Brianna's Navy SEAL

by Natalie Damschroder

  Brianna stifled a laugh. His whine actually sounded like a bid for sympathy.

  "This guy,” Cable said in the same soft voice. “Sid Carothers, by any chance?"

  "Uh, I don't know. I don't ask names.” His eyes shifted left, though, and Brie knew he was lying.

  Cable dropped him, and before Marco could do anything, he ran.

  "Let him go,” said Cable. “He'll take a message back to Carothers. And the paperwork would be a bitch. He didn't do any harm."

  But his gaze was speculative when he looked at Brie. “You okay?” He stroked her shoulder and then gripped the back of her neck as she nodded. “You?” He looked at his sister, but didn't seem as concerned, and she was the one who'd gotten hurt. Brianna felt annoyed. She could handle herself as much as Alena could. Maybe. But even if Alena had martial arts training or something in addition to her stilettos, it was a matter of inner strength as much as physicality.

  Cable thanked Marco, who waved them off, and Alena started toward the parking garage again.

  "What a welcome home,” she said. Brie noticed she was rubbing her elbow. It needed attention, but she didn't think it was too serious. Nothing that could really be done right now, anyway.

  "You think he was doing that for Carothers?” Brie asked Cable. Something about it didn't ring true, but she couldn't say why. And he was the expert.

  "Might have been. I won't know unless I flush Carothers out, and that's not why I'm down here."

  They went silent the rest of the way to the car, and brother and sister both looked worried. And Cable worried wasn't something Brianna was used to.

  * * * *

  Cable and Brianna pitched in with dinner preparations, assembling the pre-prepped lasagna materials and tossing salad, while Cable tried to figure out how he could slip out of the house tonight without Brianna asking a million questions. Alena wouldn't need to ask them, but she wouldn't be any happier about him going.

  He should have expected this. He'd suspected Carothers was having him watched, if not watching himself. He'd gotten complacent with nothing happening for the last several weeks. Complacent got you killed. Or someone else killed. And this wasn't a team member who knew the risks. This was his family. This was Brianna.

  He was as much afraid that she'd leave him as he was that she'd get hurt. The danger might prove to be too much. Even if he stopped Carothers before he did anything, he'd still be out there. Him and who knew how many others? He hadn't really considered this when he took up teaching. Neither the reality of old enemies, or the reality of going soft.

  Five years ago, he'd never have considered bringing Brianna down here when someone was mouthing off about him. He wouldn't have let Danny get the jump on him, as ineffective as it was. Why had he not considered that leaving the service didn't mean leaving his past behind?

  "Don't you think, Cable?"

  Brianna handed him a bottle of wine and a corkscrew along with a knowing look. Alena, oddly, seemed oblivious to his reverie.

  "Sorry, think about what?"

  "Yellow candles. They match the centerpiece."

  "What?” He looked at the centerpiece, a mishmash, as far as he could see, of moons and stars shaped in wax and coated with something rough and sparkly. Two taper holders stuck out on each side. “Yeah, I guess. Fine.” Like he cared what color candles they had. He caught Brie looking at him and knew she saw right through him. He winked, but she didn't smile.

  "Hey, he here?” A deep voice bellowed from the front hall, followed by the front door slamming. Cable braced himself when his brother-in-law walked through the door, his arms wide, his bald pate gleaming as brightly as his smile.

  Cable was big. Frank was bigger. A little bit. And he liked to hug with the force of a python.

  "You made it!” Frank moved in. Cable grunted and slapped him gamely on the back, then moved between him and Brie to save her from the same treatment.

  But Brie had taken the measure of Frank already, and she wasn't going to take shelter. Grinning broadly, she ducked into his embrace, and to Cable's surprise, he didn't squish her.

  "Thrilled to meet you. So glad you came down!” He inhaled deeply. “Lasagna? Brilliant. Let me just go clean up.” He lumbered out of the room, whistling.

  "You okay?” Cable asked Brianna, who nodded.

  "I love him already."

  Alena beamed, and Cable knew she'd won them both over. One obstacle overcome.

