Code Name_War 0f Stones

by Natasza Waters

  “What? You had a creeper after you?”

  “Who do you think that nutcase was screaming on the beach at me? She’s been stalking me, popping up in strange places. She’s crazy. I hooked up with her one night, but it was a huge mistake. If you wouldn’t have run away from me, I would have explained.” Damon sighed. “I tried again at the BBQ, but you were locked and loaded against hearing anything I had to say.” He paused. “Guess there’s an upside to being here, after all.”

  Sloane chuckled at the idiocy of that. “I guess I’d take torture over a creeper, too.”

  Damon smiled at her, and his eyes warmed her with their depth of concern. “It’s probably why I went overboard on you the day we met. I’d had it with looking over my shoulder. I took it out on you and that was wrong.”

  “I’m not concerned,” she admitted.

  The man impressed her, from what she knew of him so far. He’d stuck by her, stood up for her, and was trying his damnedest to make her give him the word, which she would never give.

  Most importantly, Sloane started to believe him about the woman on the beach.

  The bright lights shining on them lit one side of his rugged features, but the other side remained in shadow. It occurred to her it reflected the life of a SEAL, half exposed and half hidden. The hidden side always faced the ones they loved and shared their lives with, oddly enough.

  “But, I still fall into the creeper or weirdo category, is that it?” he asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

  “No. You fall into the brave, handsome and dangerous to a woman’s heart category, and you’re in the Navy.”

  Damon remained silent for a moment. “I don’t have any roses to offer at the moment, but does that mean I have a slice of a chance in hell or no chance in hell?”

  “Finish these seven days and we’ll talk about it.”

  “How about you give me the word, and we’ll talk about it tonight over dinner, after we expose this operation and end it.”

  “No, Lieutenant. We don’t end it, we finish it.”

  Damon’s voice deepened to a serious pitch. “Sloane, I need to know what they told you.”

  “Talk about something else.”

  He sighed loudly. “Tell me why you caved and enlisted if you have such an aversion to the military way of life.”

  “I don’t have an aversion. I grew up Navy. I watched my mom worry herself to death, even though my dad wasn’t active duty anymore. Most families move around, sometimes twice or three times in a year. I don’t want that. I want to stay put.”

  “What if you’re transferred? It happens, ya know.”

  “Then I’ll quit as soon as my contract is up. I like it here in San Diego, and Mom and Dad are here.” She reached her hand through the bars, and Damon didn’t hesitate, folding his large hand around hers.

  “I guess I don’t need to tell you your dad’s a legend amongst the SEAL community.”

  “Apparently, but he doesn’t see himself that way.”

  “Most Special Operators don’t. Your mom was famous too, wasn’t she? I just can’t remember why.”

  “That’s because her story is twenty-five-years-old. My mom is Canadian. She had a rough life until she was hired by Base Command in Coronado. Then it just got tougher when a serial killer decided she was the epitome of evil and needed to be skinned alive.”

  “The Blood Shark. I remember that. It had the city of San Diego and the base, standing on its head. He stalked your mom?”

  “Yah, he made her his prime objective, but dad stepped in the way with his team.”

  “That’s right. Your dad brought him down.”

  She nodded. “During that time, dad fell in love with her. Adam was born that year. They had me a year and half later.”

  “Your family is kind of like a SEAL dynasty,” he teased. “I hear good things about your brother. Sounds like he’s walking in your father’s footsteps.”

  “I guess. Dad’s pretty proud of him, and Mom is too, but she’s always scared for his safety.”

  Damon’s fingers brushed their way up her forearm, warming her from the outside in.

  “Number one job of a mom, right? And I can see you’re the apple of your dad’s eye. Although from what I heard, you torment him something awful.”

  “He deserves it. We fight as much as we kid around. Mom says it’s because I’m just as stubborn as he is.” Talking about family reminded her of Damon’s needs. “This is not a good time for you to be away from your family.”

  “The girls will watch over Dad.”

  “How many siblings do you have?”

  “Six, all sisters.”

