Signed SEAL’d and Delivered
Part 3 of the SEAL Series
Jack Silkstone
BOOKS BY JACK SILKSTONE
PRIMAL Inception
PRIMAL Mirza
PRIMAL Origin
PRIMAL Unleashed
PRIMAL Vengeance
PRIMAL Fury
PRIMAL Reckoning
PRIMAL Nemesis
PRIMAL Redemption
PRIMAL Compendium
PRIMAL Renegade
SEAL of Approval
SEAL the Deal
Signed SEAL’d and Delivered
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Text copyright © 2018 Jack Silkstone
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Jack Silkstone
This book is dedicated to the Military Working Dogs who have served, loyal and steadfast, alongside their handlers in the world’s deadliest conflict zones.
A percentage of the sale of this book will be donated to a foundation that trains dogs to help servicemen and women who suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder.
Chapter One
Mike Saunders lay on a deck chair under a tree in the front yard of his house. A warm breeze rustled the leaves above as he stretched his muscled arms high and folded them behind his head. The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile and the edges of his grey eyes crinkled as he watched his son playing.
The two-year-old charged around the lawn with Axe, Mike's recently retired military working dog. The Belgian Malinois adored Junior and was closely supervising the toddler's activities.
Mike watched as Junior made a break toward his wife's rose bushes. Axe leaped into action, gently blocking his progress.
Junior clutched the dog's long fur, and the hound guided him back to the middle of the lawn. When the toddler was safe Axe sat on his haunches and looked toward Mike. One of his ears flopped over and his tongue lolled from the side of his mouth.
“Who needs a nanny when you've got Axe?” said a soft voice from behind.
He turned and watched his wife cross the lawn from the porch of their townhouse. Alison Saunders wore a floral print dress that hugged her curves, putting an even broader smile on his face.
His wife, a veterinarian, had bright green eyes, a button nose and plump lips that were perpetually turned up in a smile.
“What would we do without him?”
Ali reached the deck chair, hitched her dress and straddled him, leaning forward to kiss him. “Not as much of this.”
Mike slipped his hands around her waist as she nibbled his lip. He felt the blood rush into his shorts as she ground down on him. “Spring is in the air?” he murmured.
Ali turned her attention to his ear, soft lips brushing the lobe. “It's a pity we've got an audience,” she whispered.
Mike turned and looked directly into two pairs of bright inquisitive eyes. Both his son and dog were watching intently. “Isn't it time for Junior’s nap?”
Ali nibbled his ear. “A huh, and if you put him to bed, we can have a nap of our own.”
Mike slid his hands under her dress and along her thighs. “I'm heading out on an exercise. I'm not interested in napping.”
She sat upright, shifting weight on to his crotch as she traced her fingers down his granite hard abs. “I suggest reading him Bish the Adventure Jug; it's his current favorite.”
He groaned as she slid off him and walked toward the house. The dress did nothing to hide the lines of her butt as she climbed the porch. “Anytime now,” she said with a chuckle as she disappeared inside.
Mike grinned to himself as he rose from the chair and crossed the lawn. He had to be one of the luckiest men alive, with a stunning wife, vibrant young son, great teammates and a killer job. He ruffled his dog's ears, a loyal best friend. Life was good.
Scooping his son from the grass he carried him toward the front door. As he reached for the handle, he sensed something was off and turned back to the yard.
Axe stood, staring past the rose bushes and through their white picket fence. Hackles raised and ears angled forward, it was body language that Mike knew from their time in combat.
“What's up boy?” Mike scanned the street as he bounced his son on his hip.
There were a half-dozen cars parked opposite, and he scanned each one. He spotted a white sedan in the shade of a leafy tree, and his eyes narrowed. Three years earlier, a similar car had played a role in the abduction and attempted murder of Ali. Shaking his head, he drove the idea from his mind; Barbosa was rotting in a maximum-security prison with eight life sentences.
Axe let out a half-hearted bark before joining him on the porch. The dog looked at him with intelligent brown eyes.
“What’s up bud, squirrel?”
Axe cocked his head, and his right ear flopped forward. Mike reached down and ruffled his ears. Then he left the porch and walked through to Junior’s bedroom. Axe’s claws rattled on the floorboards as he followed. The toddler struggled to keep his eyes open as Mike tucked him into bed.
“Dadda, Axe,” he managed between yawns.
“He’s right here, bud.” Mike kissed Junior on his forehead as the dog jumped onto the bed and curled up alongside his son.
He stroked Axe and kissed Junior again. Pausing a moment at the door, he smiled as his son reached out and placed one hand on the dog's paw. From the moment that Ali had introduced their son to his dog, the two had become inseparable. The former military working dog had taken it upon himself to watch over Junior and keep him safe.
“They’re so cute,” whispered his wife as she slipped an arm around his waist.
“Yeah.” He turned and dipped his head to kiss her.
What started as a tender embrace rapidly escalated to heated passion as he maneuvered her into the hall. Items of clothing dropped to the floor as they continued along the passage into their bedroom. Mike removed her bra with a deft flick of his wrist and lifted her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around him as they kissed. Then he lowered her gently onto the bed.
