Code Name_Redemption

by Natasza Waters

  Thane sat up and cuddled his daughter. “I’d say we’re going home, sweetheart, and we’ll wait for the invitation in the mail.”

  “What?” His wife’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “But they barely…”

  “Kayla,” he beckoned her to him. When she sat beside him, he threw an arm around her shoulder. “Sweetheart, you said you wanted Greg to have what you have.”

  She swallowed and nodded. Her brow wrinkled with love and concern.

  Thane slipped a glance across the room. “Looks like our little girl is going to have a Godfather and Godmother.”

  “Really?” Mattie sat straight up, her face lit like a neon bulb. “Seriously? Oh, my God, I’ve never been anyone’s Godmother.”

  A bittersweet smile crossed Kayla’s expression. “I think,”—she swallowed and tears formed as she looked at Greg, whose eyes had teared up as well—“everyone deserves a happy ending.”

  Greg and Kayla rose and hugged each other fiercely. Her arms squished the life out of him as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

  Thane could read the words on a man’s mouth even when there was no sound, but many times the eyes told the whole story. Greg had protected and cared for Kayla all his adult life. Their love had been seeded in a time when their young hearts were broken and confused by Daniel’s violence. They shared the struggle, and both survived the journey because they had each other. And although Mattie looked a little perplexed, Thane understood because he’d travelled part of the journey with them.

  Greg rubbed Kayla’s tears away. “There was a time when I believed we’d never grow old or be happy, but the war is behind us. Thank you for being my strength.”

  Tears poured down her cheeks. Kayla gripped his hand and nudged him toward Mattie. “He will be your whole life. Consume your whole heart and trust you with all of his. Love him fiercely, because he deserves you, and you deserve him.”

  Kayla backed away as Greg pulled Mattie into his arms. “It would be my honor to love you fiercely for the rest of my life.”

  Mattie’s eyes glistened. “Mine too,” she whispered.

  A smile grew on Thane’s face as the little nugget of doubt withered and its spark of life blinked once and then vanished. Kayla sat down, and he wrapped one arm around her, Sloane giggling between them.

  “Think it’s time to go home,” he said, watching Greg and Mattie go for the longest running kiss of the century.

  The glint in his wife’s eyes spread to her full lips. “A stop first in San Diego?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, we’ll check on our place. Make sure it’s ready for Mattie and Greg to stay in till they find one of their own.”

  Kayla nodded in agreement.

  Mattie and Greg turned surprised looks at them.

  “Seriously?” Greg asked.

  Thane dug in his jean pocket and pulled out his keys, taking one off the ring and placing it in Mattie’s palm. “Very.”

  He pulled Kayla to her feet and they gave their friends some privacy.

  * * * *

  The Monster Revealed

  Times Colonist Special Investigative Report

  By Mattie Bidault

  Christmas is just a few days away. The streets of Victoria are lined with lit candy canes and bobbles strung from every lamp post.

  The pall of dread has vanished from our vibrate city.

  We’ll never forget the women taken from us by the killer we called the Ripper, but he’s not a shadow anymore. No longer a spectre waiting in the shadows. Unsuspecting, we were all victims of his bloodlust. Those who knew him should not shoulder shame. He hid his dark desires too well.

  Surrounded by the Pacific Ocean, our citizens can thank the forces of Mother Nature who took his soul and pulled it into her darkest depths.

  Captain Brett Blackney remains a reminder to all of us. His mind was tormented by psychosis and grief. His supposed connection to Jack the Ripper—unsubstantiated, but he believed it. Maybe we should too. Unlike his ancestor, who tormented the streets of Whitechapel over a hundred years ago, Blackney will not become a legend.

  His body may never be recovered, and some of the good citizens of our city may fear that he lives, but he will never walk among us freely. He’ll never lure another woman by his captivating eyes or handsome but deadly smile.

  The Victoria City Police Department served the people. Tracked him down. Never rested. The Task Force was determined to find justice for his victims and their families.

  Justice was served by a watery grave.

  Mattie finished typing and Greg straightened from reading over her shoulder.

