SEAL Camp

by Suzanne Brockmann

  “In my version of the report, I’m going to refer to them as the quitters,” Jim interjected. “It’ll make it a little more brief and to the point.”

  “And one of them made a comment about Lieutenant King—”

  “A disparaging comment,” Jim added.

  “At that point in the conversation, that was open to interpretation,” Ashley said, “so that won’t go into my report. But he definitely them-ed the lieutenant. It wasn’t quite a full those people, but it was close—”

  “So Team Leader DeWitt responded to his comment,” Jim continued, “as if he’d meant all men with his douchebaggy them—not just the ones who aren’t, you know, blindingly white.”

  Ashley looked at him. “Will you be using douchebaggy in your report, Lieutenant?”

  He managed to keep a straight face as he nodded. “That or asshole-ish. I haven’t quite made up my mind about that word choice yet.”

  She nodded—she, too, was working hard not to laugh. “The man in question—”

  “The douchebaggy quitter.” Jim interrupted her again. “Yeah, that rings right. I’m definitely using that.”

  That one broke her. “The douchebaggy quitter,” she repeated as she laughed, “attempted to put me in my place by calling me sweetheart, and then ended up referring to Lieutenant King as that boy, clarifying his racist meaning of his previously-used them, and causing Lieutenant Slade to respond by slamming on the brakes and threatening to leave all three previously mentioned quitters at the side of the road.”

  “Oh, my God,” Clark was wide-eyed and grinning. “I wish I’d been there.”

  “It was rather wonderful,” Ashley said. “I was impressed.”

  Really…? “Subjective opinions generally stay out of reports,” Jim pointed out.

  “Generally,” Ashley agreed. “But in this case, your actions were in direct support of both Lieutenant King—and me. I want to make sure, first, that Dunk understands that, and secondly, that both you and he know how very much I appreciated what you did and said. Speaking up is important. It matters.”

  Jim was sitting there, grinning at her like an idiot, and she was smiling back at him, and okay, yeah, he was supposed to be distracting Clark. He cleared his throat and said, “Well, okay,” as he turned back to the kid. He cleared his throat a second time. Where was he before they were sidetracked… Ah, writing skills. “That was the deciding factor, for me—to join the Navy as an officer—the fact that writing is one of my strengths. And I’m not saying I like it, either, but I can definitely get it done efficiently. And that’s important because officers and enlisted go through BUD/S—SEAL training—together. The challenges are the same for all SEAL candidates—it’s honestly the hardest thing I’ve ever done—but the officers also have to be, well, officers. And that means we write reports, if reports need to get written. Same goes after you’re a SEAL. You get back from training, or even an op, and everyone showers and goes out for a beer, except not so fast there you—because the officers need to write up their reports.”

  “Why would anyone want to be an officer?” Clark asked, but then answered his own question. “Because you’re in command.”

  “Ding,” Jim said. “Also, the uniforms are prettier.”

  “What do you wish you knew,” Ashley asked, “before you went through BUD/S? I mean, what do you know now—what have you learned—that would’ve helped you as a… you called it a SEAL candidate…?”

  “Yeah, candidate, and that’s… a very good question,” Jim said. “I would say… Go in knowing your strengths, and your weaknesses. Know what you’re good at—as well as what you’re not. Be realistic about it. And then find the guys who can’t do what you can, and help them. And the ones who learn to turn around and do the same for you—to help you with the challenges that they can do well but you can’t…? They’re the ones you keep close. They’ll be your teammates for life.”

  Clark was nodding. Ashley had never seen her brother listening quite so intently.

  “Because think of it like this,” Jim said. “Okay. First, the best mindset for going into BUD/S is to be open to everything. And to recognize that it’s attitude that’s going to get you through the program. Too many people focus on the physicality. Yeah, you need to be strong, and you need to be fast, well, fast enough. I’m one of those fast-enough guys—or I was, once-upon-a-time. But my strength is that I don’t quit. I may not win the race, but I can run forever—or I could. You know, before Knees-mageddon…? I can still swim forever. Again, I’m not winning the race, but if you need someone to cross the channel with only a pair of fins, I’m your man.

