by KaLyn Cooper
The ringing bell alarm meant to abandon ship. Bell? Something there wasn’t quite right.
Get the hell out of bed.
He mentally searched for the blaring words, “All hands on deck.” Instead, he heard pounding on his door. It wasn’t the clanking of a fist on metal as it should be, though.
“Management,” a male tenor voice called through the wooden door. “We have an emergency and must evacuate the hotel.”
What the fuck? Fully awake now, Josh surveyed the well-appointed room. Everything seemed fine. No smoke, but he heard water running through pipes. No, not running...gushing.
Thankful he’d worn silk boxers to bed. He leaped from the bed, and his feet sank into wet, soggy carpet.
Shit. And that’s what it smelled like. His stomach revolted. He swallowed hard and breathed through his mouth as he’d been trained when faced with repugnant odors.
Rolling to his toes so as little of his feet as possible touched the soaked floor, he strode to the door. “What?”
The very young bellman looked harried and scared at what Josh knew was a scowl that had put the fear of God into warriors. “Sir...uh...you have to leave the hotel immediately.” His voice broke. “There was a...uh...sewer line break on the eleventh floor.” Gathering his resolve, he tugged at the thigh-length red jacket. “They are trying to get everyone into other hotels”—he stared down the hall before continuing—“but it doesn’t look promising.”
Well, hell.
“I...I gotta finish this floor.” The young man pointed down the hall. “Sorry.” He scooted to the next room and was pounding on the door before Josh could say a word.
With the efficiency of living in small quarters and out of travel bags, Josh quickly packed. Thankful he’d left most of his clothes in the bag on the provided suitcase stand, he dressed in tourist attire of cargo shorts and a polo shirt while standing on a chair. Feet were easier to clean than his shoes, and he’d seen outdoor showers between the beach and the pool. Duffle thrown over one shoulder—just as he’d hoisted a sea bag for more than twenty-six years—computer bag slung over the other, Josh headed for the stairs. Three flights was nothing for him and they’d be dry since they were fireproof.
He exited onto the pool level and headed into the darkness for the empty beach. The alarms were quieter here but still rang loud enough to wake the occupants of the condominiums on either side. Lights shone in several rooms, and a few people had wandered onto their balconies.
He felt exposed. A sniper—
Stop that! No one is hunting you. Your cover is clean and in place.
He took a deep breath and caught whiffs of rank sewer. He wondered how much of the smell had embedded in his clothes. Maybe even in his skin.
After scrubbing his feet and legs for several minutes, he scanned the area once again for potential danger, his gaze stopping on a palapa fifty feet away, white side curtains flapping in the nightly ocean breeze. He headed that direction and dug out his encrypted satellite phone.
“Good morning, sir. Karns here. Is there a situation?”
Josh knew all of his ops team well and this man had been with him several months, through more missions than he wanted to count right now.
“Check the chatter and see if my name’s been dropped.”
Before Josh could continue, Karns said, “No, sir, it hasn’t. Per SOP, we tagged your name and all cover info. I’ve been on since eleven and not a hit. Is there a problem? Do you need extraction?” Thank God Josh had revised the Standard Operating Procedures the week he’d taken over the Terrorist Division. He never thought he’d be the one using that order, though.
Josh laid his bags on the ocean-side bed and slumped onto the thick, queen-size mattress. He checked his watch. 3:46. “I’m probably paranoid, but the sewer system broke in my hotel. I’ll need new quarters immediately.”
“Sorry, sir, but that’s going to be a problem. Travel doesn’t come in until eight o’clock. They control all those arrangements.” Karns chuckled. “Seems weird. I can move a satellite to cover you, send you any kind of fire power you need, tap into assets anywhere in the world, but I can’t make you a hotel reservation that Uncle Sam will pay for.”
“Fucking bureaucracy,” Josh agreed. He’d do it himself and worry about the expense account later. “Let me see what I can find on my own. I’ll let you know my plans. Call me if you get even a niggling that this was anything more than an accident.”
