Bachelor SEAL (Sleeper SEALs Book 5)

by Sharon Hamilton

  J.J. smiled. He made a rounded motion to his belly. “Carmen is huge, too. This will be number four.”

  “Nice. You don’t have to worry about being home for the birth. I missed both of mine,” offered Curtis.

  J.J. threw a serious glance at Morgan.

  “I didn’t have that problem,” Morgan quipped back and then grinned. After another awkward silence, he asked his friend again. “So what brings you over here so early on a Saturday morning?”

  “Oh, I was just in the neighborhood. Wanted to check up on my old friend.”

  “You the asshole who called me last night?”

  J.J. rolled his right shoulder. “None other.” His eyes were steady, and Morgan instantly understood J.J. needed to have a private conversation with him.

  “Hey, fellas. I’m gonna head off,” Curtis said as he stood, bringing them all to their feet. “Nice to meet you, man.”

  “You keep getting the bad guys for us, son.”

  Morgan knew it was a sincere wish.

  “Every one I can nail. Due to my present circumstance, I like it better over there than here, except for the kids, of course. But I don’t mind. Made for this shit.”

  “Shit yea,” answered Morgan. “You take care.” The two of them slapped backs, and Curtis was gone. Morgan turned around and saw J.J. take a deep breath. “Okay, what the fuck’s up?”

  “Sit down,” came the answer. There was no eye contact.

  “This something I need a little nip over?” Morgan could see, whatever it was, J.J. was having difficulty getting it out on the table.

  “You don’t need that. Maybe later after we talk.”

  Morgan sat, leaning back into the wooden chair. He just wanted to get it over with and suspected J.J. did as well.

  “I was called back to Washington, D.C. You remember Navy Commander Greg Lambert?”

  “Yessir. Hard to forget him or that fuckin’ little bitch dog that bit my ass one night at a poker game. But I thought he retired.”

  “He did. Well, he’s working in D.C. right now on a couple special projects with the Headshed, including those bugs at the CIA. A bunch of those guys are doing stuff that wasn’t around when we were in. I haven’t spoken to him since before we got out.” J.J. looked down at his hands, folded on the wooden table. He brushed aside the coffee mug, leaned forward, and searched Morgan’s face. “I’m not going to sugar coat it. You’re not going to like it. Any of it.”

  “What’s wrong? Someone bought the farm?”

  “Not exactly.” He paused again and bit his lip. Morgan could see he’d been tapping his left foot under the table. “They’ve got a unit created to do very covert, special projects. It’s a counter-terror unit under the jurisdiction of the CIA, created to handle solo dark ops missions. Commander Lambert is heading up this new division.”

  “Projects? Projects for who?”

  “These are dark ops missions, and they’re only using former Navy SEALs, about a dozen of us. Anyway, I got recruited to the task force. I just got my first mission.”

  “So you’re back on the Teams?”

  “Not exactly. Like I said, this is covert, strictly a need-to-know operation. I get caught, they don’t know anything about it type of thing. And it’s mostly based in the Homeland. It was the brainchild of mini-POTUS himself.”

  “The Vice President? You’re talkin’ the Homeland? Fully authorized?” Morgan had heard whispers, but he thought they were just ghosts of ideas that were always surrounding them all or wishful thinking, since he wasn’t active any longer.

  “Like I said, not exactly fully authorized. Covert.”

  “Why would you do something like that with your wife and all those kids? You’re teaching, right?”

  “High School Administration. I’m already Assistant Principal.”

  “Geez. So why tell me? And why did you take on something like that?”

  “Because of who it involves. I’d be protecting one of our own. And, well, I miss the action. Don’t you?”

  Morgan ignored his question. “Our own? Who are we talking about, J.J? I’m wide awake now.”

  “This mission concerns your wife—er—your ex, Halley.”

  Morgan got to his feet and grabbed J.J. by the collar, pulling his torso over the table, spilling a coffee mug. “You leave your hands off Halley, you dumb fuck.”