  He hoped they'd all be so easy.

  * * * *

  Frank waited until they were nearly done with second helpings to bring up Carothers.

  "I'm not thinking that guy at the airport was on Carothers’ orders,” he told Cable as he swiped his garlic bread through the sauce on his plate. “We'd be talkin’ ten degrees of separation there, and that's pretty far for a guy who's been in prison this long."

  "You hearing anything on the street?"

  "Not much.” He shrugged his big shoulders, now covered in an old department T-shirt. “He's keepin’ his nose clean."

  "Have you seen him?” Brianna had asked the question. Cable rubbed his hand reassuringly on her thigh. She covered his hand with hers, and it was steady and dry. So she wasn't freaked out by the conversation, at least.

  "Nope. His territory isn't my beat. He's got some buds on my side a town, but they haven't seen him, either. At least, not that they're sayin'."

  No one said anything else until they were all finished eating, forks and knives crossed on all four plates, crumpled napkins on the table.

  "Dessert?” Alena stood and started collecting the dishes. “I made mousse."

  "I'll help ya, hon."

  Alena made settling motions with her hands when Cable and Brie both started to rise. When they were out of the dining room, Brianna threaded her fingers through his and gripped his hand.

  "You're going out to find him, aren't you?"

  His chest aching a little, Cable leaned forward to kiss her forehead. “You're a smart woman.” He leaned back, and all the words he'd been rehearsing came pouring out. Or started to. “It's the only way to stop him from whatever he's trying to do. Or keep it from escalating. I need to flush him out, let him do his thing, say his piece, whatever. I know what I'm—"

  "It's fine."

  He stopped abruptly. “No way."

  She nodded. “I understand all that. I'd like to go with you, but I know how foolish that idea is. You go. Get it over with. Maybe then we can move on. I hope you're taking Frank."

  "Yeah, and a couple of old team members are in town. I won't be unprotected."

  She smiled a little, but it didn't ease the worry in her eyes. “You'd be well protected just by yourself. It'll be fine.” But her hand trembled a little as she let him go and turned to the mousse Alena had just set in front of her.

  * * * *

  "Ice cream,” Alena announced an hour later, just a few minutes after Cable and Frank had met three guys as large as each of them on the front lawn, then disappeared in a huge pickup truck.

  Brianna, who had been foolishly staring out the front window with her arms across her stomach in the classic worried-wife-left-behind pose, chuckled and forced herself to relax.

  "We just had mousse."

  "So what? We need ice cream. And shopping. There's an outdoor market that's open until ten. I think a little distraction is in order."

  "You sound like a pro.” They collected purses and jackets and headed out to Alena's sedan.

  "I am. Obviously, Frank's job isn't the same as Cable's was, but there are nights.” She unlocked the doors with her key and they climbed in. “You distract yourself however you can. Some nights popcorn and a movie.” She winked at Brie. “Some nights, it takes more."

  "Thanks, Alena."

  "Don't thank me. I'm an interrogation pro, too, and I'm at my best while shopping. I'm gonna know all your secrets by the end of the night."

  "I don't have any I wouldn't share,” Brie said, hoping she was right.

  As they drove d
own the street, Alena launched into her interrogation. Within an hour, Brianna had laughed more than she had in a year, and said so.

  "Doesn't say much for my brother.” Alena pulled a top off a rack and held it up to Brie. It was completely sheer except for the sequined band that would go just under her breasts.

  "No. Maybe for you.” Brie selected an embroidered tunic with bell-shaped sleeves and beadwork. “This is more my speed.” She held it up to herself. “Cable makes me laugh. But he's a more serious type."

  "True.” Alena sighed and stuffed all the clothes in her arms back onto the metal tube. “Let's go look at handbags. They've got some good designer knock-offs here."

  "Leniiii!” A group of squealing women descended on them, all shooting rapid-fire Spanish at Cable's sister. Brie got edged back several feet, and finally retreated to the end of the aisle. Her Spanish was muy rusty, but she caught a few words and understood one of the women had just gotten engaged. She thought he might be on the force with Frank.

