by Dale Mayer
KANEN
SEALs of Honor, Book 20
Dale Mayer
Table of Contents
Title Page
About This Book
Complimentary Download
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
About Nelson
Author’s Note
Complimentary Download
About the Author
Copyright Page
About This Book
His best friend’s wife is in trouble…
A panicked phone call sends Kanen flying across the ocean to find that she’s been held captive in her apartment, tortured for something her dead husband supposedly hid.
Only she knows nothing about it and her husband is, well, dead…
Dead men don’t talk – or do they? As they unravel the mystery Kanen has to delve into his friend’s life to see what he’d done that put his wife in jeopardy. And find her captor, before he decides to kill her.
Laysa doesn’t know what this man wants, but after seeing Kanen again after so long she knows what she wants. But is it a betrayal of her husband? Then why was her husband hiding things?
And why did her captor want them? Even worse, if he got them in his possession, what was he planning to do with them?
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Chapter 1
Not long after the nightmare for Deli and Jackson had begun with a local training op and then had ended on base, several of the guys from their tight-knit units, plus their girlfriends, had gathered together to enjoy part of their days off. It wasn’t odd to see them on a Tuesday, relaxing in the early evening hours, catching some downtime when they could. Kanen Larson studied Deli and Jackson, cuddling on the couch, wondering how Mason’s magic could have spread for so long and so far. Kanen was happy for his friend. Hell, Kanen was surrounded by men so damn blissfully happy that it was almost enough to make a guy sick. Most of those lucky guys and gals had migrated outside to the barbecue pit, cleaning off the grill, readying it for the next time, helping themselves to more cold beers in the coolers.
But Kanen wasn’t jealous—that wasn’t part of who he was. Maybe envious. He wouldn’t mind finding his soul mate. But it wasn’t why he was here. It wasn’t why he was friends with all these men. They were good men—the kind to call on when in trouble. The best kind of men to spend time with, whether at work or when time to play. Kanen was blessed, and he knew it. These were great guys. And the women they’d met? … Wow, they were something else. Talk about raising the bar.
Mason had started everyone down a path where they were all helpless to do anything but follow. And the thing was, not one of them seemed to mind.
Jackson looked at Kanen and raised an eyebrow.
Kanen just shrugged. “You two look good together.”
Jackson smiled, wrapped his arm around Deli’s shoulder and hugged her close. “Feels good together too,” he admitted.
Kanen’s phone pinged. A reminder alarm that he didn’t need to read. He grabbed his go-bag and waved goodbye. “I’m off to Germany for training.”
Jackson shook his head. “I hear you’ll be doing night maneuvers in the Alps. And I’m missing out on that.”
“Next time,” Kanen said and left the latest lovebirds alone.
*
Even with a navy transport, the transatlantic flight took fourteen hours transit time plus added another nine hours, due to Germany’s time zone compared to San Diego’s. Meaning, Kanen spent most of Wednesday airborne.
No problem. He had gotten reacquainted with Taylor and had met Nelson for the first time. All the guys from various navy units gathered together here and had been encouraged to sleep on the transport, so they would be alert for nighttime maneuvers. Kanen had done that. Otherwise he had read the specs on the newest of the new equipment he would be trying out, from rappelling gear to night-vision scopes to bulletproof vests to small and large artillery to new freeze-dried food options, and whatever else they had assembled for SEAL approval or further input.
The transport arrived somewhere in the south of Germany at about 7:30 p.m., with the SEALs ordered to set up camp and to return to the transport on the double for their first night of four consecutive nights of training. Tonight Kanen and the others would be dropped in an undisclosed location well after dusk, picked up at midnight—and later each successive day—said pickup location given to them in code this time.
“Testing our code-breaking abilities early, I see,” Taylor noted.
Nelson laughed, slapped him on the back. “Good times.”
Kanen smiled, already enjoying how well he worked with these guys.
He was still smiling when he boarded the transport right at midnight, along with Taylor and Nelson. “Some of our toys tonight were unbelievable,” Kanen said. “And the nighttime view of the Bavarian Alps was unbelievable.”
“No kidding,” Taylor said. “And they have surprises for us on that final night.”
Nelson nodded. “Heard it was to test our learning curves.”
“Should be interesting,” Kanen said, still smiling.
*
Morning quickly followed, now a Thursday. Just to mix things up, they were woken up early, dropped into an undisclosed area and expected to run a ten-mile jaunt with their sixty-pound packs back to their camp, using their wits and geographical markers. Then, once more, the transport took them to one of Germany’s lakes, where they swam five miles in sixty-degree temperatures. Luckily they wore new thermal wetsuits that worked surprising well to keep their body temperatures near normal.
They heard murmurs that some extended sunset and sunrise excursions were planned to see if these new and improved wetsuits hid any thermal readings past those times of day. If so, more daytime maneuvers would be scheduled to further test that theory.
Then the guys were transported back to camp, where they were told to crash until needed again.