  Her eyes popped. “Seriously?”

  “Yup, and I’m the youngest.”

  “Did they drive you crazy, growing up?”

  “Joined the Navy the day I graduated from college, what do you think?” He smiled and her insides found enough energy to somersault.

  One of the Army brats strolled to their end of the cages and they ceased their whispering until he left to join his comrades by the buildings.

  “Why did you stop going into the field?” Curiosity made her ask too many questions. He didn’t appear to be hurt, and that’s why many SEALs quit.

  “After ten years, I’d seen enough shit to last a lifetime. A year and half ago I decided it was time to leave the field. I still get called out once in a while if they need my skills.”

  With all the medals and commendations she’d seen on his shirt, she guessed he had many. “So, you’re thirty-one?”

  “Thirty. I wanted to have a hand in training the next generation of SEALs.”

  “That’s noble. My Uncle Mace and Uncle Tony did the same thing.” She stirred the wet sand with her finger. “They’re not really my uncles,” she paused. “But they’re like family. Closer, actually.”

  He gave her a small quirk of his lips. “Most SEALs are.”

  She concentrated on his finger brushing soft strokes across her hand. Her gaze lifted, becoming caught in his.

  “How old are you, Sloane?”

  She hadn’t even considered Damon’s age. Obviously, he was older. His blue eyes pierced her, waiting for an answer, and it sent a rapid tempo through her core.

  “Twenty-three.”

  Damon broke their gaze, and pulled his hand away from hers. He did the math quickly and made an instant decision—the gap was too large.

  “You’re too young to be hiring guys like Randy,” he said, surprising her and making her angry with his fatherly tone.

  “Who and how I find pleasure is none of your business, Lieutenant.”

  She pulled her arm back inside the cage, tucking it around herself. His withdrawal and critical opinion actually hurt her. Why did she care, anyway?

  “You have a lot of living left to do.”

  “Okay, Dad,” she said tightly, and turned her back on him, lying against the cold iron bars.

  “Hey.” He stroked her shoulder. “Sloane, you’re a beautiful woman, and guys your age aren’t all losers.” He paused when her shoulder tensed under his touch. “I didn’t realize…”

  Guys her age, huh? Message received loud and clear, she thought to herself. She hoped the bitter twist in her stomach was from hunger.

  “No-good, SEAL,” she muttered more to herself to reinforce she had no intention of liking the man. Regardless if he was going to look at her like a little sister now, the message in his eyes told her she was safe, and she’d stay that way if they remained together.

  A heavy metal object began rattling down the cages toward them with soldiers shouting obscenities at the occupants.

  “Cover your ears,” he ordered.

  She rolled, and they stared at each other as vile insults were hurtled at them and the metal rod banged repeatedly against their bars.

  One of the soldiers shoved the pole too far into Damon’s cage, trying to jab him. His reaction was lightning fast, grabbing the end and yanking. The soldier lost balance and his face crunched into the
metal bars. Blood gushed from the guy’s mouth, and he yelped, backing away, spitting out a front tooth.

  “Bring the hose,” another soldier called out. “This prick needs a lesson.”

  “I’m a SEAL, fuckwad.” Damon laughed at him. “I love water.”

  “See how you like this, you fucking asshole.”

  Damon laughed at the guy as he tried to torment him with the powerful spray. It killed Sloane to watch, but she couldn’t look away. The other SEALs started cheering Damon on, instigating their own discipline, but it worked, and the water ceased its pelting torture on him.

  What would be next?

  Suddenly the music stopped. Her ears sighed with relief, but she knew it wouldn’t last. She sensed Damon’s tension. His head rose, and he looked around. A group of five men emerged from one of the small buildings in front of them. She recognized the gait of the soldier who’d threatened to rape her. The guy was an asshole. He’d got off on turning the punishing hose on her earlier.

  “Been impatiently waiting for this,” the soldier said, crouching down in front of her cage.