  “Captivating eyes, huh?” he teased.

  She pushed her black-rimmed glasses up her nose and chuckled. “Well, he did. He might have been a monster and tricked us all, but he was also very sick.”

  Greg sat in the chair next to her at his kitchen table. With a quick glance above his shoulder, she saw it was one in the morning. She’d talked to Sergeant Montgomery on the phone and told him what transpired when Brett had her locked in the storage room on the ship. In turn, he offered that the Port Angeles Sheriff’s office found the journals he’d spoken of in Brett’s home. She wondered whether the chronicles would disappear from existence or whether the mystery of who Jack the Ripper really was, would be put on display in a museum.

  The man of her dreams skimmed her hand with one finger. Tracing a path over her knuckles. “You’re a good writer. I think you should publish a novel under a pen name.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “I’d sell one book, and you’d be the sole purchaser.”

  “Non, mademoiselle, you’re wrong. You have a gift.”

  She leaned over, and he mirrored her movements so she could kiss him. “I love you for the thought.”

  His full lips caressed her mouth, and he murmured against her lips, “I just love you.”

  She smiled, then turned and emailed her article to the Colonist. Slowly, she lowered the lid of her laptop. It would be her last article and in some ways, it made her sad, but not unsure. She chose Greg over a future at the Toronto Star. The possibility of a journalism award dimmed when he held her in his arms. Maybe she was crazy. Lovesick. Yet, when he looked at her the way he did, a career in the spotlight weighed a distance second to love.

  “Ready for bed?” he asked, the glint in his green eyes making her cheeks blush.

  Greg led her upstairs and closed the bedroom door quietly so as not to wake their guests. Sitting on the mattress, her heart raced as he approached, drawing his shirt from his shoulders and flinging it onto a nearby cushioned chair. Standing over her, he slowly lowered his zipper. Anxious to touch him, she brushed her palms up his jean covered thighs to splay her fingers on either side of his open zipper.

  “I don’t mind if you’re my alpha in our bed, as long as I’m your partner out of it.”

  His jaw went taut and a sensual flame rose in his eyes. “When you lick your bottom lip like that, you make my desire explode. It’s too late to dominate you. You already have me under your control. ”

  Greg needed the words she hadn’t uttered yet. They stood waiting in her heart. “I’ve never told anyone I loved them before.”

  He waited. “And now?”

  “You want me to run away with you?”

  “Yes, Mattie. Far away.”

  “But my parents!”

  “Do they not spend six months of the year in Arizona? That’s just a few hours from San Diego.”

  He smiled down at her. “I want you now.” He paused. “What I mean to say, is that I want to marry you now.”

  Stunned, the words tumbled from her lip. “Now? Right now?”

  “It’s only a few days before Christmas. I can’t think of a better present than to call you Mrs. LaPierre on Christmas Eve.”

  Her love for this warrior shot to the moon, her heart gripping its fiery tail and hanging on tight. She grabbed the waistband of his jeans and yanked him on top of her.

  “Yes!” She smiled up
at him, her decision final.

  He broke into a hearty laugh. Winding his arms around her slender waist, he rolled until she hovered above him. The ends of her thick hair resting against his muscled pecs.

  “Mr. LaPierre, you make me crazy with one heated gaze, and you’re always looking at me that way.”

  “I will always remember the angry words you lobbed at me as if hurtling a grenade at my feet outside the Colonist. ‘“Only a stupid man would take the chance of setting you free.’ I’m not stupid and I want you beside me for the rest of my life.’”

  “Sometimes my Irish doesn’t think before it speaks.”

  “I’ll remember that,” he said, thumbing the sides of her arms.

  “When I saw you in the pub, I thought you were a movie star or a model, but I fell in love anyway, believing I’d never see you again. And even if I did, there was no way a man like you would look at me.” She grinned. “Well, maybe it was lust, but for sure when I looked in your eyes the first time, I was totally lost.”

  She slid down his taut body and fingered the band of his underwear, lowering it just enough to reveal the head of his shaft. Kissing the crown, her wet tongue followed the mushroom shaped contour.

