“Yes. Don’t ask me. Just do it.” Fear laced her words. “But please be careful.”
He picked up her other water bottle and said, “I’ll replace this. I promise.” Leaper emptied the water, drinking thirstily, and then he put the boat in gear and drove a swift course parallel to Boscher. His hand fingered the glass. As he neared their boat, he tossed the glass water bottle in a perfect spiral arc and it struck the head of the other man in the boat. “Now it’s just Boscher.”
“Amazing shot! That engine must be loud, because Boscher is still driving the boat, and he didn’t even notice the hit.” Kerry’s pulse was thudding loudly, and not in a pleasurable way. She didn’t want anyone to be harmed, and the hardware in that boat was not the friendly peacemaker type.
“Yeah, I once nailed a skunk that was eating my friend’s irises. It didn’t kill him, but he was knocked out long enough to relocate to better hunting grounds.” Leaper slowed the boat slightly and veered to the right, so they were riding in Boscher’s wake. “We need to switch places. I want you to drive the boat up to his, as close as you can. I’m going to jump onto his boat and subdue him.”
“That sounds very risky,” she said, swallowing the lump in her throat.
“Kerry, this is what I do. I take down bad guys. If you cannot handle it, we have a problem.” His eyes were determined and forthright. “Are we good?”
“Maybe.”
His eyebrows shot up. “No, this is important. You cannot sit on the fence. Please walk me through…whatever is happening in your mind.”
“I get it. I understand what you are saying. I was looking at you as my boyfriend and not as a SEAL. In the same way I have the potential of being harmed in my job, so do you. Strong emotions can cloud the issue and can even cause harm. So compartmentalizing makes sense at times.” She nodded. “I’ll get better at this. My protectiveness is a reflex, but I’ll get there. We’re good, and if I’m not later on, I’ll tell you.”
He sighed with relief and kissed her cheek. “Thank you. You have no idea how that scared the shit out of me. I don’t want to lose you, but I’m not ready to change my career either. Wasn’t it Popeye who said, ‘I am what I am’? Though his ‘am’ sounded more like ‘yam.’”
She chuckled. “Leaper, you make me laugh. Keep doing that.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she spied another boat, and her smile melted away. The driving was really strange. The person at the helm did not know how to cut through the waves and was in danger of swamping the craft.
“Leaper, is that another one of those tourist boats? Didn’t the person at the helm just wave at Boscher? And why is it picking up speed and heading for Naval Air Station North Island?” Kerry pointed in the direction of the convention center.
“Can you contact Adam?” he asked.
“I’ll try.” She withdrew her phone from her pocket and found Adam’s phone number. She dialed and put it on speakerphone, then handed it to Leaper.
Leaper steamrolled over Adam’s greeting. “Head’s up. We’re following a boat with ground-to-air missiles on board. You have invaders heading in your direction—rental boat with a white hull, green trim, and a hotel sticker on the side. I don’t know what else is on board. Could be weapons? There are several 9 mms in the toolbox. Watson can show you, if you feel you need them. All my guys can land their shots. I’m calling the Coast Guard.”
“Roger that,” said Adam before he rung off.
* * *
Leaper dialed the Coast Guard number from memory. He admired and appreciated the Coast Guard; being an authority on water was a tough challenge. “I don’t know if I mentioned it, but I dated a Coastie who worked in the Command Center. It was a long time ago. She’s retired and lives in Florida now, married to a helo pilot with twin boys. But I’ve never forgotten the Center’s number.” The phone connected. “This is Navy SEAL Leaper Lefton. I’m following a boat—white hull with green trim—and it has weapons aboard. A second tourist boat is heading toward NAS, and it’s unknown what they have. My trainees and a trainer from the Marine Mammal Program lie in wait between them and their destination. My security number is Alpha Tango Whiskey Charlie 6 9 9.”
Leaper rang off. He tucked the phone into Kerry’s pocket. “Ready to go knocking at his backside.”
Kerry put the boat into its highest gear, and it shot forward. She guided the boat to within three feet of Boscher’s. Standing on the bow, Leaper jumped on board. The impact of his landing made the boat rock back and forth.