  The smell of sour tobacco on his breath wafted past her when he spoke. This guy wasn’t just hardcore, he was malicious. She couldn’t believe they would actually allow these men to rape them.

  “Tell me the word, Sloane. Now, tell me now,” Damon urged tightly.

  “Nah, man, she ain’t gonna say it,” the soldier drawled. “She wants a little of me inside her, don’t you beautiful?” Two other armed soldiers appeared on either side of him. A twisted grin crept across his mouth. “You gonna fight me, or are you gonna like it? I’m bettin’ the latter.”

  Sloane swallowed hard. Intimidation. That’s all. Someone would stop this.

  “Sloane,” Damon’s voice hardened. “This is not intimidation.”

  She bit her lip hard. Mind over matter, or in this case mind over the tight knot in her stomach as the soldier cracked the cage door.

  “Your boyfriend here knows what’s going down. We’re playing for keeps, and I’m going to keep you all night. You think your body is sore from the water? You don’t know pain, sweetheart. I’m going to fuck you until you scream,” he growled.

  Four other women had been extracted from their cages, their partners hurling threats at the soldiers who held them, trying to stall.

  “No!” Damon shouted as the soldier dragged Sloane by the legs from her cage.

  She used her heel, kicking the soldier in his face, but she suffered more being suddenly unfurled from the tight confines of the cage. A muscle spasmed in her thigh, and she cried out, trying desperately to rub it away with her hand.

  Damon thrust open his cage door. None of them were locked, but it clanged shut in his face when one of the armed soldiers kicked it with his boot.

  “Tell me what the fucking word is, Sloane,” he roared at her.

  The soldier pinned her back to his chest, his fingers digging into her throat. “Say night-night to your girlfriend, SEAL.”

  “Sloane, nothing is this important. Please.”

  She could do this. She could take anything. Sloane locked her gaze on Damon. “If I become a prisoner of war, I will keep faith with my fellow prisoners. I will give no information nor take part in any action which might be harmful to my comrades.”

  She recited one of the codes of conduct under prisoner of war situations.

  The sounds of clanging bars and shouting soldiers quieted.

  Why she remembered the words, she didn’t know. She’d been a little girl playing in her dad’s office when she’d first seen them. She’d often spend time in there when she missed him. He’d come home and found her staring up at his wall where they were posted. The Admiral scooped her into his enormous arms and cuddled her to his chest. Her father always smelled so good and no one could ever hurt her when she was in his arms.

  “What do they mean, Daddy?” she’d asked.

  The Admiral had kissed her cheek and rested his head against hers. “The difference between defeat and victory in a warrior’s soul, my girl. And do you know who understands these words better than anyone else?”

  She’d shook her head and then laid it on his shoulder as they looked at the codes together.

  “Your mom, sweetie. No one could defeat her.”

  “Did Mommy go to war?”

  “For a long time, baby.”

  “Is Mommy a warrior princess?”

  The Admiral had chuckled and kissed her. “Yes, baby girl. A warrior princess.”

  Sloane hadn’t really understood the words until now, and until now, she had never missed being in her father’s arms so much. I won’t be defeated, Dad.

  Damon’s eyes pleaded with her before he hammered the cage with a clenched fist. “Damn it, Sloane, the word,” he yelled.

  “I will never forget that I am an American, fighting for freedom, responsible for my actions, and dedicated to the principles which made my country free.” Would he understand the phrases she’d chosen?

  Damon quieted. She could see he was trying to work it out.

  “We’ll see how dedicated you are at making me come,” the soldier said, staring at Damon as he reached up and hooked his finger in her bra, sliding it down to catch under her breast. He squeezed her nipple and kissed her neck. “Feels good.”

  Vile words piled up in her throat, and she bit them back. Saying them out loud would only reveal the panic churning in her belly. She closed her eyes so Damon couldn’t see her fear.

  The soldier yanked her away. If Hell had a voice, its fury possessed Damon. “I will fucking kill you if you violate her.”

  She heard the cage door clang, a scuffle, fists meeting muscles, grunts, and the sound of the hose being dragged across the sand. The sound of water made her flinch involuntarily.