  Jay extricated himself from Morgan’s grip, straightened his shirt. “Sit down,” he commanded. “There’s more. And if you don’t get a hold on yourself, I’m going to leave, and I’ll come back later when you’re not so volatile.”

  Morgan grabbed a towel, wiped up the coffee spill, and dumped his frame back into the chair.

  “They asked me to do this job, and I said no. Not until I talked to you. We have a code, all of us. I’d expect the same if the situation was reversed.”

  Morgan’s gut burned. He needed some food in his belly. A wave of nausea washed over him and then left him cold and clammy. “So when the fuck are you going to tell me?”

  “Commander Lambert said they had intel that some bad actors are planning something on Halley.”

  “You mean like kidnapping?”

  “Or worse. A big event. Something showy.” J.J. leaned in again and whispered, “Another 9-11 event, Morgan.”

  He’d spent so much time burying all his feelings for Halley he’d been left numb. Trying to unpeel all the icepacks from his head and chest, and especially surrounding his heart, he found he just didn’t have any reaction at all, except some ancient primordial territorial thing flopping around his belly. The dang thing was black, laughing like some wild-assed monkey biting its own tail. It was crazy, and it made no sense. He couldn’t focus on what it was exactly he did feel. He gave himself a mental slap and then returned J.J.’s worried stare.

  “When?”

  “That’s just it; we don’t know. But it could be any day now.”

  “How long have you known about this?”

  “I just flew home last night. I called you when I landed. Morgan, I couldn’t do this mission without informing you. Lambert forbid me to contact you, but I told him I’d turn it down unless I talked to you first.”

  “Why Halley?”

  “Because she’s a high profile target, Morgan. Former model, actress, and wife of a Navy SEAL flying all over the world, giving these seminars, doing workshops, and speaking to women. You know there are people who don’t like that sort of thing, Morgan. We met some of them overseas, and we saw firsthand what they did to their children and wives.”

  The pictures were still vivid in Morgan’s mind, though it had been ten years.

  “We can’t do anything about the small cell attacks like the one in Portland. At least, not today we can’t. But the CIA doesn’t want another big one.”

  Morgan’s head spun.

  “I won’t take the job unless you give me your blessing,” J.J. added.

  “Well, I won’t.”

  “I was afraid of that.” J.J. leaned his forehead into the palm of his hand then let his fingers slip into and rub his curly scalp. He positioned his hand beneath his chin. “I know you better than to think you’d want any harm to come to her, even though you had a rough separation—”

  “That’s an understatement. More like an earthquake. We never should have married. We are two people who absolutely would have killed each other if we’d stayed together. Shoot, the more efficient thing would be to let them get us back together. I’m a one man wrecking crew, trust me.”

  “I get it.”

  “No. You don’t. Because I have a problem.”

  “What’s that, Morgan?”

  “Even though she hates me—I mean, truly hates me—I can’t allow anyone else to make her miserable or to end her life.”

  “Not surprised to hear that.”

  “So the only way I’d give permission is if I go instead.”

  “No can do, Morgan. That’s explicit—all the way from the Vice President, perhaps even the President himself.�
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  “Then we have to go together.”

  “That’s not what I came here for.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Those are my terms.”

  J.J. sighed. “I will ask. But I’m sure of the answer. If you can’t let me take this job, I’m going to quit the task force. So I’ll ask. No promises, okay?”

  “No, you’ll tell them. You’ll tell them I insist.”

  “Well, there’s one other problem. She has a fairly serious boyfriend.”

  Morgan thought about that, envisioning him strangling the boyfriend in front of her. He’d have to temper his anger and his thoughts if he had any chance of being effective.

  “Can I ask you, Morgan, why you care? Other than for old time’s sake? You must have calculated what it would be like to see her again, to perhaps be her friend?”

  “I can’t be her friend or boyfriend, J.J. And certainly not her husband. I’m done with that. That’s all gone and turned to ashes years ago. But I’m not done being her protector. I was made for that. And I know her so well no one would have a chance to get to her if I’m around.”

  “It will be complicated with the boyfriend.”

