by Bella Juarez
Black Ops Brotherhood 4
Tactical Error
Master Chief James “JJ” Jones is at the end of a thirty-two-year Navy SEAL Career. At a chance meeting in San Diego, he meets recently widowed and retired teacher Irene Ortiz. JJ and Irene feel an undeniable attraction that pulls them together for one night. He draws passion from the lonely Irene, the likes of which she has never known.
When JJ becomes the target of a traitor, his life and his budding love for Irene are put in jeopardy. He leaves his beloved SEALs to track down the people responsible for planning his demise when he discovers a plot that could bring the United States military to its knees. JJ is recalled back to Special Warfare Group Five and sets out on a worldwide chase.
Irene decides to follow her heart, and at JJ’s side, she helps him to stop fervent terrorists from unleashing a deadly pathogen. Will JJ and Irene be able to keep the terrorists from unleashing a nightmare?
Genre: Contemporary, Romantic Suspense
Length: 90,547 words
TACTICAL ERROR
Black Ops Brotherhood 4
Bella Juarez
EROTIC ROMANCE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance
TACTICAL ERROR
Copyright © 2013 by Bella Juarez
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62241-993-7
First E-book Publication: March 2013
Cover design by Harris Channing
All cover art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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DEDICATION
To those who inspired this novel, the men and women serving in the United States military both past and present. Thank you for your extraordinary character, dedication, and service. Thank you for keeping us safe.
To the management and staff of Siren Publishing, thank you!
TACTICAL ERROR
Black Ops Brotherhood 4
BELLA JUAREZ
Copyright © 2013
Chapter One
Resurrection Cemetery
Victoria, Texas
March 27, 2008/1648 Zulu
Irene twitched at the sound of the first volley of the twenty-one-gun salute as it tore into the gray, chilly, overcast morning. Her niece’s fiancé, Gavin Walsh, eased his arm over her shoulder as she shuddered at the sound of the second volley that soon followed. The third volley made her heart race. She couldn’t imagine the horror her husband felt when the very same bullets honoring him now had torn through his body and killed him a few days ago. She shut her eyes and Gavin pull her closer. She opened her eyes and smiled reassuringly at him as she pulled away. Chuck Beck, the acting chief of police, walked forward and knelt in front of her.
“On behalf of the city of Victoria and a grateful police department, please accept this flag as a token of our gratitude for Chief Ortiz’s service and dedication to the safety of the citizens of Victoria. We’re so sorry for your loss, Irene,” Chuck said as he handed Irene a folded United States flag.
“Thank you, Chuck,” Irene said stoically.
David’s coffin had been draped with two flags. The next flag bearer came forward and solemnly knelt as well. Irene observed the young man and recognized him instantly. He’d been one of her sixth-grade science students almost fifteen years ago. The young man had struggled in math and science and Irene encouraged him to join one of her tutoring sessions.
Irene remembered the day she was sitting in her office at Victoria High School and he walked in the door to tell her he had just graduated from college and how grateful he was for all her help. The young man had been classified as at risk because of his grades and living conditions. He was also classified because of his race, African American. Irene never believed something as silly as race or ethnicity drove a person’s decisions.
Unfortunately, even in small-town Texas, gangs were a fact of life, but this young man like so many others she’d known had risen above his surroundings and bettered himself. She remembered watching his face light up in understanding and excitement as he grasped the concept of polynomials. She recalled how proud he was when he won runner-up as an eighth grader at the school science fair. When he walked into her office at Victoria High School, she had been delighted at how proud and tall he stood. He’d thanked her profusely and informed her that he was training to be a state trooper. Now he was a member of the elite Texas Rangers.
This was not a memory of, now, Ranger Michael Washington she wanted. She wanted to remember the innocent boy whose mind was ready to absorb all she could teach him not the man looking at her in sorrow and pity. She smiled slightly as he looked up into her eyes.
“On behalf of Governor Rick Perry and the thankful citizens of the great state of Texas, please accept this flag in appreciation for Chief Ortiz’s service in law enforcement and his ultimate sacrifice. The governor as well as Chief Ortiz’s brother officers extend our condolences to you and your family, Mrs. Ortiz,” the young Texas Ranger said as he placed the Texas State flag in her lap.
“Thank you, Michael,” Irene said.