  The soldier kept a steely grip on her arm as he pulled her behind the few small buildings surrounding the encampment. A line of Army tents, each one about ten feet in diameter with a light glimmering inside, sat side by side.

  “In you go, bitch,” the soldier said.

  Pushing her roughly to her knees, she hit the hard earth and felt the skin rub off.

  “Changing your mind?”

  Fear choked her throat. “Seaman Austen—”

  “My pleasure, your pain, but I’ll make it good for both of us.” He pulled his fatigue jacket from his shoulders, dropping it to the ground, and gripped the hem of his moss colored t-shirt, pulling it over his head.

  This couldn’t be happening, but she watched as he stripped down to his pants, his eyes darkening as he popped the waist button open, revealing a fine line of dark hair leading from his navel to below the band of his shorts.

  Glancing around, she saw a small Army cot in the middle of the tent, ropes attached to both ends of the frame. She pushed to her feet and backed up a few steps.

  The man was hung like a horse, his erection tenting his pants. She bit her lip with indecision. What would her father do? He’d wait. Assess.

  Her heart hammered with fear.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” he said.

  “This is not happening.” A swell of fear clutched Sloane, and her heart throbbed in her throat.

  “It’s happening all right. Unless you want to tell me what your word is.” She backed away as he advanced. “But I’d rather you didn’t.”

  Like hell she would. He lunged for her, wrenching her arm. She yelled out as he almost twisted it from the socket. Thrust onto the cot, he made fast work of tying her up. He pulled something from his pants, and when he turned, a blade glinted in the light. She bit down on a cry and strained at the ropes. The cold metal slid beneath her underwear and with an upward motion, the fabric tore in two. With the dull edge, he ran it slowly up her stomach. Shivers cascaded through her. The wire undermesh of her bra posed more problems for him, but he cut through that too, exposing her.

  Two thumbs hooked the band of his shorts and slowly he revealed himself. “This is going to feel real good inside you.” With
a slow-moving thumb, he circled the tip of her nipple. “These are nice,” he said followed by a heated growl. “Are you gonna get wet for me, baby?” Leaning over, he pulled her hardened nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue.

  “Oh, God.” She concentrated on her breathing, but it turned into a cry of pain when he bit her.

  This was truly happening. This man was going to rape her.

  “I want you nice and wet when I ram my cock inside you.” He fluttered his tongue across her other breast. “So sweet.”

  His mouth continued to explore, sliding down her stomach as his hands reached up to pinch her nipples. She used the little room she had to thrust her knees and rock herself away from his touch, but she had no way to escape. He gave her a wicked grin before he slid lower and his tongue swirled around her clit. She bucked her hips, but his hands dug into her flesh, his tongue lapping at her sex.

  “That’s it, fight me.”

  She stilled, but her heart banged in her chest. Taking deep breathes, she cemented her attention on the canvas ceiling, and then closed her eyes, sending her mind elsewhere, and it reached out straight to Damon.

  Chapter Twelve

  The redhead between him and Winston had been taken away with Sloane. The soldier who’d chosen her was big enough to tear the little woman apart. Hopefully his dick didn’t match his girth. The girl whimpered, but didn’t struggle when the soldier dragged her out of her confinement.

  “Winston.”

  “Lieutenant?”

  “I need a diversion, now.” Damon’s cage sat near the end of the line. It was less than thirty feet to slip behind the closest building.

  Winston signaled with his hand and received Randeen’s acknowledgement. At the same time, all the men busted from the cages, except Damon. He had just one chance to disappear. The timing had to be perfect when all heads turned.

  Damon remained still in the darkness.

  The soldiers came in a rush and the SEALs and Marines put it into action. Damon moved with swift but deliberate stealth and disappeared into the shadows, skirting the spotlight shining down on the compound.

  Quickly, he made his way behind the buildings where Sloane had been taken. Crouching behind a propane tank, he surveyed the scene: Five tents. Two guards in front of each. Which one?