“Yes, sir. Operations out.”
The line went dead.
Josh fired up his computer and started burning up international minutes on his cell phone. He was gruff as he called what seemed like every hotel on the thin peninsula called Hotel Zoneria. Two hours sleep hadn’t been enough. He wasn’t the young man he’d been once. Although thankful Jack and buddies packed it in at one in the morning rather than shutting the club down, he’d had a good time. Especially dancing with Lilly. It had been a long time since he’d allowed himself to enjoy the company of a woman, without the expectation of sex by the end of the night. It was...nice. Normal.
As the moon disappeared and the sky fell to black, an hour or more before dawn, Josh tossed the dying phone next to his bags. The bellman had been right, not a room to be had. Many helpful desk clerks had suggested Playa del Carmen. He’d try there after a combat nap. His body, and brain, required rest. He stretched out, took a deep breath, and relaxed every muscle as he exhaled. In the next breath, he was in that sleep stage just below the surface but aware of any changes around him.
Exactly one hour later, Josh awoke refreshed. He pulled up hotels on the Riviera Maya and began checking availability online. The sixth inquiry scored him a room that he couldn’t get into until three in the afternoon. Jack was to pick him up at four to go diving, so the timing would work out. He texted Jack his new hotel address.
Seconds later, his phone rang.
“You’ll do no such thing,” Jack chastised. “You’ll stay at my place.”
Two hours later, the door-less, topless Rubicon pulled up to what Josh thought was a gated community similar to the resorts they’d passed on the busy four-lane highway from Cancun. Ten-foot iron gates with a golden G encircled with ornate ironwork slid open as the Jeep approached and closed quickly after they passed through. Light tan bricks edged by dark red ones wound through half a mile of controlled jungle landscape, typical of a high-end development.
A two-story building, bathed yellow in the early morning light, emerged as they rounded a bend. Thick green grass swept between islands of well-established palm trees and flowering hibiscus as tall as a man. Two-story wings ran down each side, and Josh imagined it to be the community center for the neighborhood.
They passed the mansion-style edifice along a garage topped with a sunbathing deck. The end door opened and Jack drove into one of the largest garages Josh had ever seen. On the wall to his right, the doors and hard roof to the Rubicon hung on hooks.
“Everyone shares a garage?” Josh stepped out of the Jeep.
With a questioning look, Jack answered, “Yeah.” He threw the strap of Josh’s bag over his shoulder with ease. “Follow me.”
“I appreciate the rescue, but you didn’t need to do this.” Josh kept pace as they walked the length of the sparkling clean garage.
Must be some kind of really nice condo Jack lives in. They walked past a pearl white Mercedes sedan that sat in the next space over, followed by a black Mercedes SUV.
“So how long have you lived here?” Josh questioned.
“Ever since I got out of the Navy. Although the land has been in the family for over a century, Gramps built the original house about fifty years ago.”
A Land Rover that had seen hard use, sat beside a new blue BMW with its top down.
“You mean this whole place is yours?” Josh had known Jack was wealthy and always wondered why the young man had chosen to torture his body and mind with the daily ordeal of being a SEAL, then have bad people all over the world try to kill him, but ev
ery man had his secrets. Josh had never imagined the younger man had come from this kind of affluence.
“It belongs to my family, but I’m the only one who lives here. The others live in Chicago and drop in for vacation. Everyone is here for the wedding and to finalize the cruise line acquisition.”
Josh stopped in front of the car at the end. A million dollar stack of red metal, aerodynamically sculpted over eight hundred eighty-seven horses gleamed in the form of a Porche 918 Spyder.
“Whose beauty is this?” Josh wanted to drool.
“Mine.” Both men eyed the high gloss symbol of male virility and status. Jack sighed. “Too bad I’ve got to sell that little baby.”
“What?” was all Josh could manage to say.
Jack shrugged. “That part of my life is finished. I don’t need a look-at-me car to impress women and tell every man in Mexico that my dick, and bank account, is bigger than theirs. I need something safe for Jillian to drive the kids around in, although the new Beamer was her graduation present.” Their eyes met, and Jack grinned. “She has to get back and forth to the university and museum in something. She loves it, and I love her.”