  “No worries there. So she’s married? Never would have figured that one.” Morgan wished he’d not brought it up. He didn’t really want to know. Or so he told himself.

  “No, not married. Not even engaged.”

  It wasn’t right that Morgan felt an inkling of something like manly ego. He’d been somewhere with Halley the boyfriend hadn’t been.

  He’d walked the plank.

  He deserved all the hell this mission was going to cost him, if they let him do it. He’d bought and paid for it. His heart, that old withered thing, had never really recovered, either.

  Chapter 4

  Halley Hansen met her driver at SFO, and on the hour-long trip to Los Altos Hills, she checked her phone for voice messages. She expected at least one. But it wasn’t there when she landed, wasn’t there when she gathered her bags at the carousel, either. Now, seated in the rear of the black limo, she still found no communication from Gibril.

  One of her rules was to never leave a message for a man, making him feel confined, unless the message had been prearranged. She decided to dial his number, planning to hang up if she got his voicemail.

  Their relationship had deepened in the past few months, but they were still learning each other’s rules and boundaries. The little game of cat and mouse, revealing more and more personal details about each other as they explored their bodies, was delicate, slow-moving, and very passionate. But she did feel like she was holding her breath a lot.

  After her fiasco of a marriage to Morgan, she’d not let anyone come close. Now that it was happening again, she was nervous, apprehensive, but very excited. Her handsome, billionaire investor boyfriend made the stars sparkle just a little bit brighter these days and put a bounce in her step.

  Expecting to get his message line, she was shocked when Gibril Messi picked up on the second ring. His polished English accent from years at boarding school in London, with a touch of his Middle Eastern dialect, made her melt on the inside.

  “Awww, how’s my beautiful princess today? You must be back from Los Angeles?”

  “Just on my way home now.”

  “I missed you. Found myself thinking about you all day.”

  “Really? And what were you thinking?”

  “I was dreaming about going for a walk in the woods, perhaps with a bottle of wine and a basket full of gourmet goodies.”

  “Hmm. Sounds nice.”

  “In my daydream, I watched you pluck the grapes from my fingers.”

  Halley’s spine tingled as she heard his deep baritone voice, letting it vibrate everything delicate inside her. She suddenly felt flushed and awakened. But she held her excitement at bay, which only heightened the experience.

  “Gibril, how about we enact that little drama tomorrow afternoon? Tonight, I just want to unwind, take a bath, and go to bed early.” It was important she not appear too eager for his company, but Gibril was slowly becoming an addiction she didn’t mind having.

  “Excellent idea. I have a fundraiser to attend this evening, so tomorrow will be perfect!”

  A tiny bit of angst crept into her gut. He’d never mentioned this before, and she had not been previously invited.

  Gibril quickly filled the silence. “How was it? Exhausting??” His buttery words made her hang on every syllable. He was good at changing the subject at just the right time.

  “It went very well, thank you. I’m nearly filled up for the October event, and I have three weeks still to go.”

  “Brava, my dear. You are irresistible!”

  “Well, I don’t know about that, but I’m glad the Summit will be a success and most likely sold out, too.” Halley’s curiosity returned, and she bent one of her own rules. “Gibril, what’s the fundraiser for?”

  “Oh, it’s a benevolent society my family has contributed to for years. Way too boring for you, I’m afraid. Mostly old men giving lots of speeches. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.”

  Satisfied, she began the sign-off. “Call me back in the morning to confirm, okay?”

  “Absolutely. Have a wonderful evening and a glass of wine for me, and maybe burn an extra candle?”

  She found his exotic language and culture, stories of his family back in Sudan, and his gentle, attentive ways a pure pleasure to be around. His hands were smooth, nails trimmed, and manicured. He wore lemon oil cologne and had a tall, lean body, which was always impeccably dressed.

  She wasn’t going to overthink anything.

