Peace - A Navy SEALS Novel (DeLeo's Action Thriller Singles Book 3)

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “It’s our young friends, Peace,” Ed announced.

  Peace looked around, and spotted the young men talking to Nancy, before they headed towards the bar. He turned and shrugged at Polasky. “Hey, don’t be so picky, Ed. Business on a Tuesday night is still business, even theirs. Want some help?”

  “Yea, if you don’t mind. I don’t want Nancy to have to come back here.”

  Peace slid out of the booth smoothly, gathering his computer as he stood up. He held out his hand to Jill. “It’s been a real pleasure seeing you…”

  “I’ll wait, Peace,” Jill interrupted.

  “But…”

  “Get back here, you dolt,” Ed ordered. “Let her stick around if she wants.”

  Peace smiled at Jill, leaving his notebook computer in the booth, and then went behind the bar. He took an apron from Ed, as the college students noisily entered the bar. There were six of them, and they were regulars. The group played football together at San Diego State. They always came in, and gave Polasky a hard time; but they spent a lot of money when they came, both in food and drink. Peace never forgot a name or a face, and knowing Ed’s distaste for taking a lot of guff, Peace always tried to pitch in when he was around, which was all the time when in the States.

  The group gave Jill a long, leering look on their way to sit at the bar. They immediately started playing with the accouterments at the bar, and Peace grinned, watching Ed’s hands tighten on his bar towel. Peace put the bar napkins down in front of each of the men, smiling affably, and greeting each by their first name. For his part, Ed resisted the urge to card the men he had carded numerous times in the past.

  “What can I get you guys?” Peace asked.

  “Give us a pitcher of Margaritas, Nicky,” the huge blond man, sitting right in front of Peace ordered.

  “Coming right up, Jack,” Peace said, expertly starting the drink making process, while Ed salted the rims of six Margarita glasses, and placed them on the bar napkins, along with small dishes of cut limes.

  “Gramps,” a shaven headed man, Peace knew as Dink, said with a sigh, as he pushed the glass back at Ed. “You know I don’t like my rim salted.”

  Ed took back the glass, and placed a fresh one in front of the man, silently.

  “Oh,” Dink added, checking the glass out carefully. “Tell the midget to put some Tequila in the pitcher this time.”

  “Why you…” Ed began, leaning forward, but Peace put a restraining hand on his arm, as Dink’s friends laughed at the slight.

  Laughing with them, as he filled the young men’s glasses, Peace looked at Dink. “Try it Dink. See if I made them okay.”

  Dink sipped his drink thoughtfully, and grimaced slightly. “Yea, you got it right this time, shrimp. How about some chips and salsa?”

  “You bet,” Peace said, as he busily filled two bowls of salsa, while Ed brought out tortilla chips.

  Jill watched Peace lithely move around behind the bar, just as professional a bartender as he was a sniper. She sipped her beer thoughtfully, wondering not for the first time what her next move would be. When he had shaken her hand, the same electricity she had felt in the jungle arced through their handshake. She felt sure he had noticed it too. She also noticed how irritated the big football players made Polasky.

  “That’ll be eighteen dollars, gentlemen,” Ed stated, steeling himself for the inevitable.

  “Eighteen dollars?!” Dink exclaimed leaning back on his stool in amazement. “Man, you should wear a mask and hold a gun on us when you say that.”

  “I could put a mask on for you, but I wouldn’t need the gun,” Ed fired back, before Peace could intervene.

  “What do you mean by that, Gramps?” Dink said, leaning towards Ed.

  “I got it,” the shaggy brown haired young man on the end said, throwing a twenty on the bar.

  “Thanks, Chuck,” Peace said, picking up the twenty and handing it to Ed, who had not taken his eyes off Dink.

  Polasky turned finally, and put the twenty in the cash drawer, taking two ones out to hand back to Peace. Peace put them in front of Chuck with a flourish.

  “You think cause you wear that bullshit t-shirt, Gramps, you can say anything you want?” Dink asked, after downing his Margarita, and filling it up again with the pitcher.

  “What, is English your second language? I wouldn’t need no gun for you, punk,” Ed retorted, putting his hands on the bar in front of Dink.