The young man
reached up and gathered Irene in his arms.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Ortiz. I really am,” Texas Ranger Michael Washington whispered as he held her close.
“I know…” Irene said, returning the embrace.
In the background Irene could hear her niece, Amy, crying quietly and Gavin, comforting her. Irene was numb. She wanted to cry, scream, anything to feel something at this loss she was experiencing. Instead she felt numb and detached. She knew the stages of grief and had been trained to deal with these sorts of situations. She knew how to help others in all sorts of things. She was a teacher and had later moved into the position of high school principal. It’s funny how nothing ever happens like they tell you. Thankfully the services finally came to an end.
Irene was led back to the limousine that carried her, Amy, and David’s family back to the church for a reception. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, wishing for this awful day to finally come to an end. They arrived at the church and she went through the motions of her duty as the widow of Victoria’s police chief. She did so stoically and with quiet dignity and grace. It seemed as if this awful day would never end. She turned when she heard her name called.
“Irene?” Gavin asked.
“Yes?” Irene said.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay? Amy and I can stay if you like or you could come to the house…whatever you want to do,” Gavin said hesitantly.
Irene looked around her. She was home. When did I get home? She hesitated for a moment before answering.
“Irene, are you sure you’re all right?” Gavin asked, concern tracing his words.
Irene smiled weakly. Maybe I’m not all right. I don’t even remember coming home.
“Yes, Gavin. I’ll be okay. You and Amy go home. It’s been a long day. I’ll call you if I need anything.”
Irene saw confusion and concern cross Gavin’s rugged features.
“I’ll be here around ten tomorrow morning. Call me if you need anything, Irene. I mean that,” Gavin said.
“I’ll be fine. Go home. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Irene said, walking Gavin to the door.
Irene closed the door behind him and turned back into the house. It was quiet, unnaturally quiet and almost spooky. She felt as if someone were watching her every move. She went to the family room and switched on the TV. Unconsciously she sat down and stared at the screen.
* * * *
Gavin Walsh drove to the house he shared with his fiancée, Amy Livingston. He was worried about Amy’s aunt, Irene. He smiled ironically at the thought. Irene and David had been Amy’s parents in reality. They had decided to raise Amy when her mother had abandoned her. He had met Amy’s mother for the first time today. It was clear that Amy had been much better off with Irene and David.
The woman who was Amy’s mother was unfit to take care of a dog, much less a child. Her attempt to look and act younger than her thirty-seven-year-old daughter was embarrassing. Gavin turned his thoughts back to Irene when he slipped the key into the lock of the garage door that led to the kitchen of the house. Amy was sitting at the table waiting for him.
“Well? How is she?” Amy asked.
“I’m worried about her. She didn’t remember that I had dropped you off first,” Gavin said.
Amy looked away and shook her head. They had engaged in a long conversation about Irene last night. She wasn’t grieving yet, and they were both afraid she could snap at any moment.
“Did you talk to her about grief counseling?” Gavin asked as he took a beer and a Diet Coke from the fridge. He handed Amy the Coke and took the seat next to her. “She’ll need it, honey.”
“Yes, I did. I even offered to go with her,” Amy said.
“Please tell me she’s getting some counseling,” Gavin said.
“She’s agreed to get counseling. She seems so…hollow.”
Amy and Gavin talked for a while longer at the table. He was still recovering from his own near-death experience almost eight weeks ago. He was law enforcement as well. Special Agent Gavin Walsh was an FBI agent assigned to a task force working in Victoria. He was also a United States Navy Reservist with the SEALs. This had been a very difficult few months for this small family.
Gavin and Amy tucked themselves in early after a very long and difficult day. He heard her breathing change and knew she was sleeping. He stared off into the darkness, wishing he could go back in time and make some changes in the events that had led to today. He closed his eyes and reminded himself, it’s better this way…
* * * *
JJ swung his legs over the side of the bed. He yawned as his bare feet hit the cold wood floor in his condo that overlooked the Pacific Ocean in Coronado. He grimaced in pain as he limped to the bathroom, considering that knee surgery he really needed to have. It seemed as if he couldn’t go five minutes without taking a piss nowadays. He finished up in the bathroom and slipped into his usual camouflaged uniform. He grabbed his coffee mug as he lit out for the day. He blinked at the California morning. It was a balmy fifty-eight degrees outside and 4:30 a.m. He arrived at the barracks unit on Coronado Naval Amphibious Base at exactly 4:45 a.m.
