SEAL in a Storm

by KaLyn Cooper

  A few seconds in, John demanded, “Stop.” Without lifting his gaze from the small screen, he asked, “Can you back it up slowly?”

  Dex did as asked.

  Both men stared at the reflection in the mirror on the wall above the girls.

  “I know that view,” John pointed to the gorgeous scene that looked almost like an enlarged photograph that moved. Through a wall of windows, the turquoise blue of the Caribbean rippled as it pushed the tide toward the thin strip of white sand. Pointing to a tiny dot he proclaimed, “I’m pretty sure this is Trunk Cay, the small island that’s part of Coral Reef Underwater Park Trail. Can you enlarge that?”

  Dex tried to increase the size but it became very blurry and digitized.

  John squinted as he continued through the video almost frame by frame. “I think this was taken from one of the homes off Centerline Road.” He shook his head. “There has to be fifty houses in that area with almost that exact view.” He looked up at Dex who held his gaze. “We really need Mart. She’d know exactly which house.”

  “Call her,” Dex ordered.

  As the ranking police officer on St. John stepped away to make the personal phone call, hope rose in Dex. They might be able to wrap this mission up within hours.

  Within a minute, John returned. “Mart is on the other side of the island but will meet us at the resort. We should both arrive at about the same time.”

  “Saddle up, boys. We’re moving out,” Dex shouted so he could be heard by everyone on his team and the helicopter crews. He glanced over at Rayne, who was already picking up her bags. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to slight you by calling you one of the boys.”

  She glanced around, obviously satisfied that they were relatively alone before she said in a low tone, “You’re well aware, I’m all female.” She hoisted her large duffel onto her shoulder and gave him a salacious grin before she turned and walked away to one of the SUVs.

  Damn. With just a look and the swing of her hips, she had him hardening.

  Chapter Seven

  As head of security for the Speaker of the House, Rayne had been in some very nice places. But that was work. She’d never had the opportunity to enjoy the amenities of the resorts where they stayed. Even when she was off duty, she was still in charge and had to set a good example, so catching rays in her bikini on a beach was never a good idea.

  Maybe someday, she silently wished as she stood on the deck of her private villa. She could step off the smooth wooden planks into sugar white sand and walk a brief hundred feet before her toes were in the warm crystal-clear water of the Caribbean Sea. The colors spread before her were a study in hues of blue. Where the water fell off the coral edge, it was a perfect sapphire. As it neared the shoreline, it blended to azure, lightening to maya, then tinges of green turned it to tiffany before it touched the shore as turquoise. The baby blue sky was interrupted by clumps of dazzling white clouds that gathered over the scattered forest green islands creating the breathtaking territory of the U.S. Virgin Islands.

  John had found them the perfect resort. Only a mile-and-a-half from Cruz Bay, the island’s largest city, the upper-upscale resort entrance was nearly hidden between trees. In the lead car, their host had simply waved at the armed gate guard and driven straight to the beach, where they had taken three sets of villas in a row. As though he did this every day, John quickly assigned rooms and assured them they’d get keys at their initial meeting.

  Rayne found her room between Dex’s and the two former SEALs. The Department of Justice men had the room on the other side of their team leader. In the next building over, the three helicopter crews bunked. Farthest away was for the active-duty Navy SEALs who had arrived at the same time.

  What a gorgeous place. It offered in-room spa treatments, twenty-four-hour room service from Cordon Bleu-trained executive chefs, and maid service anytime day or night.

  Too bad their stay was tainted by the presence of the Boco Haram followers and their terrorist leader Aahil Mohammed Jaja.

  Activity on both sides of her caught Rayne’s attention. Everyone seemed to have taken a few moments for themselves to freshen up before taking in their temporary lodging.

  Her phone buzzed with the text. Mart is here.

  Time to throw herself back into work. With one last longing glance at Caneel Bay, Rayne headed toward the Congregating House, as it was indicated on the resort map, which had been turned into an on-island war room.