  Dink reached for Ed, but found his arm caught up in what felt like a force field. When he glanced over, Peace had snatched hold of his wrist, and was holding it stock still in midair, a friendly grin on his face. Dink jerked back, but his arm moved very little. Peace released it, and Dink fell back heavily on his stool.

  “You don’t want to do that, Dink,” Peace advised. “Ed here earned the t-shirt he’s wearing, and Seals don’t get into barroom brawls like Charlie Sheen and his buddies in the movie. Just relax, and enjoy the evening. Now, how about some food, guys. Those chips won’t fill you up, I’ll bet.”

  Dink started to shout something back angrily, but Jack reached over and restrained his friend. “Take it easy, Dink, Lil Nicky’s right. Besides, I ain’t going to jail over you shootin’ your mouth off. We’ll have two orders of shrimp and cocktail sauce.”

  “Now you’re talking,” Peace replied. “I’ll go get your shrimp.”

  Jack took out a twenty and handed it to Polasky, as Peace went to get the shrimp, winking at Jill as he went past. Peace hurried through the restaurant to where Ed’s wife Nancy was in the process of making a fresh pot of coffee. Almost Peace’s height, and nearly his weight, Nancy was anything but a helpless woman. Her dark brown hair hung down past her shoulders, tied in a ponytail high up on her head. She looked up and smiled brightly as Peace approached. He had been like a son to the couple for the last four years. She knew her husband would do anything for him. Along with reorganizing and popularizing their bar and restaurant, Peace did their accounting, and payroll chores.

  “Did you get drafted back there, Pauley?”

  “You know how those kids always grate on Ed,” Peace confirmed her assumption. “I’m giving him a hand until they have enough to drink, and eat, they forget about running their mouths off. They want a couple orders of shrimp and sauce.”

  “Coming right up. You go on back in there, and keep Ed from ripping out their throats. I’ll bring the shrimp.”

  Peace laughed. “Okay, but you better hurry.”

  “Will do.”

  By the time Peace returned to the barroom, the group of students were seated in and around the booth Jill sat at, with Ed eyeing them doubtfully. The football players were engaging Jill in a flirtatious dialogue she appeared very familiar with. She nodded her head as she sipped her beer and fielded their questions about her own college experience. Peace stopped by the booth only long enough to let them know their shrimp was on its way. He grinned at Jill, and then joined Ed behind the bar.

  “Why don’t we evict those wise-asses,” Ed said quietly. “I want Dink, and at least two of the others, you can have the rest.”

  “What kind of customer service is that?” Peace said, laughing. “You think a young lady as beautiful as Jill hasn’t ever handled an army of admirers before? They’re a hell of a lot better looking than I am. I still don’t know what she hung around for after the guys left.”

  “Then you do need more instruction,” Ed observed wryly. “I’ll get Nancy to explain the birds and the bees to you. I’ve never been real good with the touchy feely stuff.”

  Peace laughed in appreciation of his friend’s assessment.

  “You do all right when you’re entertaining in the other room on the piano,” Ed pointed out. “I’ve wondered about you not taking in a bunch of those girls who crowd around you in there.”

  “They enjoy hearing me play is all, and I do date,” Peace protested with a grin. “In Jill’s case though, I doubt romance has anything to do with it, but thanks for the thought.”

&nbs
p; “You hauled her butt out of the jungle. Gratitude can be a good start to romance. You need all the help you can get.”

  “You got that right,” Peace sighed. “Hey, at least I’m not some tongue-tied goofball. Thanks to working in the restaurant here, I have people skills.”

  “She ain’t ordering dinner, Pauley.”

  “Are you insinuating I don’t know the difference?” Peace replied, acting hurt.

  “As a matter of…”

  Nancy walked in to the bar with two orders of shrimp, and maneuvered in between the men so she could set the shrimp down. Dink scooted close to Jill and put his arm around her, pulling her close for a hug, as the rest of the young men laughed at the familiarity. Nancy saw the uneasy way Jill reacted, and stayed by the table for a moment.

  “Will there be anything else, gentlemen?” Nancy asked.

  “What would you like, Honey,” Dink asked Jill, leaning close to her.

  “Nothing, thanks,” Jill smiled. “I already ate.” “Well, what can I get you?” Dink asked.

  “Some breathing room would be nice,” Jill replied curtly, drawing laughter from Dink’s friends.