Josh nodded. “Kids? I thought Jillian only had one. A daughter.”
Jack’s grin broke into a huge smile. “Only one right now. We’re working on changing that as soon as possible.”
Josh wanted to scream at the younger man. No. Don’t do that. Didn’t you learn anything in the SEALs? The world is filled with people who want to kill all Americans and eradicate our way of life. Children have no business coming into a world where they—
Stop! Keep your mouth shut. Not everyone feels the same way you do about kids. Just do your part to keep all Americans safe...catch those fucking terrorists headed to the U.S.A. before they can hurt some other innocent people.
He smacked Jack on the shoulder and forced a smile. “Good for you.” For getting laid every night wasn’t said. Josh couldn’t utter the words that ran through his brain because Jack believed in a world where he could protect his family.
Josh hoped that would always be true. It hadn’t been for him. And the man next to him had been willing to put his life on the line to save Josh’s brother...or wreak chaos and destruction on his murderers. Fucking politics.
He followed Jack through a door and made an immediate right down a hall. “I’m going to put you in my old room.”
“No, Jack. I can’t put you out.”
“No problem. Jillian and I are living in the pool house.” Jack opened the second door on the right and walked into a large, masculine suite. He tossed Josh’s bag on the overstuffed brown couch in the sitting area.
“Head is over there.” Jack pointed to the bathroom door, standing ajar, a slice of blue light illuminating its edges. He strode to the wall of blackout curtains and pulled them back, revealing a view of a large quad with an Olympic-sized pool. His friend opened the sliding door, and without invitation, Josh followed him outside.
A ten foot overhang cast them in shadows as the sun shot bright rays into the clear morning while trying to remain hidden behind the earth. He could see the tiniest yellow rim peek over a turquoise sea of what would create another warm Caribbean day.
“Jillian, Addi, and I live over there in the three-bedroom pool house.” He nodded toward the thatched roof building on the far side of the rippling pool. “Beyond those dunes is the ocean. We own from the dock on the left and about a thousand feet to the right.” He glanced over at Josh. “For now. I’m negotiating with the owners next door to buy the place. They’re getting older and never here anymore. We love this place, but it’s my family’s vacation home. We need a place of our own...and privacy.”
“Quite a place.” Josh checked out the twelve-foot concrete walls that ran down both sides and security cameras. Some were well-hidden while others were an overt message that this area was protected.
“It’s felt like home most of my life, and has been the last four years.” They stood quietly for several minutes, drinking in the dawn, just as they had many times on the deck of a ship at sea. Finally, Jack said, “It was a short night for you. Pull the drapes, and it’ll block out all the light and most of the noise. The little ones get up early and like to join me for a morning swim. Be warned, screaming and giggling are usually involved, along with lots of splashing. Breakfast is served around seven-thirty on that sideboard, usually buffet style, now that everyone is here. Please join us. There’s plenty of room at the table. We try to control the zoo before the animals get out of hand. You should be safe.”
“Thanks. I’m not sure which I need more, another few hours of sleep or a long, hard swim in the ocean followed by a big breakfast.” Josh wanted to stretch his muscles after the commercial flight down which had been needed to maintain his cover. He’d only gotten a brief workout in the hotel gym before heading to the club last night.
“We’re not leaving until four this afternoon for our dive, so you have time for both,” Jack suggested. “I was about to work out when you texted, but we can get in a short run on the beach, just a few miles, then swim back before everyone gets up.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He turned to face Jack. “Meet you back here in ten?”
“Getting slow, old man?” Jack chided.
“Make it five, youngster.” The sides of Josh’s mouth kicked up. “I packed in a hurry last night and it might take a minute to locate my trunks.”
An hour later, Josh was once again in an outdoor shower, this time as he rinsed saltwater and sand from his tired body. A perfect workout.
