A SEAL at Heart

by Anne Elizabeth

  Jack hugged her tight. “Thank you, Laurie. God, there aren’t words enough to show how grateful I am.” Kissing her on the ear, he released her and started walking down the gangplank. “I’ll call you in a couple of hours, okay?”

  Chapter 18

  Individuals play the game, but Teams beat the odds.

  —U.S. Navy SEAL saying

  Jack pounded on the door with his fist. His chest was heaving from running, and he was completely incapable of keeping the grin off of his face. The answers were in his hand, captured by videotape, and this time he was looking forward to a meeting with the XO.

  “What the hell?” asked the XO in a gruff voice as Jack yanked open the door. His eyes traveled up and down the panting SEAL, and then he nodded and said, “Roaker, come in. Would you like to take a seat?”

  “Chick, I, uh…” Within two steps, Jack was in the office and headed for the XO’s computer. “Sir, I’d like to stand. But could you please, uh, hook up this vid to your computer? Before it starts, I would like to explain, to tell you how I gained this footage. The Balboa therapy system has long been ineffective for SEALs, and it was imperative that I use the most efficient method to regain my memory. That’s precisely what I did. I reenacted the Op and remembered everything, sir.”

  The XO nodded his head. “Proceed.” He gestured to his computer, and Jack plugged the device in. Immediately, the segment uploaded and opened. Jack forwarded through it until he found the point where the action began. As the video played, the XO’s face changed from his usual affable good-ole-boy Texas demeanor to a deep-lined frown.

  Halfway through, the door opened. They both looked up.

  “Jim, could you…” The CO stared at the two of them huddled behind the computer. “You’re not looking at unauthorized materials, gentlemen. Are you?”

  Both of them stood at attention.

  The XO responded, and then he looked at Jack. “Depends what you mean by unauthorized. Jack, I’d like the CO to see this.”

  Jack nodded his head. “Yes, sir.”

  “Henry, Roaker has been very creative in finding a way to access his memories. He’s been successful, and I believe you might be interested in seeing what he has learned.”

  The CO crossed the room and took over Jack’s spot in front of the computer. Checking his watch, he told them, “I have twenty minutes until a conference call. Go!”

  The XO restarted the segment. Jack stood across from them, listening to the audio and watching their faces. When they reached the part where Don died, he felt the lump in his throat. But the truth was there. He could look Don’s family in the eye and say, “I know what happened.” As difficult as that would be, the closure was important to Sheila, Kona, and him.

  As the video completed, the XO closed the computer. “Roaker, thank you for working diligently to fill the holes in your memory. It clarifies quite a bit. This action is in sync with the majority of the Team’s account. All of this footage was gained with the help of your friend, the civilian therapist, is that correct?”

  “Yes, sir,” replied Jack, studying their faces.

  Picking up the phone, the CO dialed a number. He talked into the receiver. “George, this is Henry. Between us, I’d like to ask you a question about Operation Sundial.” The CO pushed the speaker button.

  “Now, Henry, I’m not at liberty to speak of that mission. You know how the CIA feels about that,” squawked the voice on the other end of the line.

  “Yes, of course, I just wanted to get clarification. When did you commandeer the factory?” asked the CO.

  There was a long pause at the other end of the speakerphone. A choking sound, and then a throat was cleared.

  “About a year ago. We stationed a few people there six months after that,” confirmed the voice. “I really can’t say any more. I have to go.” The call disconnected.

  The CO pushed a button, shutting the speakerphone off. “He’s already confirmed information that wasn’t in the Intel. I’m inclined to believe we weren’t given the entire picture. I’ll take that piece of this incident upstairs.” Moving around Chick’s desk, the CO sat on the edge. “Roaker, this recording isn’t evidence, but it fits the phases, the progression of events, of the Op. Well, with the exception of Pickens and Seeley and their report.” His eyes gazed forthrightly into Jack’s. “I’ll only ask you once, is this your Official After Action Report, SEAL?”