  “You gentlemen behave yourselves,” Nancy warned with a smile. “Ed and Peace over there are professional killers, so I handle their light work. Don’t make me have to come back in here for anything but food related service.”

  Her pronouncement brought more laughter, except for Dink, who had released Jill, stung by her seeming rejection. He looked over at Polasky and Peace with distain. “Those two couldn’t handle Jill here, let alone the six of us.”

  It was Nancy’s turn to laugh, and shake her head. “Whatever you say, young man. Now, can I get you anything else to eat?”

  “No, Ma’am,” Jack said politely, as the rest all shook their heads in the negative, and dug into the shrimp bowls.

  Nancy winked at her husband and Peace, who were still chuckling over her comment about handling their light work. She returned to the restaurant without further comment, and Dink gestured to the men at the bar.

  “Hey shrimp, bring us another pitcher.”

  “Coming right up, Dink,” Peace said, grabbing another pitcher, bumping into a seething Polasky as he did so. “Will you relax, Ed. Man, this is good business for a Tuesday. They aren’t robbing the place.”

  “I can’t stand that big mouth. I’ve wanted to bitch slap his eyeballs out of his head since the first time I laid eyes on him,” Ed replied through clenched teeth.

  “No, really?” Peace said, in mock surprise as he finished mixing the iced concoction, and poured it into the pitcher. “I’ll collect the money.”

  Ed nodded, handing him a tray of fresh glasses, as Peace slipped by him with the pitcher. Peace expertly served up the Margarita’s into the fresh glasses, and placed them in front of each of the students. He collected any empty glasses, and handed the tray back to Ed.

  “That’ll be eighteen dollars, Dink. Are you paying?”

  “What a rip,” Dink grumbled, throwing a twenty down on the table.

  “I’ll bring your change,” Peace said affably, picking up the twenty. Jill put her hand on his forearm as he drew the money back.

  “I have some more questions for you, if I could join you at the bar,” Jill said.

  “Sure, I’ll get you another beer,” Peace reached over to where the young men had moved his laptop, and took it with him to the bar in addition to the tray of empty glasses.

  Jill stood up from the booth with the help of her cane, smiling at the men. “Nice meeting you all.”

  “What the hell do you need to ask that dork?” Dink asked flippantly. “You doing a survey on ugly retards?”

  As Jill turned away without comment, Chuck spoke up.

  “Nicky’s all right, Dink, lay off.”

  “Screw you,” Dink said angrily, pouring himself another Margarita.

  Jill sat on a stool in front of Ed and Peace, accepting the glass of dark beer Peace handed her. “I probably shouldn’t have any more of this, but it tastes so good.”

  “Did you drive over here?” Peace asked.

  “No, I took a taxi.”

  “No problem then,” Peace replied. “I’ll cut you off as soon as you finish this one.”

  Jill laughed. “Okay, that’s fair enough. You really don’t get mad when those guys make stupid remarks?”

  “I’ve had a lifetime of practice,” Peace grinned. “Besides, like I explained to Dink, we don’t get into barroom brawls.”

  “But either one of you guys could probably wipe out any of those guys, couldn’t you?”

  Ed and Peace exchanged uneasy glances, and Peace answered.

  “Jill, it’s only in the movies where people get into knockdown, drag out fights, and walk away unhurt. I’m not Chuck Norris. Those guys are twice as big as me. If I were to get into a fight with Dink over there, I couldn’t afford to fool around with him.”

  “Fool around?”

  “He means he’d have to kill him, Jill, or hurt him real bad,” Ed answered. “I shouldn’t have shot my mouth off anyway, but I’m too old to take some of the crap they try to dish out. Besides, I’m about the same size, so I could fool around a little.”

  Peace laughed. “Anyway, fights are bad for business. If Dink keeps shooting his mouth off, he may get lucky enough to just get hurt a little, or he might mess with the wrong guy, and get real bad hurt. I met a lot of guys like him in college. They used to scare the hell out of me.” “Really?” Jill asked, stunned.

  Ed clapped a big arm around Peace’s shoulder. “Peace here was pretty pathetic back then.”