  After the disaster of her first marriage, this budding romance was a welcome change in her life, and about time, too. Morgan had constantly pushed her into overload in so many ways with his hulking body, his big callused hands, a sexual appetite that matched hers, and his secrets and loyalty to his brothers. She had to run in her high heels just to keep up with him on a daily basis. Halley had known she would forever be sharing Morgan with the rest of his SEAL Team. Being married to him had been like training for a marathon that would never end.

  The driver pulled into her gated entrance. Halley used her clicker to open the first gate just off the road, which she shared with one other neighbor. At a fork, where the shared road ended, the driver turned right, stopping for her to open the second gate with a scan of her iPhone. After the short drive to the entrance, he parked and quickly moved to the rear to open the door for her. She stepped out into the warm afternoon glow, surveying her view from the walkway to her front door. On display was the entire San Francisco Bay: from San Jose to San Francisco. The sky was blue, dotted with tufts of billowy clouds. A promise of rain was in the air, but otherwise, the view was unblemished by haze.

  Once inside her tiled foyer, she thanked her driver and handed him a hundred dollar bill, which was her custom. He tipped his hat and was on his way. Setting the bags inside her small elevator, she sent them to the landing upstairs outside the master bedroom, just before she went into the kitchen to get a glass of wine and a light supper.

  She checked the Los Angeles station and watched the clipped interview she had with the reporter yesterday afternoon. Her cell phone signaled a text from Crystal Cortez.

  ‘You made it home okay?’

  ‘Yes, sorry I didn’t text sooner. Just getting ready to fix something and then take that nice bath I’ve been dreaming about. You two made it to Las Vegas?’ Halley texted her in return.

  ‘Yes, my mother was so surprised to see us both. We got tickets to see “O” tonight.’

  ‘Well, have a well-deserved weekend off. Give Mama Cortez a hug from me. Thank you for everything. Give Orestes a hug as well. We did great. Send me the numbers on Monday when you get them.’

  ‘Will do. I’m thinking you’re sold out.’

  ‘Love that thought. Talk Monday.’ Halley ended it with a heart, and it was returned with the same.

  She pulled out her laptop and made a note to
ask Crystal to get a link to the interview to use in their promotions, and then shut her screen down. She put together a small tossed salad, heated up some leftover lasagna, and poured a glass of red wine while the news program continued.

  There had been another terrorist attack in Oregon where a small school bus had been stolen and had plowed into a host of afternoon tourists down by the waterfront. Seven dead, many more wounded. Her heart ached for the innocent loss of life, including the life of an early responder who had been shot before the terrorist was felled. The details sent a cold shiver of fear down her spine as she surveyed the horizon, noticing the buildings in the East Bay reflecting an amber glow as the sun dropped.

  She lived here all alone and loved this house. The perch with the fantastic view of the Bay was good for her serenity. Above all the bump and grind of the cities below, all the freeway traffic in the Hills, she felt comforted by the space, as if the crime and drama of the world was far away from her. Halley considered what might happen if her relationship with Gibril deepened further. Would she someday share this space with a man?

  For the right man, yes!

  There had been those of her friends who didn’t understand her friendship with Gibril, and though they never said anything to her, she knew they had opinions. She’d seen the looks the two of them got when they strolled down the Boardwalk in Santa Cruz and browsed for antiques in Saratoga. But Northern California was filled with Middle Eastern citizens, as well as people from all over the world; Silicon Valley was a magnet for the bright, the successful from everywhere. But still, there were those looks. She felt them on her back as they passed by others.

  Gibril had often mentioned how unfortunate the radicals had found such a lucrative method of drawing attention to their causes. He’d told he it had interfered with his work on occasion. There were some clients the company didn’t have him work with because of his background. The two of them had discussed how this was so unfair. Halley was convinced he was the brightest partner in the treasure trove of startup geniuses at Focus Forum, the largest venture capital firm in the Valley.

  Wow them with your unlimited ability to be brilliant, and they will receive you like a conquering queen. She spoke those words many times on stage to underprivileged women all over the world. You are not bound by the limits of others’ perceptions of you as a woman, as a leader, as a business person. Let those thoughts be their limiting beliefs, not yours.