As soon as Kanen reached his sleeping bag, his eyes closed, and he fell deep into sleep.
He got two hours of sleep and was again on the transport. He and the others were dropped off at the foot of a mountain right at dusk on Thursday evening and were told to hike up to the first mountain camp they found. Without a map. This peak was deceptive. It may have been lower than the surrounding mountains, but its slope contained mostly rocks waiting to slide off the mountain and down, all aided by gravity and their own body weight.
Tonight the transport would pick them up at the base of the mountain at 1:00 a.m., providing they checked in at the first mountain camp beforehand. Groups of three were to hike together. Kanen was joined by Nelson and Taylor.
“More fun and games in the navy,” Nelson joked.
The guys all laughed and strapped on their packs and took off at a good clip, determined to make the best time of the whole exercise.
One hour into their mountain trek, Kanen’s cell phone rang.
He pulled it out, checked the time—8:04 p.m.—and saw it was his friend Laysa, calling from England, making it 7:05 p.m. her time. He waggled his cell phone to his buddies. “We’re still getting cell phone reception. Must not be high enough yet to need the sat phone.” He lifted the phone to his ear and cheerfully called out, “How is La
ysa doing? Trying to whip all those little students into shape, making them sit up and pay attention?” he teased.
A broken sob was his only answer.
He straightened. “Laysa, what’s wrong?”
Another sob, then an attempt to speak. But nothing came out.
“Take it easy. It’s all right. I’m here. What’s the matter?”
Her voice broke as she whispered, “Kanen.”
“Yes, it’s me,” he said. “What’s the matter? Talk to me. … What’s the problem?”
Taylor stared at Kanen, a frown line forming between his eyebrows.
Nelson perked up too.
Kanen shrugged, not sure what was going on yet. What he did know was Laysa didn’t get upset over the little things. He paced about in a semi-level spot about three feet by three feet. “Laysa, talk to me,” he urged. “What’s happening?”
She cried out again—her tone raspy, as if she’d been crying a lot. And it was a tone he recognized. Her husband had been one of his best friends since forever. Since Blake’s death almost a year ago, Kanen and Laysa had talked all the time, and her voice, at least in the beginning, had been tear soaked then too. But he’d never heard her like this.
“Tell me what’s going on,” he urged quietly. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”
Suddenly she shrieked in terror, then sobbed.
“Laysa,” he yelled. “What’s happening?”
A stranger spoke, his voice deadly. “Laysa can’t talk right now. If you want to see her alive again, I suggest you listen.”
Kanen’s heart froze. His chest seized. What the hell? He spun to look at Taylor, who even now stood with his hands planted on his hips over a wide stance, ready to jump in and help. And he didn’t yet have a clue what was going on either.
“Who is this?” Kanen barked. “What did you do to Laysa?”
“Did you hear me?” the stranger mocked. “Listen to me and do exactly what you’re told to do.”
“What do you want? If you hurt Laysa, I swear to God, I’ll hunt you down like the dog you are,” Kanen growled.
“Nice thought. But that won’t really work for me.”
“You have no reason to hurt her. Laysa wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“No, she probably wouldn’t,” the stranger said with a casual indifference. “But you, on the other hand, Kanen, would do a lot to save her.”
Kanen stared at the phone. He put it on Speaker and held it out between him, Nelson and Taylor, all three hovering over it. “How do you know who I am?”
“Oh, I know a lot about you. You think you’re better than everybody else—an asshole SEAL. But Laysa’s husband never made the grade, did he? He was just a lowly seaman.”
“He was a naval officer,” Kanen growled. “He was proud to be who he was.”
“But he wanted to be a SEAL with you,” the stranger said mockingly. “Of course you didn’t stay behind with him, and he couldn’t stand up with you, so you moved on ahead of him. Then he bailed as soon as his tour was up. He couldn’t cut the navy, could he?”
“What’s this all about?” Kanen asked, trying to calm down. That earlier shriek Laysa had let loose had chilled Kanen to the bone. It was obvious she was in bigger trouble than any inkling he currently had. “What’s this got to do with Laysa?”
“Blake has something of mine. And I want it back,” the stranger said thoughtfully. “I wonder if he planned to keep it—without my permission.”
“Impossible. Blake was a good man and a great friend,” Kanen said. “Besides, he died almost a year ago. Whatever he knew died with him.”
Taylor stared at Kanen with a question in his eyes, but Kanen had no clue who he was talking to. Regardless Kanen cared about Laysa. This asshole who held her was already in deep shit. He just didn’t know it yet.
“Blake has my insurance policy,” the stranger said on a harsh laugh. “So, if you want to see Laysa still breathing, you’ll come and find that item Blake was holding for me. Maybe he gave it to you?”
“What is it I’m looking for?” Kanen asked cautiously.