“Can’t TJ cancel the exercise so you can stay at home?” Ali purred.
Mike chuckled. “That ain’t gonna happen. The old man spends all his time at the office.”
“Trouble at home?”
He kissed her neck, gently brushing his lips against her skin. She moaned as he caressed her breasts. Slipping his fingers into the sides of her French cut briefs he slid them along her thighs as he continued kissing his way down her body.
Outside, less than fifty yards away in a white car, a man sat hunched over a tablet. On the seat next to him was a compact camera with a long lens.
On screen, he sorted through photos of Mike and his family as they relaxed in their yard. Selecting four images, he transferred them into an encrypted email account and hit send. Then he fished a phone from the pocket of his jacket. Holding the device to his mouth he recorded a message.
“I’ve sent you the pictures. Let me know what the next move is,” he said in Spanish.
A moment later the message was sent and he awaited a reply. It came less than thirty seconds later in the form of text.
Maintain observation.
***
Ali took a sip from her coffee before slotting it into the cup holder on the handle of Junior’s stroller. Her son
was attached to his father's leg as Mike tossed a gear bag into the back of his pickup.
“Dadda, no go,” he wailed.
Mike scooped him into his arms. “Hey bud, dad’s got to go to work. I need you to stay here and look after mom and Axe.”
“Nooo,” he said shaking his head.
Ali thought her heart would break as her son buried his head into her husband's shoulder and clung to him like a koala. Feeling pressure against her leg she glanced down and saw that Axe was sitting alongside her. The dog had an uncanny knack for sensing emotions and offering support. She reached down and stroked his head.
“Hey bud, I gotta go look after my team. I’ll only be gone a few days. Axe and mom need you here.”
Axe barked, gaining Junior’s attention, then jumped up on Mike so he could lick the boy’s leg. The toddler's mood changed instantly. He giggled and reached for the dog's ears. “Dadda, down.”
Mike lowered him, and he immediately wrapped his arms around Axe’s neck.
“He’s distracted, you need to go now,” said Ali.
Mike nodded, stepped across and embraced her, kissing her softly. “I’ll be back in a few days.” Then he checked to make sure Axe and Junior were well clear of the pickup before jumping inside and pulling out of the drive. He gave Ali a wave as he drove away.
Once the truck had disappeared, she gathered her giggling son from the ground and placed him in the stroller. Axe stayed closed, continuing his role as the distractor.
“OK, boys. Let’s get rolling.”
Ali pushed the stroller across the lawn and out the gate. Axe fell in by her side. He was more than familiar with the routine of delivering Junior to daycare. The dog waited patiently as she secured the gate and handed her son a juice box. Then, with coffee in hand, they started the half-mile stroll.
For the last two months Ali had been working three half-days a week with Junior going to daycare and Axe joining her at the clinic. It was good for both of them. The toddler got to socialize, and she was able to return to the job she loved.
The walk was made even more enjoyable by the pleasure that Axe got from it. The dog's nose worked overtime as they passed houses and then shops. Ali had worried that he would miss working with Mike and the team. However, he seemed more than content in his role as Junior's guardian. He trotted alongside the stroller, sticking his head in every now and then to check on his charge.
Ali had finished her coffee when they arrived at the daycare center. She unstrapped Junior, and he took off at lightning speed, heading straight for the jungle gym. She smiled. He was so much like his father, always charging off on another adventure.
She checked in with the staff before starting home with Axe and the stroller. The dog wore a worried expression, glancing back over his shoulder every few feet.
“It’s OK, Axe. He’s going to be fine.”
As they moved across the parking lot Axe’s attention returned to his surroundings, and Ali’s thoughts turned to her day at the clinic. Today, she was expecting a broad range of patients: two Labradors, a Cocker Spaniel and a Chihuahua.
Axe interrupted her thoughts when he stopped dead and let out a low growl. Ali turned in the direction he was looking and wound his lead in a little tighter. “What is it, boy?”
There were a handful of cars in the parking lot and no pedestrians. Axe seemed to be fixated on a white sedan that had pulled in only moments earlier. The vehicle drove slowly, seemingly searching for a park. It passed two empty spots then exited onto the main road. Once it was gone Axe relaxed and sat on his haunches.
Ali knelt beside him and stroked his neck. “You didn’t like that car, did you, buddy?”
He licked her cheek, and Ali chuckled. “OK, let's get to work.” The rest of the walk home was uneventful, and soon they were on their way to her practice. She considered ringing Mike and telling him about the incident in the parking lot. But, she quickly pushed the idea from her mind. Axe had been through a lot in his life; he was allowed to have a little outburst every now and then.
***
Meanwhile, a little over twelve miles away at Halsey Field, Coronado Naval Base, Mike and his teammates, Rick and Ernie, were dressed in combat fatigues as they checked their equipment. Behind them, sailors were preparing an eleven-meter Rigid Hull Inflatable Boat (RHIB) for parachute insertion.