“Morning, Master Chief,” a voice in the darkness said.
“Good morning, Shark. How are the tadpoles sleeping this morning?” JJ asked.
“Peaceful as can be. They tied one on in celebration last night. Most of them got in about two hours ago,” Shark said with a wide, toothy smile that reminded JJ of a real shark.
The young trainees sleeping inside had just completed one of their required SEAL Qualification Training rotations, or SQTs as it was known in the community. In another few months most of them would be pinning on the highly coveted Trident badge of the United States Navy SEALs. They had reason to celebrate. This rotation had been a particularly brutal one. JJ shrugged it off. They had to learn to adapt, improvise, and overcome less than ideal situations. The two trainers were about to turn sweet dreams into a live nightmare for the unsuspecting trainees sleeping inside.
“No kidding?” JJ asked in mock surprise. He looked toward the west where the Pacific Ocean lay barely a mile from where he stood. “How about a swim for those little tadpoles this morning?”
The door to the barracks burst open as JJ and Shark proceeded to terrorize the sleeping trainees under their charge. JJ really didn’t have to do this anymore. He should be sitting behind a desk, pushing papers and listening to the admiral’s bullshit problems. He enjoyed this much better. He’d convinced the admiral of Headquarters Naval Special Warfare to let him have two days a week at his true passion, training new SEALs in different parts of their SQT rotations after their Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL School or BUD/S.
JJ kicked the first bunk he walked into in the dark room. Shark proceeded to turn over the place, throwing uniforms and other items he could reach all over the floor.
“Drop your cocks and grab your socks!” JJ demanded as he kicked the next bunk.
“Off your ass and on your fucking feet!” Shark yelled as he nearly turned over one of the bunks he was terrorizing.
“What the fuck, Master Chief? It’s fucking four forty-five and you said we could sleep in!” one of the trainees demanded.
“So I lied! Do you think some jihadist bastard is calling for an appointment so he can pop you a new asshole in the middle of your forehead? On your feet!” JJ loudly demanded. “You want that fucking Trident? Hit the surf in five, we’re going for a swim this morning, ladies!” He made his way around.
“We can’t get our wetsuits and hit the surf in five, Master Chief!” another of the trainees whined in the distance.
“You adapt! You improvise! You fucking overcome the unfortunate circumstances you’re in! Do you think every op is perfect and you will have all the equipment you need? The answer is no! Pussy-ass bastards!” JJ barked as he kicked opened the door to the head.
JJ and Shark exchanged smiles as they jogged behind the group making their way to the beach and the sixty-degree water. The group of trainees
knew better than to complain at this point. They were hitting the cold water and afterward the two chiefs would figure out some other sadistic torture to heap upon them. What the trainees did not know was the two men behind them had been Navy SEALs before some of those kids could spell seal. They were preparing these kids for the unexpected life they were about to take on. It didn’t matter if they partied until three in the morning. When the call to duty came, they’d better be sober and ready. The enemy wasn’t about to listen to any bullshit excuses, and operations were conducted on someone else’s timetable.
It was noon when JJ walked into the command suite of Admiral Charles “Dixie” Campbell’s office. While JJ had been running his trainees to lunch, the admiral had put out a call for him. He walked into the office and smiled at Markie, the admiral’s secretary. The door was closed, so that meant Dixie was on a high-level call or there was someone inside getting their ass chewed.
“Chief…” Markie purred.
“Markie…will you marry me?” JJ asked with a sly grin.
“Depends,” Markie said with a flirty smile.
“Oh? On what?”
“On if my husband lets me. I could take you both on and curl your toes at the same time.”
“I’ll bet you could.” JJ said with a seductive chuckle.
“JJ! Quick fucking around and get in here!” Admiral Campbell barked.
“Later, Chief.” Markie waved as he turned his attention to Admiral Campbell.
JJ walked into Dixie’s office. It never ceased to amaze him how far he and Dixie had come. They’d been SEALs long before it was sexy and glamorous. They’d hung in there when special operations functionality and viability had been questioned and even threatened to the point of extinction in the United States military.