  He closed his eyes. “Phew.” He threaded his fingers through her hair. As she mouthed his sensitive parts, she hummed. “Maybe next time we’ll go slowly,” he suggested.

  Easily, he rolled her onto her back and pressed her shoulders to the bed, undressing her inch by infuriating, delicious inch. He kissed her bare skin until she lay in front of him raw, wet and wanting. Greg wrapped his hands around her thighs and drew her core to brush against his shaft.

  “I love you so much,” she said with a woosh of words.

  “J’taime, mon trésor.”

  She savored each delicious stroke, making love to him not like the women of his past, but the woman who would be his future.

  Completely and forever his.

  Epilogue

  Thane chuckled as his wife emptied their luggage onto the bed. His son, Adam, didn’t waste any time pulling the clothes off the sheets and flinging them onto the floor. Kayla narrowed her eyes at their three-year-old, but he had no fear. Adam whooped like a native on the warpath from an old western movie and ran hollering down the hallway with his mother laughing her head off and chasing after him.

  This morning, he, Kayla and the kids gathered in a nondescript room at Victoria’s City Hall and watched as the Justice of the Peace announced to the small audience that Greg and Mattie were now husband and wife. A few people around them questioned the quick nuptials, but Thane had no doubts. Mattie and Greg would grow old together. He recognized the depth of love in Greg’s eyes as he made his vows to the beautiful young woman standing beside him. They mirrored his own when he’d married the mother of his children, and she became Mrs. Kayla Austen.

  When the LaPierre’s eventually reached San Diego, they planned to have a wedding celebration, and he was pretty sure there’d be standing room only. Thane had called Mace last night and gave him the summarized version of what happened on the cobblestoned streets of Victoria. He also mentioned that Greg accepted his offer to come work for Uncle Sam. Before long, Greg and Mattie would have a large adopted family of SEALs and friends. After Kayla spoke with Mace’s wife, Nina was anxious to meet the gal that motivated Greg to raise a white flag on being a skirt chasing ass and take a leap of faith. Nina would make sure a gaggle of women would welcome Mattie into the fold.

  By three o’clock Christmas Eve, Thane hustled his family onto a plane. Home in San Diego, they could spend Christmas with their friends before heading back to Hawaii. They’d share Christmas dinner with Marg and the girls, and on Boxing Day—what Kayla called the twenty-sixth of December, Alpha Squad and their families would converge on their place. It would be loud. Crazy. Messy…and one helluva good time.

  Sloane lay on his chest and had little interest in leaving her daddy’s arms, even though her brother giggled and ran circles on the hardwood floor.

  Thane’s heart swelled. This was his life. His family. Three years ago he had nothing but an empty house and combat. Now, his house was a home, filled with the sound of children and his wife’s gorgeous smile. The connection grounded him and gave him a reason to live.

  He loved his son. His first born. His pride. Adam was already headstrong and independent. Although the Navy demanded more of his time since he’d accepted the position in charge of the West Coast chain, nothing would stop Thane from one day teaching his boy how to ride a bike, swim like a fish and grow into a confident young man. He vowed to be there every step of the way and for every milestone his son achieved.

  His daughter made him feel like a million-dollar-man. Every second he spent with the little girl, who had stolen his heart the moment she was born, was better than a thousand successful missions. Sloane controlled every atom in his heart. Her perfect, chubby cheeks and silky brown curls consumed his soul.

  Propped against the pillows on the bed, he lifted her in the air above him. She wore the sweetest little smile, and he couldn’t wait to put his responsibilities aside and come home to her every day.

  When she’d started calling him ‘Dah’, he knew it was only for him. She didn’t say it to her favorite stuffed duck or to Adam. Only him. She knew he was her father, but she didn’t know that holding her delicate little body in his calloused and war-torn hands was a miracle.

  Sloane Juuyáay Austen was his undoing. Juuyáay meant “sun” in the Haida language and because of Kayla, he wanted to honor her Aboriginal roots, but it turned out that Sloane was the sun his life revolved around. She’d own his heart forever.