The SEALs had laid their gear out on the floor of a hangar so they could double-check their mission essential kit. Parachutes, wetsuits, combat harnesses, fins, radios, weapons, NVGs, batteries and helmets were inspected and accounted for.
Rick, a muscle-bound African American, checked his watch as he sipped from a can of energy drink. “Where’s TJ? Not like pops to be late.”
Chisel-jawed with a shaved head, Rick was the team's Corpsman. The former ladies’ man had found love when Mike’s bachelor party had gone badly wrong in the wilds of an Oregon forest.
“His wife was dropping him off,” added Ernesto, or Ernie as his friends called him. The compact Latino was the team's comms guy and a family man with two boys.
“Deborah is going to drop him off at work?” asked Mike, as he adjusted the straps on his gear bag.
“I know, essé. Been on team with the guy for six years and I think I’ve met his wife twice.”
“Doing better than me, I’ve never met her,” added Rick as he finished the energy drink and crushed it.
“I met her once,” said Mike.
“In my mind I picture her being statuesque,” said Rick.
Mike shook his head. “Statuesque? Since when do you use words like statuesque to describe a woman?”
Rick tossed the can in the trash. “What? I just picture the Chief with someone empowered and yet elegant.”
Mike and Ernie started at him in disbelief.
“There’s something wrong with you.” Mike finished with his gear. “I’m going to check the team rooms. The Chief might have gotten caught up.”
Ernie gestured to the RHIB, where the riggers were making the final adjustments to the boat. “As soon as these guys are done we’re supposed to be airborne.”
Mike nodded and strode out of the hangar toward the team rooms. As he rounded the corner he spotted TJ unloading bags from a Mercedes sedan in the parking lot. A tall woman in an elegant suit stood at the driver's door of the car, Deborah.
Mike paused as TJ slung his bag over his shoulder and slammed the trunk. He watched as the veteran SEAL walked to his wife and stopped two feet from her. Mike couldn’t hear what was being said, but from Deborah’s body language it wasn’t a fond farewell. She had her arms folded in front of her chest and was tapping her foot impatiently.
Feeling like he was intruding, Mike turned and returned to the hangar.
“You find him?” asked Ernie.
“Yeah, he’s on his way.”
“How’s Junior and Ali doing?” asked Rick as he joined them.
“Good, bud. Junior’s in daycare now and Ali’s back at work.”
“How’s Axe handling that?”
“He’s been heading to the surgery with Ali.”
“I bet he’s missing team life,” added Ernie.
TJ appeared at the hangar entrance with his gear bag slung over his shoulder. With a square jaw and craggy features the Chief looked every bit the veteran operator that he was. A team guy through and through he’d been kicking doors and driving boats for over twenty years.
“How’s it hanging, Chief?” Rick asked as TJ dumped his gear on the floor.
The squad leader fixed him with an icy stare. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Rick swallowed. “Nothing, just wanted to know how you’re doing.”
“I’m fine. Got all your gear?”
“Team’s fully accounted for,” replied Ernie. “Your stuff is over next to mine.”
“And the boat?”
“Riggers are finishing up now,” added Mike.
“Good, soon as they’re done load up and we’ll get going.” TJ strode a
cross to his own equipment, leaving the boys to check on the boat.
“What the hell’s wrong with him?” asked Rick in a low voice.
“He probably missed his coffee, you know how he gets,” answered Ernie as he checked the shackles that attached the bundle of parachutes to the rubber boat.
“Yeah, grumpy as hell.”
“Hey, how’s Jenny going at her new job?” Mike said steering the conversation away from TJ.
Rick grinned. “She loves it. Very different to up north, but still plenty of critters to look after.” His girlfriend was a park ranger.
“And the apartment, how you going with a woman in the house?”
He shrugged. “All good.”
“All good?”
“OK, OK, I like it. She’s great company and damn can she cook.”
Mike turned to Ernie and smirked, the Latino winked and started whistling a tune. It took him a moment to realize it was Beyonce’s Single Ladies.
“Quit grab-assing and get that damn boat loaded!” bellowed TJ from the other side of the hangar.
“Jeez, he is shitty,” added Rick as he waved a cargo loader forward.
“Yeah,” murmured Mike as he watched his squad leader stuff gear into a dive bag.
“Well, let’s hope he chills out on the flight. Otherwise, this is going to be a long job.”
Chapter Two
Vincent Barbosa sat cuffed with his hands shackled to a stainless steel table in a prison visitor’s cell. The former cartel kingpin, known as The Butcher, wore a bright orange jumpsuit. A thick mustache adorned his face along with a smug look as he stared up at the security camera in the corner of the room.
“What’s the holdup?” He shook his chains and spat into the corner.
A moment later there was a rattle from the room’s steel door and it swung open, revealing a middle-aged man dressed in an ill-fitting suit, clutching a brown suitcase. Past his shoulder Barbosa caught a glimpse of a burly prison guard.
Signed SEAL'd and Delivered (SEAL Series Book 3) Page 1