  “At the same time, when I’m making a team for an op, I’m gonna look for someone who is fast—like Rio Rosetti or your sister, here.” He pointed to Ashley. “And I’m gonna want a hospital corpsman along for the ride, like Thomas King. A chief like Dunk. A gear-head, a sniper, a languages expert… Everyone’s got a skill—a strength—that makes them elite. And yeah, we can all shoot, and swim, and run, and we all know first aid, and most of us have at least two other languages we can use to communicate in a pinch. But when you put us together, into a seven or eight man team…? We’re the very best of all of us. We’re unstoppable.

  “Now,” he said, “when you go into BUD/S, there’s a tendency for guys to connect—to become friends—with like-minded guys. Gear-heads find other gear-heads. Snipers hangout with other snipers. But if you’re an officer, you should go into the training looking for the enlisted man who’s gonna be your chief. Of course there’re no guarantees you’ll end up in the same SEAL Team, but you might. And friendships forged in BUD/S are unbreakable.”

  * * *

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re… welcome…?” Jim seemed surprised and not entirely certain what Ashley was talking about as they waited for the hospital valet to bring up their car.

  Kenneth’s parents and his twin sister, Louise, had finally arrived, and all of them—Clark included—were finally allowed in to see Kenneth. Clark wanted to stay overnight at the hospital, and Kenneth’s mom, Mary, was happy to share that job with him. It was clear that she adored Clark.

  But now it was well after midnight.

  Jim had insisted on paying the parking fee, and Ashley had been too exhausted to argue.

  They finally were alone—for the first time since he’d kissed her.

  Since she’d kissed him. Fair was fair. He may have started it, but she’d taken it and run.

  “Thank you for taking Clark at his word,” she said now, as they stood in the wiltingly humid Florida night. “You didn’t say if you’re serious about becoming a SEAL or if you’re really going to go to BUD/S. You just… spoke to him like you believed him.”

  “I do believe him,” Jim said.

  She smiled at him. “Thank you for that.”

  He smiled back at her. “Watching you with Clark was… Well, you’re his sister, but you’re also, kind of, his mom.”

  “He was a baby when our mother died.”

  “Which means that you must’ve been a baby, too. He’s not that much younger than you.”

  “Ten years,” she said. “Huge difference between twelve and two.”

  “That must’ve been…” Jim shook his head. “I’m so sorry. I mean, my mom still sends me care packages. I don’t see her that often, but it’s nice to know that she and Dad are always just a phone call away.”

  “You should go home to visit them while your knees heal,” Ashley said. She laughed. “Although, I don’t even know where you’re from.”

  The valet arrived with the camp SUV. “Everywhere and nowhere,” Jim told her as he opened the passenger side door for her. “Dad was Navy, too. We moved around a lot. Right now they’re in Santa Fe. My sister’s there, she’s got a coupla kids. They’re doing the grandparent thing.”

  “That could be fun. Visiting them…?” Ashley said as he climbed behind the wheel.

  The look he shot her was filled with amusement. “You and I have d
ifferent definitions of fun.” He pulled out onto Tamiami Trail—the main road, heading south. There wasn’t much traffic this time of night and it wouldn’t take them long to get back to the camp.

  Ashley cleared her throat. About that kiss… But when she opened her mouth, she couldn’t say the words. Besides, she was curious. “So… where do you think of as home?” she asked instead.

  “Wherever the Teams are,” he said without hesitation. But then he laughed. “I guess I learned early on that home isn’t a place—an apartment or a house or even any specific town or city. That was always temporary—and it still is. Give me a tent and a bedroll, and I’ll be happy. I mean, yeah, a toilet and a shower’s always nice, but… When I was a kid, the only truly consistent thing in my life was the ocean—the smell of the spray, the sound of the waves, that mind-expanding stretch of the endless horizon. God, it’s still… It’s where I can breathe. So, oddly enough, I’m most grounded on a ship with no land in sight.”