  Kayla gave him crap because he always had his daughter glued to his hip, but he just couldn’t put her down. When she blinked her huge brown eyes, placed her soft little cheek against his and her perfect little hand on his jaw, he was all hers. Sloane filled his life with more joy than he deserved. No man would ever be good enough for her when she grew into the beautiful young woman Thane saw blooming in her delicate, tiny features.

  **THE END**

  Code Name: War of Stones

  A Warrior’s Challenge Series

  Book Seven

  Chapter One

  July 10th, 2038

  Sloane rubbed the pinch out of her temple after disconnecting the caller. Tearing the sheet from her message pad, she swiveled in her chair, searching out her Administrations Lieutenant. “Ma’am, do you know a Lieutenant Damon Stone?”

  Sarah popped her head up from her computer like a gopher from a hole. “Sure. What’s up?”

  Sloane tugged the sweater from the back of the chair and covered her shoulders, suddenly cold. “I have to deliver this message to him.”

  “Email him,” the lieutenant said, and placed her attention back on the base’s weekly plans.

  Glancing at the message she’d written, Sloane shook her head. Considering her position, she’d dodged a bullet not having to deal with this before now. Absentmindedly, she tucked a wisp of hair from her bundled updo to adhere to Navy standards.

  Six months had passed since enlisting. Basic training ate up a few weeks, and then she was briefly posted at another base in northern California in the logistics department, a fancy name for paper pusher. She’d immediately put in for a transfer to Coronado. She hated to admit nepotism had played a role in getting her request approved to come back to San Diego so quickly. Her Godfather, Greg LaPierre, and probably her dad, had a heavy hand in making it happen, although both denied it.

  She liked the fast pace and stressors of keeping up with the heavy workload involved in a base the size of NAB Coronado. Varied responsibilities kept the humdrum away with the intake of new personnel, preparing and posting the Plan of the Week, preparing awards, writing up directives, and the enlisted evaluations, which were piling up on her desk. She tracked personnel leave, reviewed and disseminated correspondence and the file logs, but was also responsible for incoming message routing.

  Sloane wasn�
��t prepared to leave this message like a grenade in Lieutenant Stone’s mailbox. He needed to know.

  “Not this kind of message,” she said, catching her lieutenant’s attention, and attracting interest from a couple other women working in the department.

  Sarah stepped over to her desk and quickly scanned the note. “Oh dear,” she murmured. “He’s one of the BUD/s instructors. They could be anywhere right now, but check the Grinder first. The recruits are probably being thrashed on the pavement.”

  Sloane picked up her cap, then straightened her navy blue uniform skirt. “I’m going to deliver this in person.”

  Sarah crossed her arms over a plentiful chest. “If I were you, I’d drop it off at his office. I wouldn’t interrupt them,” she warned.

  Sloane nodded, but wasn’t going to let the poor man open the message without some kind of warning. This was a hand job. Not a pleasant one, either.

  “What does he look like?”

  Sarah arched a brow. “Bloody gorgeous, actually. He’s a big guy and easy to spot. Light brown to blond hair, shoulders about a mile wide and eyes the color of tropical water. Single, I think,” she said, pinching down on a smile.

  Shoulders a mile wide described half the men on the Coronado Amphibious Base, the west coast headquarters for the Naval Warfare Special Command and the Navy SEALs. The single part didn’t interest her. Her policy on dating SEALs was strict and unwavering—never again. Besides, she had enough SEALs in her life.

  Sloane Austen left the administrations building and headed for the Grinder, likely the most hated piece of pavement in California, if not the planet. At least by any man accepted into the Basic Underwater Demolitions program known as BUD/s. The instructors propelled the recruits through grueling exercises during the hottest part of the day. It was just one of the challenges you faced if you wanted to become a Special Warfare Operator. Most didn’t make it, but that was the point—only the best did. Every man was thrust to his limits. Those who didn’t ring the infamous bell signaling his own retraction from the program, went on to receive about a million dollars-worth of training and became a warrior for Uncle Sam.