?”

  “Fuck you, Damon. I see you went for the girl while I took the blade.”

  “Yeah, I got the cushy job, didn’t I?”

  He saw Kyle smile and lean against a window as the van bounced around, eventually coming to a two-lane freeway with a sign showing a boat, water and an arrow.

  “See that? We’re going on a little fishing trip, Renny.”

  His friend’s eyes got wide. “I’m not standing anywhere near you, Damon.”

  Now that would be funny, puking all over the Team.

  With all the adrenaline coursing through his system, he figured it was the same as consuming a full bottle of Dramamine.

  But it still would be funny.

  Chapter 16

  Martel anxiously watched the ground rise up to meet the plane’s landing gear. It had been three months since she’d seen Damon, though they talked frequently on video chat. When she learned about Renny, she didn’t even mind that occasionally he’d pop up on the screen, his chest still wrapped in white bandages.

  She’d had lots of time to think about what might or might not happen this trip. It needed to be more than just a good time. If they were going to take their relationship to the next level, which meant revealing her decision of ten years ago, it had to be something she was certain of. What Damon was asking was for her to see herself living with him in California. Taking her from the roots she’d planted in Florida, tearing her away from the beautiful sunsets and the white beach. Nothing in California could ever match that.

  But she would give it an honest try. She guarded her expectations. She was looking for real this time.

  Damon met her at the luggage turnstile. He’d let his stubble grow, and it roughed him up and gave him an even more masculine, older look she liked.

  “Hey, babe. I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered as they embraced. He carefully placed a long kiss on her lips in full view of the entire planeload of passengers. She could tell her cheeks had pinked up.

  “Me too. Merry almost Christmas!”

  “I’m not thinking Christmas at all. I’m so distracted with you being here, it could be Valentine’s or Fourth of July.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Valentine’s is fun. I like that one.”

  “Oh, you do, do you?” he answered, his hand smoothing over her butt and making her jump.

  “You’re ruining my reputation,” she whispered.

  “Oh, they know. Look at them,” he said as he caught several people watching them. “They know what you’re all about.”

  He picked up her bag, and they walked through the lobby to the short-term parking lot. Damon opened the passenger door of his brand new bright blue Hummer, and helped her up the step to inside the cab.

  “You went shopping.”

  “I didn’t want to ferry you around in my Jasmine.”

  Jasmine had been the name of his old Ford pick-up he’d owned ten years ago. “You still had her? You mean you left her out to pasture?”

  He smiled and closed the door. He tucked her suitcase into the second seat. Once behind the steering wheel, he explained.

  “Jasmine was costing me a small fortune to keep her tuned up and working reliably. She was letting me down a bunch. So she’s now happy, getting greasy with all those old crusty guys at the wrecking yard. She was a classic, but after we got back, I decided I’d reward myself with a new set of wheels. Meet Monica.”

  They drove down along the waterfront district, past several cruise ships in port, and several military floating museums, including the USS Midway. Tall silvery structures overlooked a packed marina filled with expensive yachts. They passed the Convention Center and continued South and then across the Coronado Bridge to the strand.

  “Are you tired or are you up for a burger and a brew?”

  “I want to see some place where you hang out. Some place, that Scupper, is that it? Is that nearby?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She noticed the sun had set some time ago, but the orange glow didn’t stain the sky as long as it did in Florida. But the weather was nice, even in the middle of December.

  “You’re looking for the sunset, aren’t you?”

  “I’ve gotten accustomed to it.”

  “They’re nice here, but Florida’s warmer, when it doesn’t hurricane.”

  Walking through the doors at the Scupper, she studied the artwork covering the walls, pictures of Team guys and sailors, photos of various ships, flags from different campaigns, and copies of telegrams and letters from Presidents. One entire wall contained pictures of young men who had not been able to come home. It was very sobering. Damon watched her carefully.

  They were seated outside on the patio, next to a fire pit.

  Everything she saw was unfamiliar. It was busier and larger than her sleepy little Sunset Beach town. The cars were more expensive and the streets were teaming with groups of handsome muscled men and young women out having a good time. She could feel right away it was a faster pace, like how Sonoma County had felt when she returned there after living in Oregon for the year on the coast and for her college.

  He kept watching her.

  “What do you think?”

  “It suits you, I can see. You’re happy here, aren’t you, Damon?”

  He nodded and sipped on his beer. “Very.”

  She raised her glass and toasted him. “That’s why I like it.”

  The touch of his hands on her body was like heaven. She even felt slightly embarrassed stand
ing naked against him in the shower. He soaped all the airport and Florida dust from her skin, massaged the back of her neck until she relaxed and became putty in his arms again. It didn’t take long. He was patient.

  Their fooling around in the shower spilled over to the bedroom, where at last they lay together, wet but warmed by the sensual shower. He pulled the comforter over them, making a tent. She felt the creases at the sides of his mouth, the way his ears felt like velvet, the smell of his chest even though she’d soaped him off and rinsed him with her bare hands. His whispers drew out all her animal spirits until at last he touched her like it was the first time.

  As she peaked, her orgasm taking over her body, she held him as tightly as she was able. She needed to feel him deep and to experience how well they fit together and how she never wanted to let him go.

  Her life was full, surrounded by strong women from her past, and a mission and fire in her soul. She was living the life, holding the man in her arms that few women had the good fortune to love. He was fearless, and through that, everything was possible.

  For now, she tossed aside her worries as well as her plans and just enjoyed the way he coveted her and turned that night into magic.

  He took her to breakfast at a restaurant beside the Convention Center, where they meandered down the pier, eyeing expensive yachts from all over the world.

  “I came here the morning after I went skydiving for the first time,” he said. “I was scared shitless, and after doing that, I just wanted to stock up on carbs big time. I felt as strong as a Sherman tank, and as light as a feather!”

  “If that is your way of asking if I’d like to jump out of a plane, I have to tell you that I’m an earth person. I do gardens, enjoy roadtrips, and love beaches and beautiful blue water. But floating through the sky? I don’t think I could ever do that.”