  Ashley realized that she’d been holding her breath—his words had been so heartfelt and even poetic. “That’s amazing that you know that. You know, about yourself. That’s…” It wasn’t just poetic—it was profound. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt grounded. Not like that.”

  After her mother had died, they’d moved. Closer to the city so her father’s commute was shorter. To a house that had accommodations for a live-in nanny.

  It had been such a stupid, unnecessary accident. Her mother had been home alone. Ashley had been at some god-awful overnight ballet retreat, Clark had gone next door to the neighbors’ for a play-date, and her father had been out of town on business. Mom had been storing her gardening tools in the garage for the winter, and one of the hooks in her pegboard must’ve come out, because she’d gotten out the ladder, probably to try to fix it. She must’ve lost her balance because she fell and hit her head on the concrete floor. The neighbor had finally called the police at six o’clock, after Mom was two hours late to pick up Clark. Mom was still alive when they found her and rushed her to the hospital, but… it was too late, her head injury had become too severe in the time that she’d been lying there, and they couldn’t save her.

  Ashley hadn’t blamed her father for not wanting to live in that house where her mother had died, but for her, nowhere else had ever felt like home again. But it wasn’t the house, it was the fact that her mom was gone.

  “Home is where the heart is,” she murmured. Except, she’d lost her heart too many times.

  Jim was nodding. But then he cleared his throat. “Hey, can I, um, bring up an, uh, awkward-ish topic…?”

  She glanced at him, knowing immediately what was coming. “Of course.”

  “I’m sorry about before,” he said. “I shouldn’t’ve kissed you. As your instructor that’s… well, you’re here to learn from me. And yeah, you’re the team leader, but I hold the position of power. I’m sure I violated about a dozen of Dunk’s rules, but more importantly, I stepped all over my own code of ethics and, you know, honor. So that was not okay, and, uh, well, I really do apologize.”

  Ashley nodded silently because It’s okay, because I really didn’t mind was not the right response to their both having broken a SEAL World rule, with all of its potentially legally fraught implications. And yet, her time here was up in just a few short days. But before she could find the words to point that out, he continued.

  “And after your session’s over,” he said and she started nodding, because, yes, after this was over, they’d both be back in the greater San Diego area, “I would really, really like to—”

  And here it came. Meet you for coffee, take you out to dinner, kiss you again until our clothes fall off and I’m deep inside of you, making you come… “God, I would really like that, too,” she said in a rush, speaking over him.

  Except that wasn’t what he was saying. “—use you as a resource as I feel my way through maybe making the decision to go to law school. Oh, good. I’m glad you’re okay with that. I mean, someday, right? I’m still hoping for a few more years with the Teams, but my expiration date is definitely approaching. And I like you, I do, you’re incredible—you’re smart and funny and… But my track record is abysmal and… I want us to stay friends, Ashley, and I definitely don’t want to mess that up by starting something that can’t last.”

  Oh, God. Oh, crap… “Of course,” Ash heard herself say instead of No—are you crazy…? With heat like that, who cares if it lasts…? Except, she did care. And as long as she didn’t look at it directly, she could pretend that she cared—like Jim—about staying friends with him. Instead of caring about it lasting in a They lived happily ever after kind of way.

  But, now that they’d decided to be friends, she could ask him, as his alleged friend: “So you have a bad track record, too, huh?”

  The look he shot her was a mix of amusement and chagrin. “Terrible. I suck as a boyfriend—or so I’ve been told at rather high volume. It’s just not in my skill set to, well, suffer fools gladly.” He winced. “Which is not to say the women I’ve dated are fools. That’s not how I meant that. I just… I tend to choose badly, without looking beyond the, you know, shiny… outer… pretty… Which, when I say it out loud, means that I’m the fool, or… Maybe, you know, my picture should be in the official idiom’s guide, next to the entry for Love is blind. Or Lust is blind. Yeah, cause, you know…” He cleared his throat. “But then reality catches up to me and… Everyone I fall for turns out to be, well, a little crazy. Not, like, capable-of-stalking-me crazy, though. Which reminds me. I got a text from the Chief—Bob Taylor. He told me you OKed his request to put a coupla security cameras at your place, so I gave him a little guidance as to what and where—I hope you don’t mind.”