  Standing next to John and talking with Dex, was a striking woman with flawless warm tawny skin. With her black hair pulled up in a large bun, her almond shaped eyes seemed to almost fill her face. Rayne was instantly jealous of her perfectly shaped eyebrows.

  With Rayne’s Asian facial features, no one could ever seem to shape hers correctly, not even the wonderful Vietnamese women at the salon where she got her nails done every other week. That was her one feminine vice. Okay, she had two; her nails, and her eyebrows.

  Rayne tried not to stare but she was trying to determine if the woman’s lipstick was primarily red or purple. It looked gorgeous with her skin and outlined the brightest white smile she had seen since a mission she’d been on in Hollywood. Her clothes were reminiscent of that op as well. The pencil skirt hugged her curvaceous hips and with the crisp white blouse tucked in, it perfectly accented her tiny waist.

  This woman was drop dead gorgeous.

  Rayne suddenly felt dowdy and underdressed in her comfortable camouflage utilities and jungle boots. After quickly washing her face moments ago, she hadn’t bothered to even swipe on mascara. Lip gloss, on the other hand, was a necessity everywhere she went. Her lips always seemed dry.

  Taking a deep breath, she decided she’d just have to get over comparing herself to the other woman. She was on a mission. In that heat and humidity, she would be wilting before she hiked two miles into the jungle. As Dex already pointed out, no one in that room would be looking at her as a woman. She was just one of the guys.

  And the room was completely filled with large, very athletic men. Most of the active duty SEALs and helicopter crews were in their twenties with the exception of a few who were obviously senior noncommissioned officers. The men on Dex’s team were mid- to late-thirties. She suddenly felt like an old lady. She was old enough to have given birth to at least five of the young men in that room. If it weren’t for Dex, she might be the oldest person there.

  Brushing that frightening thought aside, she glanced around the room cataloguing every exit, every window that exposed them to a sniper bullet, and immediately eliminated every man in the room as a potential threat. She placed them all in the column as an asset. After so many years in the personal protection business, it was an automatic response.

  Round tables were scattered throughout the room. Once again, the computer was hooked up to a large screen television on a side wall with the official shield of Homeland Security spinning slowly.

  Dex glanced around as everyone took their seats. Rayne left a few empty chairs between herself and the small congregation at the front.

  “Thank you, Mart, for coming so quickly.” Dex tapped the computer and an image emerged. The only thing showing was the mirror on the wall, greatly enlarged. All those who’d been at the ballfield earlier knew that ten kidnapped girls leaned against the wall just below that mirror. Thank goodness that’s all that showed. No one in that room wanted the real estate agent to see the entire video.

  “This is a close-up of a mirror in a home on this island. We need to find this house. Do you recognize the view that it’s reflecting?” As soon as Dex finished the question, the entire room went completely silent.

  Rayne’s heartbeat increased but she forced her breathing to remain slow and calm.

  “This could be any number of homes on top of that hill right behind us. There are several possibilities, but I can assure you it is located right off Centerline Road.” She stepped back and swiftly grabbed the mouse, clicking before anyone could stop her. The video started to play from the beginn
ing.

  Dex jumped quickly and clicked to stop it. “Give me just a minute and I’ll get you back to that point.”

  Frozen on the screen was an image of Jaja holding a gun to Mrs. Thompson’s head.

  Mart turned on him. “You will do no such thing. You will show this to me. You need my help, and I need to help that woman.” She stretched out her arm and pointed at the screen.

  Dex only hesitated a second before he clicked play.

  By the time the video went black, silver tears streaked down Mart’s pretty face. “I know this house.” With the back of her hand, she wiped away the dampness. “I can show it to you. It’s for sale.”

  “Ma’am, can you just give me an address? It’s too dangerous for you to be anywhere near there,” Dex warned.