Boscher looked back. His face distorted from one of relaxed pleasure to intense anger. Pulling a weapon from inside the front of his shirt, he aimed at Leaper and pulled the trigger.
The shot missed, and Leaper ducked low to avoid being shot and belly crawled along the bottom of the boat. Boscher would have to either abandon the steering wheel or wait for Leaper to rise and become a better target. Both options gave Leaper the advantage.
“What’s going on?” A slurred voice was attached to an arm with a steely grip, which had caught Leaper’s leg. The guy who had been nailed with the glass bottle sported a large lump on his head, and his fingers were digging into Leaper’s calf.
In response to the distraction, Leaper’s fist snaked out, slamming into the temple and knocking him out again. No doubt, the man was going to need a CAT scan after this adventure. Leaper added several direct hits to the head and face, just to be sure, and the man stopped speaking and passed out again. Yanking his foot from the man’s grasp, Leaper ran his hands over the missiles. He found exactly what he was looking for: firing pins. He withdrew and pocketed them. The missiles were still dangerous, but they couldn’t be used without these precious pins. Rising onto his knees, Leaper leaned around the seat.
A series of gunshots rang out, and Leaper got a good look at the gun. Unless Boscher had another clip hidden on his person, there was only one shot left.
Standing up, Leaper launched himself at Boscher. His body slammed hard into Boscher’s, and they landed at an angle on the padded seats. Fists connected to skin as Boscher threw punches, and Leaper retaliated with several well-aimed gut punches of his own. He didn’t want to continue this fight, so Leaper threw an elbow strike at Boscher’s throat, which halted the man’s resistance.
Grasping his throat, his face turning red, Boscher righted himself and stumbled forward, then propelled himself into Leaper, who lost his balance and slid off the side of the boat.
Boscher’s maniacal laughter was loud as he pulled a pin from his pocket. Lifting a ground-to-air missile launcher, Boscher inserted the pin, aimed, and triggered the launch.
The missile soared through the air, landing less than twenty feet from the bow of the Coast Guard cutter. A huge geyser blew straight up in the air from the impact. The cutter, which had been heading toward Adam and Leaper’s crew, changed course.
Before Boscher could lift the second missile launcher, Leaper hauled himself back on board, climbing a loose dock line, and rushed Boscher, tackling him to the ground. The launcher fell to the deck of the boat.
Leaper pushed it out of reach and then his fists pummeled the man’s soft bits—diaphragm, gut, groin, and neck—and ended with a hard right cross to the jaw that felt like it broke some bones.
Boscher was hunched over in pain, coughing and choking, before he passed out. The man looked like a bloodied ass, and Leaper would never assume that this guy was out for good. Bad souls had a way of rising again.
Pulling the wet bandana from his pocket, Leaper tightly secured Boscher’s wrists. Several fingernails had been previously yanked from his right hand. What sick fuck would yank out his own healthy nails to prove his death was authentic? Guess one that was trying to get away with a ton of money, the potential for devastating damage to the Navy, and, of course, murder. Bastard!
Tugging on the bandana to make sure that Boscher wouldn’t be free anytime soon, Leaper located a t
ethering line to bind the hands of the other man, who’d suffered from the glass water bottle beating and the punches to the head. Leaper gathered the weapons, making sure all of the safeties were on. As he stood, he could see that the Coast Guard cutter was close enough to communicate with. He gave them a thumbs-up and yelled, “All is secure. I’m Navy SEAL Leaper Lefton. These two men were attempting to take out a ship at Naval Air Station North Island. Weapons are safe. In the boat behind me is Marine Mammal Vet Kerry Hamilton.”
“Coming aboard,” replied a stern voice belonging to a woman whose rank said Coast Guard Lieutenant. Her crew threw lines down to Leaper.
He caught them and secured the lines to the cleats. Waving at Kerry, he urged her to bring the boat parallel with the other side.
“I’m Lieutenant Vy Zalais. We appreciate the call. Looks like this situation could have been worse.” The Coast Guard Officer was dressed impeccably and was wearing a GoPro camera. She gestured to it. “Hope you don’t mind. We’re taping today, to help with training.”