  “Yes, sir.” Jack stared into the CO’s eyes without wavering. He put everything he had into that scrutiny—his integrity, his courage, and his willingness to act with honor. They would either believe him or not. His fate was in their hands. Of course, he had never in all of his eight years of service done anything to violate that trust, and he was depending on that now.

  “That’s good enough for me,” the CO said with a nod and then he stood. He walked to the door and then he said to the XO, “You’ll be speaking with Seeley and Pickens…”

  “Aye, aye, sir. I’ll take care of it,” said the XO.

  “Jack, there will be a Quarterdeck rededication on the Grinder in two weeks. I look forward to seeing you there.” The CO waited for Jack’s nod and then he left.

  Jack and the XO were suddenly alone. The pause was dramatic, and for Jack, filled with relief. “Sir, about Doc Johnson and group therapy…”

  “I’ll take care of it,” said the XO, waving a hand. “You’ll probably have to go through at least one more evaluation, but I’ll get the process moving so you’re not stuck there for weeks on end. And I’ll make some recommendations to the psych department brass. With any luck, maybe they will relocate Johnson to one of the hotter outposts. Who knows, perhaps we can get your civilian consultant on the payroll, too. Though I don’t want any details about what type of physical therapy you’re receiving, Roaker.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Jack was elated. “Permission to speak freely.”

  “Christ, why do you always ask that? We’re alone, Jack. What else do you want to say?” The XO teased him and the annoyance was obviously welcome.

  “Chick, I just wanted to say… thanks. You know, for believing in me.” Shaking his head, Jack didn’t have words to share his gratitude. In one fell swoop, between recovering his memory and this moment, he’d gotten his life back. The odds were in his favor that he would deploy again, soon, and his reputation was whole and unblemished. Both of those things meant a lot to him, more than most people would realize.

  “Yeah, yeah…” Grinning, the XO picked up the phone and dialed two phone numbers that Jack knew by heart: Pickens and Seeley. He said the same thing to each. “I want you in my office ASAP! Together.”

  Laying the phone on his desk, he said, “Why don’t you wait outside of the door, Roaker?”

  “Yes, sir.” Jack gave the XO a salute and a very happy smile. A golden opportunity was coming his way—for Jack to hear two guys get reamed out. He could never remember being happy at someone else’s pain. This time these assholes had it coming. They were going to sacrifice him for their own reasons, and that shit didn’t rock this boat!

  Stepping outside of the office, he closed the door behind him. Then he leaned against the wall, watching the clock. Seeley arrived first. It only took him eight minutes. He must have been somewhere in Coronado. Pickens took thirty-five minutes to arrive. By that point, Seeley was sweating and chewing his thumbnail down to the quick as he waited to be called in.

  Pickens gave Jack a dirty look as he took his place next to Seeley. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know,” said Seeley in a high-pitched and obviously nervous voice.

  The XO must have been be able to hear a pin drop, because his door shot open and he walked out like Patton taking the front line.

  Lieutenant Commander Stockton looked all of the men up and down, and then in a low voice he growled, “Seeley. Pickens. Inside.” Both men passed by Jack; then the XO swung the door behind them, leaving it open almost an inch. Sounds could carry like a loudspeaker through that kind of op
ening. “Men, many comments are running through my mind. The first one of which is why you had the audacity to accuse a fellow Team member without taking the primary responsibility of discussing the question with him. We humble ourselves before each other that we might be stronger. Arrogance and pride will only show you the exit door faster. As a SEAL, it is your responsibility to protect your Teammates. Now, I get that things might appear to be different in Team ONE—we’re tough on discipline. But we are a Team—first, second, third, and fourth—and together, we win. That’s why we’re successful! So, let’s begin with the reason you put Roaker in the line of fire, and let me share this, this is your only chance to set the story straight.”

  The XO’s chair protested as he sat down in it. His hand slammed down on the desk. “Prepare for a long discussion, because whether or not you stay in SEAL Team or see that door comes down to you…”

  ***

  Jack’s Jeep screeched to a stop in front of Laurie’s place. Driving like a kamikaze pilot brought him a tremendous measure of pleasure. He knew it made her give him the disapproving frown, but he kind of liked it and he knew she would get used to it, eventually.