  “No,” she said. “That’s… great.”

  “One’s inside, in your living room, and one’s right outside the front door. Both small and hidden. It was cheap and easy—and connected to your wireless. You can watch ’em through an app on your phone. Here.” He handed her his cell. “I set up the account and tried it out while we were in the waiting room, while you went to find food. It comes with a free month of digital recording—that’s where it gets pricey. The monthly fee to keep the camera’s footage for longer than a few hours is pretty steep… But it’s free for this trial period and… Hopefully we’ll catch this guy before you fly back home.”

  Ashley opened the app on his phone. And there it was. Two little windows to her life back in California. The first was labeled “A’s front door,” and it let her see the outside covered corridor that led to her second floor apartment, warmly lit by the overhead lighting. The second was “A’s LR,” and yup, there was her tidy little living room. Bobby must’ve left the light on over by the door, because that room was lit, too—and it was already night on the west coast.

  “Thanks for doing this,” she murmured to Jim.

  “Not a problem,” he said. “In fact, it’s kinda my wheelhouse. Gotta let me bring something to this friendship, right?”

  “Yeah,” Ashley said and somehow managed to smile.

  Friendship. Right.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The party in the lounge—an impromptu celebration of Lucky’s good news that his wife Syd was indeed pregnant—had wound way down. Jim held the door for Ashley, then followed her in.

  The father-to-be was nowhere in sight. He had, apparently, already called it a night. In fact, the youngsters—Thomas and Rio—were alone at the bar. Except, no. Douches one and two—Bull and Todd—were also there, huddled at the table in the corner. Jesus, confronting them about firing on their own team leader during the paintball game was the dead last thing Jim wanted to do right now.

  Please God, let them have the good sense to leave…

  But although they sat up, they didn’t stand. So Jim sighed and kept them in his peripheral as he went behind the bar—first things first.

  “Glass o’ your favorite grape-flavored beer-substitute, TL?” he asked as he glanced at Ashley, not wan
ting to assume.

  “Oh, God, yes, please,” she said. “The pinot noir. Thank you. LT.”

  That pause before LT was tiny and possibly a figment of his imagination. TL and LT. Look at them both being the exact right amount of casual-friendly. Since that was what he’d said he wanted, why did it annoy him?

  As he poured her wine, Ashley turned to Thomas. For her, first things first meant asking, “Any word on your friend’s missing niece?”

  “Yeah,” the young SEAL said, clearly surprised that with all the drama around Kenneth, she’d remembered. “Thank you—yes. They found her—well, actually, she called them. To say she’s staying with a friend, and that she’s safe.”

  “Oh, I’m so glad,” Ashley said.

  Thomas smiled his relief as he nodded. “Yeah.”

  Not wanting to be left out, Rio chimed in. “Thanks for keeping us posted from the hospital. I’m glad Ken’s surgery went okay.”

  “He’s doing well. Turns out his parents were visiting his sister in New Orleans, and they caught a flight to Orlando and drove down. I was imagining them flying in from London, but they were closer than that. Anyway, happy ending, they’re with Kenneth now. Clark, too. He’s still at the hospital,” Ashley said as she reached to take her glass of wine from the bar, briefly meeting Jim’s eyes with a smile and a “Thanks. LT.”

  Nah, he was definitely not imagining that slight pause before LT—as if she’d remembered just a little too late that they were only friends, so she added it to make sure she didn’t come across as too friendly.

  And again, his annoyance spiked. Especially as she added, “Shall we sit?” as she motioned toward one of the little cafe tables close to the bar, so they could still talk to Thomas and Rio, but so that Jim could also be comfortable. Bar stools weren’t conducive to elevating feet—which is something he definitely needed to do to at least attempt to ease the ache in his knees. She was thinking of him, as always.

  “Do you need ice?” she asked, and yes, he did, but there it was again. “LT?”