  Alena caught her eye, and Brie motioned toward a stand with used books. She wanted to give them time to talk without Alena feeling guilty for neglecting Brie.

  She picked up a paperback and started reading the back cover blurb.

  "Do you have a favorite author?"

  Brie looked up and smiled at the old man. “Several, actually, and always looking for more. But I'm just browsing at the moment."

  The man gave a growling sigh and eased into a chair behind the counter. “Yep, browsing's one of the pure pleasures of life. Not enough people do that anymore.” And he was off, rambling from how we all barrel through life without enjoying the little things, to kids preferring video games and sex to reading books, to the president's economic policies and how they impacted his business. Finally, Brianna couldn't take anymore and bought three books just to escape.

  As she took her change, someone wrapped their fingers around her elbow. Still smiling, she started to turn.

  "Sorry I took so long. Good news, I—hey, that hurts.” Her smile turned to a scowl, then shock when she realized the person holding her arm too tight wasn't Cable's sister, but a man she'd never seen before.

  "I think you should come with me.” He wasn't looking at her, but scanning the crowd with jerking eyes.

  "No, thank you.” Brie tried to yank her arm away. He had long fingers and his grip didn't even loosen. He started to pull her down the street, away from where Alena and her friends had been.

  "Wait.” She looked back at the bookseller, but he'd already found a new audience and was oblivious to her situation. “I'm not going anywhere.” She dug in her heels and pulled back. When the guy braced against her, she leaned forward, then abruptly jerked her arm across her body, breaking his grasp. She turned the other way and started to run.

  She expected a shout. Maybe pounding footsteps, a few screams. Even a crash, as she darted across the main thoroughfare and down a narrower aisle. But there was none of that. She didn't dare look back to see if she was being pursued or not.

  Alley or crowd. She didn't have much time to decide. The alley was nearly empty, so she could run faster. But the crowds might make her harder to catch up to, harder to see. So she stayed on the main way, darting between people and sliding back and forth between stands in the center of the market.

  Finally, gasping, she slowed and looked around. The guy wasn't anywhere in sight. She flipped open her phone to call Alena and tell her what had happened, and a hand closed over hers, snapping it shut again. Brianna jerked her head up, expecting her pursuer, but instead saw someone else.

  "Come with me."

  "No!” Again, she jerked away and started to run. This time, the first guy was behind her. They pressed in on her with menacing grins. And just like that, her fear turned to anger.

  "What the hell do you want?” She elbowed the guy on the right in the solar plexus. He oofed and backed up a step. The other guy came closer, and she swung her right fist, still wrapped around the phone, and smashed him in the ear. He screamed and stumbled away enough for her to start running again.

  But again, there was another person in front of her. She veered right, but he mirrored her move and grabbed her. He was bigger than the other two, his arms longer, and they pinned her arms down and held her off the ground. She tried to kick him, but couldn't reach anything with enough force to matter.

  "Just calm down, and you'll be fine."

  "Yeah, I've heard that before.” On TV, but still. She opened her mouth to scream, and he clapped a hand over it as his cohorts trotted up.

  "Thanks, Gip,” the first guy panted. “She gave us more trouble than we expected."

  "Gip” didn't respond. He let go of Brianna with one hand, then, when she would have yanked herself away and run again, he reached into his pocket and pulled out something she couldn't see, but felt well enough against her neck.

  She might have tried something, anyway, knowing that once they got her wherever they were taking her, she was doomed. He wasn't likely to shoot her in this crowded public place. But before she could move, he'd pulled the trigger.

  Instead of having her head blown off, though, she heard a hiss and felt something cold and needle-like invade her skin.

  "What the hell?” She slapped at her neck with her free hand, her horror spreading with the chemical he'd just injected into her. She blinked when everything started getting wavery and fuzzy. Then her legs went limp. She decided to let them, to become dead weight for these guys, but Gip was prepared. He drew her right arm around his neck, his hand locked around her wrist, and held her tight around the waist. Then he started moving. Brianna tried to drag her feet, but he lifted her high enough it only hurt her toes without hindering him, so she walked as best she could, feeling like one of those moments when you wake up from a dream and try to tell someone what's happening, confusing the dream with real events and unable to articulate anything you're thinking. She struggled to clear her head.