  He looked at her office and home. The building sat on the edge of the water. Kayaks were perched on the wall with a line coming off them tied to a peg in the stone. Laurie lived and worked in the same spot, and this woman was comfortable with who she was. He liked that! And he respected her. He was completely confident in the fact he would have a great time getting used to being with her.

  He saw her standing in the window. Her hands fluffed her gorgeous hair as she walked to the ancient screen door and opened it wide. She waved at him.

  Hopping out of the Jeep, he grabbed the case of Karl Strauss beer and his overnight bag and headed for her. At the door she ambushed him, kissing him—leaving lipstick all over his face. Ah, well, that’s my Laurie. Mine! He was pleased that she primped for him and was excited that he was there. He could enjoy that kind of attention forever.

  Walking through the apartment, he deposited the case on the kitchen table and tossed his bag onto the bed. “I’m home, honey.”

  She laughed and then she stumbled as she was walking toward him.

  “Did you start the celebration without me?”

  “No, of course not!” she said, laughing. “You just bowl me over sometimes.”

  “Gee, thanks,” he said with a grin, and then he scooped her up in his arms and tossed her in the air. With her light frame, his gorgeous lady flew.

  “Jack,” she squealed. “Jack!”

  He did it again, and then he caught her to him and squeezed her tight. “Don’t worry, I won’t drop you, not ever.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and the delight in her eyes hit him full force. Damn, he could stare into those beauties forever.

  “Before we disappear between the sheets, please sit and tell me what happened.” The look on her face was one of serious curiosity, and given everything she had done, he owed it to her.

  Taking her to the couch, he sat with her still in his arms. He helped her get comfortable and then he shared the story. “I arrived at the Quarterdeck shortly after I left you. The XO was already in, and we hooked up to his computer and watched the video. Great idea, by the way—it added a lot to the explanation, and my story connected almost exactly with Knotts and Chalmers.” He sat there, quietly reflecting on the notion. He wanted Laurie to meet them. Was she doing anything this weekend? They’d give him a lot of grief when they first met her, but it would be worth it.

  “Come on, Jack. Don’t stop now. That can’t be it.” Laurie wiggled in his lap, making him think about something other than the Op explanation. “Give me a break. I need more.”

  “Yeah, I thought you might.” He lifted her up and gently placed her alongside him on the couch. Releasing her hand, he went to the refrigerator and took out two bottles of beer, popped the tops off with the magnetic opener on the front of the freezer, and came back. He sat down on the couch next to her and handed her one of the cold brews.

  Jack stared at the bottle for a long time, thinking of how to share what had been hard for him. God love his lady, Laurie was generously silent, allowing him to gather his impressions. When he finally spoke, she smiled at him. “The device worked exactly as you said it would. I wasn’t prepared to see myself, to hear the words coming out my mouth, and to go through everything again with my XO and the CO sitting right there. But I handled it. The truth was heard.”

  He continued. “Afterward, we spoke about the implications of the Op and what the situation told us. I gave him my permission to send it to the brass, and to basically use it to nail the CIA for not disclosing information that got a Navy SEAL killed and several others seriously wounded, in addition to the horrific deaths of the helicopter crews. I hope they fry those CIA bastards! They used us to try to get their assets back, and it cost us dearly. They need to be held accountable.

  “Then there’s Seeley and Pickens who thought I was dirty. All I was doing was following my gut. My instincts shouted that the Op had problems. We all learned Swepston’s Rule of Three. But those guys would rather think the worst of me instead. So much for Team loyalty! The XO read them the riot act for implying without knowing the truth.” He rolled his shoulders and then his neck. “If there is a question next time, the XO told them to honor their Teammate and go fucking ask him.”

  As he settled back in the chair, his voice became softer, and lower. “Hardest part was… letting it sink in… that Don died in my arms. Before I rigged up the gear to hold pressure on his wounds in the copter, my… my swim buddy was already dead. No part of me wanted to accept it. Still don’t… But I’m not sure that reality gives me much of a choice.” Lifting the bottle to his mouth, he took a long sip. Coolness bathed this throat. “To you, Don. I miss ya.” He took another pull. “Best elixir in the whole damn world is beer. Well, in moderation.”