“Not at all. But speaking of training, my crew is up there. I’m responsible for those men, and I need to check on them.” Leaper was anxious to see what was happening. The surface of the water looked calm, but over half of his men couldn’t be seen, and that meant they were under the water. “Can you send an additional boat over there, while I lend my trainees a hand?”
“Yes,” replied Zalais.
A loud groan came from Boscher, who was attempting to reach his pocket. Leaper stuck his hand in the man’s pants and pulled out a cell phone. He’d taken enough explosive ordnance disposal courses to be able to understand the basics. “This looks like a trigger.”
“Bastard,” moaned Boscher. “Last word is mine.”
“Not if this beauty stays closed.”
“Dickhead.” Boscher spit blood. “How do you know there isn’t a timer?”
“Because you have a trigger.”
“Aww, I have this sweet little device so I can make it go boom earlier. What do you say to that?” Boscher looked so smug.
“Where did you put the explosives, you prick?” Leaper gave the phone to Zalais and lifted Boscher off the floor of the boat and into the air. His arms didn’t even shake with the weight. The man was suspended there, at Leaper’s mercy, with his bloody grin and misshapen mouth.
Kerry shouted. “I saw Boscher weaving in and around the bridge. Could the explosives be there?”
Everyone’s attention went to the bridge, which was packed with commuters. The lanes were filled on both sides. Some people were heading into San Diego, and others were driving to work on the base. This was a usual time for shift change, so a majority of those drivers would be military.
“Oh God, no. All those people,” whispered Kerry. “You can’t! Why…why would you do such a thing? What did any of us ever do to you, Joshua?”
“Dr. Ham’ton, you are one of them, following that crazy do-gooder dogma, and none of you would even consider my plans. I’m smart! Brilliant! So, fuck you all. I’m impo’tant. After that bridge goes down, they’ll listen. The whole world will know how I do things.” Blood welled out of his mouth as Boscher spit two teeth onto the deck.
Leaper lowered the man, and two strong seamen took Boscher’s shoulders and hauled him onto the cutter. Cuffs were snapped onto his wrists, and zip ties linked his legs together. Leaper couldn’t watch this anymore. He shook his head in disgust. “Zalais, he’s all yours. Do you want me to call the Amphibious Base for our Explosive Ordnance Disposal?”
Zalais looked over her shoulder, and the Captain signaled her. “Our Captain just did. Go check your crew. When you’re done, meet us at San Diego Naval Port.”
“Roger.” Leaper jumped the small gap and landed on the boat with Kerry. “Let’s check on my trainees.”
The engine was idling. Kerry changed gear and the boat lurched forward, gaining speed as she aimed it at the SEAL trainees and Adam.
“I count two of my guys in the boat. Where are the rest of them?” Leaper scanned the surface of the ocean. He spotted a change in wave movement. “Drive us closer to the barriers of the base.”
Kerry cut the engine and hurried to the back of the boat to lift the prop. “Since the sea lion is familiar with this boat, I’m opening the side hatch and splashing some water on the heavy pad on the bottom of the boat, in case he needs to slide in.”
A hand surfaced from the water and slapped the inflatable.
“Shit. I’m going in.” Leaper dove over the side.
The salt water stung his eyes, but he kept them open anyway. He spotted his three trainees through the whirlwind of sand and debris kicked up from the confrontation. His men were wrestling four invaders.
In a pile connected by ropes were four sets of sea mines. If these insurgents were able to place them near the ships, they would detonate as the ships attempted to dock or leave. The sea lion pulled on the tether, edging the sea mines farther away from the invaders’ reach.
Watson took a punch to the hip, even as he lashed out with a kick to the invader’s groin. It connected, and his opponent doubled over. Way to go, Sherlock. The trainee grabbed the invader and hauled him to the surface.
Tucker had an invader locked under one arm, and he was swinging his empty arm like a pendulum, attempting to connect with the fourth invader, who was dancing just out of reach. Tucker’s face was scrunched up in pain, and his eyelids were squeezed shut. Leaper could only guess that something had gotten in Tuck’s eyes or that the salt was stinging the crap out of his eyeballs.