“Oh, no, no. It’s not that easy,” Dead Man Walking said. “Needless to say, you’d recognize it if you saw it. Laysa says she has no idea what I’m talking about. So I thought maybe Blake gave it to his best friend. But, of course, you won’t give me what I want without a little persuasion. I’m sure holding Laysa will encourage your cooperation.”
Taylor leaned in closer to the phone.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kanen said, his mind sorting through his options. “Blake didn’t give me anything to hold for him. I hadn’t even spoken to him in the weeks before his death, much less seen him.”
“Well, that’s too bad for you and Laysa then, isn’t it?” the stranger continued in a conversational tone. “Because, if you don’t bring me what I want—and soon—dear Laysa will pay the consequences. The countdown clock is ticking.”
The phone went dead.
Chapter 2
“What the hell is going on over there?” Kanen asked. “I need to bug out. If I can’t talk Mason into the transport dropping me off near London, then I’m on the next commercial flight.”
“I didn’t know Blake. What was he like?”
Kanen turned on Taylor. “He was a good guy,” he said defensively. “He’d never have done anything illegal—not knowingly.”
“I didn’t say he would have,” Taylor said calmly, holding out a hand, palm up. “But remember that we don’t know everyone the way we think we do, and we can’t be sure what was going on in Blake’s life at the time of his death.”
“I’d swear on my honor that Blake would never have done anything criminal.”
“It doesn’t have to be criminal,” Nelson said quietly, facing the two of them. “A friend may have asked him to hold something. Or gave him something innocently, without Blake realizing it was important. Like a code or a key to a safe-deposit box or something like that.”
“We need to wrap our heads around the fact that,” Kanen said, “Laysa apparently is being held against her will, beaten for information she doesn’t have, and her captor is damn short on patience.”
“You care about this woman?” Nelson asked.
Kanen ran his hand through his hair. “I’ve known her for decades. We were all friends growing up together. She ended up marrying Blake. They were happy,” he admitted. “I’ve become closer to her since Blake’s death but as a friend. She just needed to know somebody was there for her after Blake was gone.”
“That’s huge,” Nelson said. “Losing anyone is terrible—but a spouse? … That’s got to be a special kind of terrible. She must appreciate that you helped her through that.”
Kanen hoped he had been of some solace to her, but, right now, his mind was caught on something else. “Did that asshole go through her Contacts list and find me, or did he already know who I was?”
“Or she told him,” Nelson said. “I’ll play devil’s advocate here for a moment. Can you trust her? Do you believe she would be a part of this? That maybe she herself is looking for something Blake left behind?”
Kanen stared at Nelson blankly as Laysa’s cries still rang in his ears. No way was that terror faked. “No. You’d have to meet her to understand. She’s a lot of things, but a liar, thief or just plain petty? No, she’s not any of those.”
Nelson and Taylor looked at Kanen for a long moment, as if trying to read the truth in his face. Then they both gave nods.
Now that they believed him, Kanen let a whoosh from his chest. He sat down on the bare cold ground as he dialed Mason’s number. When he heard Mason on the line, Kanen explained the situation.
“Location?”
“Ipswich, England.”
“How long has she been there?”
He racked his brain, trying to think. “Four years maybe.”
“Who does she work for?”
“A preschool. Can’t remember the name,” he said.
; “When did Blake die?”
“September ninth of last year.” His tone turned dark. “He was in a car accident.”
“Was it caused by another person?”
Kanen froze. He slowly turned away when he answered, as if Taylor and Nelson couldn’t still hear his side of the conversation. “No, the police said it was an accident. He ran off a cliff. Possibly avoiding some debris in the road or maybe an animal.”
Silence followed.
Then Mason asked in a soft voice, “Do you still believe that?”
“Shit.” Kanen tried to think, but his mind wouldn’t obey his orders. “At the time it seemed strange because he was one of the better drivers I’ve ever known. He loved speed, and he used to race cars. That was one of his hobbies. He was hoping to have his own race car someday. He was a pro at the wheel.”
“He still could have been going too fast, taking a corner too quickly,” Mason said calmly. “That doesn’t mean anybody else was involved.”
“I know. Yet,” Kanen said, his free hand fisted, “I don’t know what to believe now.”
“You can deal with that later. Right now, I can contact some people in England. I’ll get back to you in five.” Mason hung up.
Kanen stared at the blank screen on his phone and then checked on flights to Ipswich or London or wherever would get him to Laysa the fastest. By the time he had the data he needed, Mason called.
“MI6 will be waiting for you, no matter where you land.”
“Great.” Kanen gave a harsh laugh.
“Yeah, they aren’t happy to hear one of ours is coming to town either,” Mason said. “You know we can’t do much from this end without their knowledge.”
“You could ask them to assist us instead of hindering us at every turn,” Kanen said. “Blake was a former US naval officer with an honorable discharge. I don’t care if somebody from NCIS joins me or one of our own unit, but I have to go.”
“How early can you get there?”
“If I go commercial, I won’t land until sometime after ten tomorrow morning.”