  “Jack, I’m sorry about Don.”

  “Me, too.”

  “What’s next… for you? For work?” asked Laurie as she trailed her fingers on his arm, comforting him.

  “I’m good to go,” he said, nodding his head. “The brass is already getting to the root of the issues, and the XO, CO, and the rest of Team are cool with me.” He gave her a very toothy grin. “Also, I’m going in for a physical and X-ray tomorrow. If I pass it, then I’m off medical leave. Probably will be a while before I deploy, but I can get back to work. No more sitting on my ass and no more threats of doctors and group! Except for you.” Grinning intentionally like a jack-o’-lantern, he tickled her side. “Want to take my pulse, Miss Therapist? I bet it’s racing.”

  Looking at the clock, she smiled back at him and then winked. “I’d love to, Jack, but I’ll have to take a rain check. Gich will be here any minute.”

  “Fuck, what did I do now?” Jack shook his head and did his best hungry hound-dog impression. “I thought we talked about not having Gich in bed with us.”

  “Ew! Jack, bite your tongue! That’s gross!” She pointed her finger at him. “You said, ‘It’s time for a family celebration.’ Those were your words, big man, and he’s family. So, live with it.

  “Besides, I’ve always wanted a normal life.” Shrugging her shoulders, she said, “You and Gich are everything to me, and we are going to grill some steaks, roast some potatoes, have some salad, and drink some beer. We’re going to talk and laugh and eat until the fireflies’ butts start glowing. That’s probably as sane as our life will get. Are you good with that?”

  “Aye, aye, ma’am!” he said with a salute. “Where’s my duty station?”

  “To the grill with you,” she ordered, and her smile could have lit the Pacific seaboard.

  Hearing a set of brakes squeal, he knew Gich had arrived. The man drove the same way he did, like a bat out of hell.

  Jack watched Laurie make her disapproving face as she marched to the screen door and pushed it wide. “Could you drive any slower? You’re like an old lady! You better not get back in
that car and try to drive away. I see you, Gich! Get your ass in here!” Laurie shouted at the top of her lungs at the man who was her mentor, her daddy, and her best damned friend. Her voice echoed the screeching sound back to him.

  God, he loved her, too! She was his warrior woman.

  Chapter 19

  If you’re in a fair fight, you didn’t plan it properly.

  —Nick Lappos, chief R&D pilot, Sikorsky Aircraft

  Two days later at ten hundred hours, two RIBs pulled away from the dock, loaded with personnel. The boats moved at a slow pace, keeping the participants dryer and lending to the seriousness of the occasion, as they traveled side by side toward the center of the Pacific Ocean. The individuals on board were dressed in formal attire: military uniforms, black dresses, and fancy suits and ties. Their faces were similar in repose, all of them solemn as the wind tousled their hair.

  Clear blue skies stretched overhead as far as the eye could see. A pod of dolphins swam alongside the boats, diving in and out of the waves as pelicans dove and flew about, angling for fish. This ordinary nature’s play was the flag of “smooth sailing” to the sailors on board even as the RIBs moved steadily over the whitecapped chop to perform this final rite of passage, a burial at sea.

  Four jets streaked overhead, racing past them. They performed the missing-man formation. F-18s rolled, twisted, and flew together and then three jets shot forward… as one peeled off, flying away alone and, the rest… went on.

  Emotion churned in his guts as Jack watched the display. Then, a signal was given. The RIBs slowed and the engines were cut.

  The Chaplain of the Amphibious Base, Commander Deckard, cleared his throat and then spoke aloud. “We are gathered here today to honor Petty Officer Second Class Donald Dennis Kanoa Donnelly, nicknamed Don. He was a SEAL who sacrificed his life for our country, for the principles we all believe in, for the brothers he walked with, and the wife and child he protected. We have our freedom today because of his willingness to defend this nation. We honor your courage, Don. May all here today witness that Don’s sacrifice was courageous. He will live eternally in the house of the Lord, and may the Lord watch over his family and guard them as he has always done.