  “Ed’s right,” Peace nodded, amiably. “Since becoming a Seal, I get a kick out of dealing with these guys who used to make me want to hide. I clown around with them, and they actually like me, or at least most of them do. I guess acting like a weenie has consequences.” This time both Ed and Jill laughed.

  Chapter Five

  Altercation

  “Hey PP,” Dink called out from the booth. “Hustle us over another pitcher.”

  “Coming right up, Dink,” Peace replied, but Jill saw him cringe a little at the name dig. Peace made up the pitcher, and walked around Ed, who handed him a tray of fresh glasses.

  “He hates that one,” Ed chuckled, as he watched Peace expertly pour the Margaritas into fresh glasses.

  “I saw that,” Jill said. “You think that’s funny?” “He can take it, Jill,” Ed shrugged. “I… uh oh.”

  Dink had reached out and grabbed hold of Peace’s arm as he turned to take the tray of dirty glasses back to the bar. Only his excellent balance kept Peace from dumping the tray of glasses. “So, you’re a Seal, a professional killer, huh PP?”

  The rest of the young men watched the exchange, suddenly quiet.

  “No, I’m the mascot,” Peace replied, grinning, as he continued to balance the tray. Ed came around and took the tray out of his hands, laughing with the other young men at the table over Peace’s reply.

  Dink kept his grasp on Peace’s arm, until Peace leaned down. “Are you going to let go, Dink, or do you want a date?”

  This brought pandemonium to the booth, as the already partly inebriated college students laughed uproariously; but Dink gripped Peace even harder.

  “Make me, PP,” Dink said through clenched teeth.

  “Let him go, Dink,” Jack ordered, trying to control his laughter, as the situation began to worsen.

  Jill looked at Ed, but Polasky was just watching the development with a smile.

  Peace looked down at where Dink had his right forearm gripped tightly. “I have a proposition for you, Dink. You let go of my arm, and you and I will go over to this next booth. I’ll arm wrestle you. If I win, you have to shut up, and leave. If you win, I’ll shut up, and leave. How about it?”

  Surprise showed immediately in Dink’s face, as he looked around the table at his now quiet friends. “Do you believe this? PP wants to arm wrestle.”

  “You could just let go, and enjoy
your drink,” Peace suggested.

  Dink released his grip on Peace’s arm, quickly launching himself out of the booth. Peace gave him room to get by, as Dink slid into the booth adjacent to the one he had been in, putting his right arm in an arm wrestling position, and gesturing at Peace impatiently.

  “C’mon, you little prick. Jack, get over here and start us,” Dink yelled over to his friend.

  Peace slid in across from Dink, clasping Dink’s hand as both men hunched towards each other. All of the young men were soon crowded around the booth, as Ed remained behind the bar, watching the situation with interest. Jill looked at Dink’s hugely muscled arm. As the man flexed, muscles and tendons stood out powerfully. Peace’s arm tensed, his arm muscles rippling impressively; but in bulk, Jill could see Dink’s arm was nearly twice as bulky as Peace’s.

  Jack held on to the two antagonist’s clasped hands with both of his, adjusting and straightening the combatants’ arms. “Ready… on three… one… two… three!”

  As Jack released their hands, Dink swung his whole body into a downward stroke he clearly meant to be a painful wipeout for Peace. Although Peace’s arm moved slightly down in reaction to Dink’s onslaught, it soon became obvious this would be no quick smack down. Dink’s facial muscles bulged in tandem with his arm, as he reddened under the strain, and his mouth grimaced in concentration.

  Jill had stood up, and moved for a better look at Peace’s face. He too concentrated, as both men’s arms vibrated in opposing directions. She could tell Peace was staring directly at Dink’s face, rather than at his arm. Peace had an almost amused look on his face at first. A smile started at the corners of the smaller man’s mouth, and Dink’s arm began to move inexorably down towards defeat. Except for the breathing, and the sound of their straining arms on the table, silence reigned. Shock registered on Dink’s sweaty face, soon to be followed by recognition of defeat. As Dink’s hand slapped down to the table surface under Peace’s unrelenting pressure, Dink pulled away in a rage, standing up and pointing an accusing finger at Peace.

  “You cheated… you… you twisted before Jack started us!”

  “Bullshit, Dink,” Jack stated, as the rest of the young men voiced their disagreement with Dink’s accusation. “If anything, you moved first.”