  No one looked at them that she could tell. When she ran, she had been oblivious to the crowd and their reactions. But no one had come to her rescue then, and no one did now.

  Her brain was going fuzzy. Her body felt like one big tingle, and her thoughts were getting less and less sticky. They seemed to slide through her brain without a pause. And she couldn't recognize anything. None of the buildings around them were familiar, and the sounds didn't make sense, either. Seagulls and motorboats. But Al ... Fred ... Cable's sister lived inland.

  She had a vague sense that she should be doing something. Something important. But she couldn't remember what it was. Something was wrong with her legs. Good thing this nice man was helping her along. But who was he? She tried to turn her head to look, but it felt heavy and flopped forward. Oh, well. She could look later. Right now she was starting to feel kinda sick, with all the whirling. She heaved. The guy helping her said something like a curse and leaned her over. He wasn't holding her up so well anymore. She slid from his grasp and landed on all fours, coughing weakly, until everything came up in one lurch and she felt much better. A nap would be good now. She started to lie down but hands, maybe four, maybe ten, helped her up again and started her moving. After that, it was all light and shadow.

  * * * *

  Cable didn't need to penetrate any deeper into his old beat than The Glades, a bar whose ambiance was the exact opposite of the one the name implied.

  He and Frank and his old teammates started there, planning to put the right words in the right ears, then follow the trail until they found Carothers. They walked in, feet sticking to the floor, hair standing up on the backs of their necks in reaction to the hostility permeating the place. It wasn't an establishment any of them should be comfortable in. Cops and military types didn't exactly blend in. Cable wondered if they'd get anywhere asking questions.

  But there he was, sitting at the bar, grinning at Cable with his little rat face.

  Sid Carothers.

  "Cable Addison!” he yelled happily, arms wide, and the tension dro
pped two notches. “Just the guy I've been wantin’ to see!"

  Cable and Frank exchanged a glance. That wasn't what they'd been expecting. Cable panned the crowd, automatically noting who'd had too much to drink, who was harmless because of it, and who was dangerous. Who Carothers had backing him up, and what kind of weapons they might have.

  But after their initial entrance and sizing-up and Sid's greeting, everyone had gone back to their business and was ignoring them. Really ignoring them, not just pretending to.

  "Sid.” Cable carefully approached him. The guy looked surprisingly the same. Hair—and body—a little thinner. A little paler. But he didn't even look ten years older than the last time Cable had seen him. He sat on the stool next to him. Frank ousted a drunk from the stool on Sid's other side and leaned on the bar, facing him. The other guys melted into the crowd.

  "Yeah, I heard you were looking for me.” Cable ordered a draft and turned his full attention on Sid. Well, not his full attention. He still had the back-of-the-head eye on alert.

  "I can't believe you found me.” Sid snatched a handful of peanuts from a dirty bowl and popped one in his mouth. His right leg, propped on the bar rail, bounced in triple time. His left, hooked over the rail of the stool, spun his body back and forth. But despite his nervous energy, Cable didn't see any signs of drug use. His clothes were newish and clean. The blue shirt under a windbreaker even looked like it had a name patch. Like Sid had a real job. Even the drink in front of him was a 7-Up, if Cable wasn't mistaken.

  "Why are you looking for me, Sid?” He shook his head when Sid nudged the nuts toward him. “You've gone to an awful lot of trouble. Stupid trouble, if you ask me."

  Sid's forehead wrinkled. “Stupid trouble? Didn't you get my letter?"

  "I got it.” Cable paid for his and Frank's beers and checked the glass for film before drinking. “Unfortunately, someone broke into my house and stole it before I got to read it."

  "Huh? Someone stole my letter?” Sid looked puzzled but hadn't lost the grin. “You're joking, right?” He looked at Frank, who had his professional stonyface on. “You're—seriously, Addison, man, you can't think I would send someone to do that."