Coates’s arms were on the shoulders of an invader, and the two of them were rolling, twisting, and tumbling through the water, like a deadly Viennese waltz. The invader shoved Coates’s head against a rock, and they broke apart.
The sea lion came out of nowhere and slammed its nose into the invader’s back. It hit him again with a body slam and a finishing flip of his fins.
Leaper grabbed Coates’s body and took him to the surface. One of the invaders was already tied up in the boat. Watson was on board, catching his breath. One eye was halfway closed and he’d be sporting a nasty shiner in the morning, but he smiled.
Leaper handed Coates up to Wallace and Mesner, the trainee who had transferred to his group after Parks rang out and the groups were condensed into three semi-viable groups. Wallace pulled their Teammate on board and gave him mouth-to-mouth, helping Coates hack up sand and seawater. Leaper gave them a thumbs-up and disappeared under the surface again.
Leaper looked around for the fourth guy. Where was he?
Suddenly something struck Leaper’s back, and he turned with his arm raised, blocking the next strike. Using his powerful arms, Leaper grabbed the invader and hauled him kicking and protesting to the surface. The trainees brought him on board.
Tucker and Leaper fought the last two invaders, striking them in the throats and watching their eyes open wide as they clawed for the surface and air. Following them to the surface, Leaper couldn’t help pointing out to Adam that his sea lion poked at the invaders with that powerful nose thrust and even landed half a dozen bites.
Escorting the invaders to the trainee boat, Leaper gestured to his men to wrap up the situation. His guys were always eager to comply.
Mesner and Wallace hauled the bad guys on board and trussed them up tight. Tucker climbed on board and poured a bottle of spring water over his eyes. “Damn, that feels good. Felt like hot pokers were stabbing my eyeballs.”
Leaper gestured at the invaders. “Keep an eye on them. I’ll get the tourist boat.” He swam over to the invaders’ craft, snagged the docking line, and tugged it closer to the boat of trainees. Then he crawled aboard, where he found the two Navy combat swimmers, Mestor and Soq, lying on the bed of the boat. Checking their carotid arteries, he was relieved to find pulses. “Wake up.” He gave them each a strong slap on the cheek, and they snapped to attention.
“All I can taste is seaweed. Ugh.” Soq spit over the side of the boat.
“There were a few nasty invaders who wanted to get up close and personal with you. We’ve got them. Can you hang here until the Coast Guard arrives?” Leaper helped the swimmers sit up. Over his shoulder he yelled, “Toss us a few drinks.”
Four bottles of spring water were hurled into the boat, and Leaper picked them up and handed them off. The swimmers splashed their faces and eagerly downed the water.
Leaper stood and quickly counted heads: five trainees (there were six, but Worthington was still in the psych ward), four invaders, two combat swimmers, and one gorgeous girlfriend. “Where’s Adam, the sea lion trainer?”
A hand waved from the water.
“Are you okay? Do you want to come aboard?” asked Leaper, offering his hand.
“I’m going to load up with the trainees.” Adam gave a low whistle and splashed the surface of the water. The sea lion popped up beside him. “Hey, Topper. Thanks for the help. Even though you aren’t supposed to engage the enemy, I’m sure the trainees were grateful.”
Leaper shook his head. “You talk to him like he understands you.”
Adam smiled. “He does. His senses are better than mine, than ours, and I’m sure he knows a helluva lot more about what’s happening at any given moment.”
“Interesting,” replied Leaper. “Hey, was that your hand on the inflatable?”
“Yeah, Topper and I were making sure nobody attempted to breach the perimeter of the base. You’re going to find several chunks of flesh are missing from the idiots who decided they wanted to tangle with an adorable sea lion.” Adam grinned. “Fucking amateurs. Looks are deceiving.”
“You have some serious balls to work with sea lions and to take on those targets. This will undoubtedly be an experience they won’t forget.” Leaper shook hands with Adam. “I owe you for watching over my guys.”
The Power of a SEAL Page 26