  Both Mart and John laughed. “This is a small island. Many of the streets don’t even have names,” the policeman explained.

  Dex quickly grabbed the paper map and tossed it to Rayne. She unfolded it while he pulled the map up on the computer so everyone else could see. “Can you show me where it is?”

  Mart drew a circle with a perfectly manicured fingernail around several streets running off the main road down the middle of the island. “It’s in this area but it sits down into the woods. It’s currently for sale for $2.4 million but the family is anxious to sell. I know I can get to a much better deal. The house is a bit dated. It was owned by that rockstar…” She turned to her husband as though for help. “You remember, the one who died about two years ago, he played the drums for that band—”

  “Mart, sweetheart, it doesn’t matter who owns it. I’m quite sure no one in this room is interested in purchasing it.” John took his wife’s hand in both of his. “They just need to find the right home, and hopefully those little girls.” His voice broke on the last sentence.

  “You know how I blabber when I’m nervous…and scared.” She stepped into her husband’s embrace and lowered her head to his shoulder as she wept quietly. Within a moment, she seemed to gather her emotions. Looking up, she marched to the map spread out on the table in front of Rayne. Bending over, she carefully pointed and mumbled, “Maybe this one. It’s got a purple roof with weird angles.”

  Dex snapped his fingers. “I should’ve thought of this before.” A few clicks later he asked, “Does this help?” He had pulled up the satellite view of the island and was quickly expanding the area that she had indicated.

  “Oh, yes.” Mart started naming off the owners of every single home in that area. “It’s this one.” She tapped on the computer screen as Dex used the mouse and circled it.

  “Are you sure?” He pushed.

  Mart lifted her head and looked as though she had just been insulted. “Of course I am. I know every home on this island. You will need to come down this road and pass this first house. This map is terrible. There is a road that continues all the way to this house. It’s a paved road. When the place was built, they didn’t want any neighbors so they purchased everything surrounding them that wasn’t part of the national park.”

  A quick glance around the room told Rayne what she needed. Every man on the breaching team was already assessing the ground for infiltration and evacuation. She had already made her mental evaluation.

  Dex enlarged the indicated house. “You’re positive it’s this one?”

  “Most definitely. I’ve shown that house multiple times, I just haven’t found the right buyer for it yet. I encouraged his children not to take the furniture, but they listen to me? No. I even offered to help stage the home with furniture from this wonderful place I know in St. Croix, but would they do that? No. They want to sell the home as is.” Mart shook her head.

  Obviously, what was going on inside that home suddenly hit her. With shaking shoulders, she stared at Dex. “Get that horrible man out of that house and off my island.” She stepped to Dex and grabbed his hand. “If…when…when you rescue those women, and all those children, afterward, you come back here and visit St. John. This is a beautiful island, and he has made it filthy by his presence…” She sniffed. “I will personally find you the nicest place on this island to stay, and you stay free, for as long as you want.” Shaking her head, she pleaded, “Get him before he hurts those girls.”

  Dex awkwardly patted her back. “Thank you, Mart. We really appreciate your help. We can now go after them.” He turned her toward her husband and with an unspoken exchange, John took her from the room.

  As soon as the door clicked behind Mart and John, Dex announced, “Let’s get these fuckers tonight.”

  Twenty minutes later, after a heated debate about exactly what time would be optimal for the raid, John stepped back into the room. “Secure everything,” the local policemen yelled.

  Max immediately flipped over, computers were closed, and the screen on the wall went blank.

  “What the fuck, John?” Dex growled as he strode toward the newcomer in the room.

  “Not a word until I say,” John warned then stepped back out the door and gestured for the resort staff to enter.

  Rayne wanted to smile as the highly trained staff looked straight ahead, quickly set up a buffet table, then marched single file out the way they’d come in.