He rotated his body in the spray to check his surroundings noting a beautiful palapa with two queen-sized beds now covered in crisp white sheets and a tall table between them. Maybe he’d come out there and sleep in the shade while listening to the ocean rush to the fantastic beach they had raced down. The sound of the ocean as it rocked from one continent to another was one of his favorites. Peaceful. Josh needed a little peace in his life and was thankful for this sanctuary.
After twisting the water off, he stepped down from the wooden platform and was smacked in the face with warm, soft terrycloth that smelled of sunshine and detergent.
“I gotta head to the pool for kid time. You’re welcome to join me.” Jack checked his large black dive watch. “Breakfast should be down soon, but I’m sure there’s hot coffee waiting for us now. Mateo, our cook, knows me well.”
Servants. Josh looked at the clean sheets on the palapa beds and his worries of Jillian having to cook for the whole Girard clan vanished. What a privileged life this man had left to serve his country. The why of it was a puzzle.
Josh had joined because his family had served for generations. The men in the last three had all been Naval Academy graduates, like himself. Sean had followed him into the academy a few years behind, but his brother taken a different path with his life. Fucking politics.
Josh and Jack walked the plank path that skirted the low sand dunes forming the barrier to the private beach. As they entered the brick paved quad, the scent of coffee filled the air.
Oh, yes. A cup of java and one of those mesh lounge chairs next to the pool to enjoy the peace of the morning. Perfection.
A blonde streak in a frilly pink bathing suit dashed out of the circular pool house as they passed.
“Daddy.” The shrill call sliced through the quiet, as well as Josh’s plans for a peaceful cup of coffee.
Chapter 4
Lilly sat on her yoga mat, legs crossed in front of her, vaguely aware her pose wasn’t close to the preferred lotus position.
Yet.
She’d eventually get back to her pre-marriage and pre-babies flexibility. And self. The Asthtanga Yoga she’d loved and practiced while in law school was once again centering her body and her life.
Pleased she no longer needed the bolster under her lower back to complete the last three poses, she reached behind her back and grasped her elbows. She leaned forward and discovered she was nearly able to touch her chin to the f
loor.
Progress.
She sincerely regretted allowing her ex to convince her to work out at the gym with him.
She concentrated on her breathing, trying to match the ocean waves heard through the open glass doors facing the quad.
Inhale the positive energy of the world. Exhale the negative. Muscle to bone. All towards centerline. Tighten the core.
Uddiyana banda. The words of her yogi sounded in her brain. She relaxed her body and let the energy flow along her spine.
Her two-hour practice ended with Lilly flat on her back concentrating on Uijayi, breathing. In on one wave, out on the next. She loved the rigidity and constant movement of yoga which was really all about controlling herself—body and mind.
She would run on the euphoric high it gave her for the rest of the day. Tomorrow morning, her body would crave a repeat, like an addict needed a fix.
The breathing reassured her that her lungs worked fine and the strength she gained every day, both physically and emotionally. She could handle anything the world threw at her. The practice reminded her to stay grounded and true to herself, just as she was to the mat.
She sat up and took in the ensuite room that had been hers all her life. It had seen several renovations from pink walls, lacy drapes, and She-Ra Warrior Princess sheets, through gauzy pastels reminiscent of a Disney castle, to all purple—though her grandmother had mandated it be at least three shades of the color so she could differentiate between the dressers and the walls. It was now oppressively elegant in rich jewel tones of burgundy and forest green, trimmed in gold.
Lilly hated it. He-who-she-wouldn’t-allow-to-ruin-her-high had suggested the renovation when they’d first been married and vacationed in Cancun. Maybe that was why for the past two years—as she and the boys came to Mexico more and more often without him—she’d preferred to stay in the brightly decorated pool house.
Yep. This shit had to go.
And today wouldn’t be soon enough.
Her gaze swept the room, cataloging everything she’d need to replace. When she eyed the oil painting over the heavily brocaded couch, it seemed incongruous with the rest. The scene was out of time and place, but Lilly had mandated it stay.