  When the last person left, John closed the door and didn’t speak for nearly thirty seconds. “I don’t know what time you last ate, but I know what you’re preparing to do tonight, and you’ll need to fuel your bodies. Although the resort staff’s trained to keep their mouths shut, this is a small island. Word travels fast.” He gestured to the heavily laden tables. “I guarantee the food is excellent. Please eat.”

  No one certainly had to invite the active duty sailors more than once, but they all looked to Dex for approval. It took a lot of high-octane food to keep them going. Especially when it smelled that delicious.

  “Food is an excellent idea, John. Thank you very much.” In a louder voice, he added, “You can eat and think at the same time.”

  Rayne waited until all the men had gone through the line before she turned to Dex. “Everyone has eaten, and a few of those SEALs over there are still looking hungry and forward to seconds. But they’re well aware that their leader hasn’t been served yet. Let’s grab a plate while there still some left.”

  His smile touched her heart. “You’re looking after me like a good executive officer.” He glanced around the room. “I think you’re right. It might be a long night and you’ll be thankful for the carbs you’re eating now.”

  Bantering like they did years ago, she patted her hips, “I’m never thankful for carbs. They have a tendency to settle in all the wrong places. The older I get, I swear the farther gravity is pulling everything down.”

  They stepped at the end of the line and she handed him a plate.

  “Looks to me like everything is still in the right place,” he said in a low tone next to her ear, quiet enough so only she could hear. Glancing over her shoulder, she watched his smile grow. “When this mission is over, I’ll be more than happy to check.”

  Everything in her body went cold. The last time they were together after a mission didn’t turn out well for her. She had nearly lost her job because he had not corroborated her alibi. He’d lied. They’d spent the night together and he’d been too embarrassed to tell the investigators that he had been with her.

  Rayne was a smart woman. Burn me once, shame on you. Burn me twice, shame on me. She would never sleep with someone she even remotely worked with, so there was no way in hell she’d find herself naked with Dex Carson again.

  But she had flirted with him, and that was on her.

  When only she and Dex were left in line, she straightened her back and squared her shoulders, her full plate a shield between them. “I’m sorry Comman—” She corrected herself, “—Dex, I spoke inappropriately. I promise to keep my comments completely professional from here on out. Neither of us needs distractions.”

  “Rayne, we have a past and you can’t change history.” He held her gaze until she looked away, pr
etending to search for a seat. “I misspoke as well. If you decide to bring me up on sexual harassment charges, please wait until after we’ve rescued these hostages. They’re more important than your hurt feelings right now.” Dex skipped the rest of the table and took his plate to where their breaching team sat together.

  There was only one empty chair and Rayne was sure he’d take it. She couldn’t stand to see him shut her out, again, so she added a few more things to her plate before she turned to find a seat. To her shock, he pulled up another chair to the table and all the men had shifted, leaving the empty chair on the opposite side of the table for her.

  Damn it all to hell. There he went, being nice again.

  Hands filled with food and drink, she made her way to the table to join the rest of her team.

  Three hours after darkness cloaked the island, Rayne stepped over a rotting log, thankful for the high-tech night vision goggles. This model was so much more advanced than the ones she’d used in Nicaragua. She was also amazed at the tiny communication system that embedded so deep in her ear it couldn’t even be recognized unless someone was specifically looking for it. Somebody had claimed that Dex had secured the leading edge technology through his new job at some black ops company.

  Glancing to her left and right, she could see her teammates as they slowly approached the house indicated by Mart. There were no lights on inside, even though they had checked the utility company and the electricity was still on.

  The whole situation didn’t feel quite right to her. Knowing Jaja as well as she did, because she had researched the man for years, he would never be inside a building without multiple guards layered around his location. Due to satellite problems, again, they had not been able to check for heat signatures inside or outside the house.

  “Hold.”

  She froze midstep. Flipping her NVGs to infrared mode, she scanned the area, remembering to look up into the trees, which made an excellent sniper hide. Other than her team, there was nothing larger than a feral cat.