SEAL of Approval

by Jack Silkstone

  “I grew up on a farm in the Midwest and always loved animals. There was no way I would or could do anything else.”

  He smiled. “Well, Axe and I are pretty happy you didn’t take a different path.”

  Ali melted at the sight of his dimples. “I’m glad you found me. Axe is a wonderful dog. I’m enjoying working with him.”

  He held his mug in both hands and peered over it. “Uh huh.”

  She blushed. “Well… it’s been nice getting to know you, too.”

  “I’m enjoying it.” He lowered the mug. “So, why doesn’t an intelligent, attractive woman like you have a man in her life?”

  “What is it with you men? You all assume I want and need a man in my life. Why doesn’t a hunky SEAL like you have a partner… or do you?”

  He shook his head. “Nope, just me and Axe.”

  She laughed, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m just messing with you, Mike. I’ve had a few relationships. But none of the guys hang around. I guess they don’t like competing with dogs for attention.”

  “Hardly an even competition, is it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, dogs are loyal, steadfast, always happy to see you, no matter what. No man can compete with that.”

  “Are you saying I should date a Golden Retriever?”

  “No, maybe just a man who has things in perspective.”

  “Oh.” She raised an eyebrow, suggestively. “And do you have things in perspective, Mr. Michael Saunders?”

  He smiled into his coffee. “Maybe. Oh, before I forget, is it alright if I take Axe out tomorrow?”

  “He’s your dog. You don’t have to ask my permission.”

  “I just thought that, as his doctor you should be consulted,” he said, his expression matching his serious tone.

  “Well then, as his doctor I should probably know exactly what it is he’ll be doing.”

  “Ah, that part’s a surprise.”

  She frowned. “Well then, how can I know if it’s suitable for his condition?”

  He grinned. “Well, I thought you could supervise.”

  She set her coffee down. “Sounds like you’re trying to sneak in a second date.”

  He leaned across the table, stopping when their lips were less than an inch apart. “That’s exactly what I’m doing. I’ve got to run, but I’ll pick you up tomorrow at ten.”

  “Yes, sir,” she murmured, fighting the urge to kiss him.

  “I’m not an officer, Ali. You don’t have to call me sir.”

  She pursed her lips seductively. “What if I want to?”

  “Now, that’s a different matter altogether.” He settled back in his chair and downed the last of his coffee. “I really do have to run. I’ll pick you and Axe up at ten hundred sharp.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  Ali’s gaze followed his every movement as he went to the counter and paid the bill. Her eyes were fixed on his buttocks. Damn, they looked good in the tight jeans he wore. He glanced back at her before disappearing through the door. She sighed as she finished her coffee. Crap, she hadn’t asked Mike what to wear. A ten o’clock pickup with Axe suggested something physical, she hoped. Because the last thing she wanted to do was turn up in heels and a skirt when they were going on an adventure.

  ***

  Outside the café, as Mike approached his truck, he spotted a white sedan across the street. His eyes narrowed as he studied it. The car was familiar. Too familiar, right down to the dented front right fender. He swore he had seen it earlier today, parked outside Ali’s clinic. As he eyeballed the car, trying to make out the driver, it pulled out into traffic.

  He drummed his fingers against his thigh as he watched it disappear behind a sixteen wheeler. Shaking his head he opened his truck and climbed in. The coffee had left him a little edgy. Not to mention he hadn’t been sleeping well since Axe was shot. He managed a smile as his mind turned to the date he’d planned. Now at least he had something to look forward to.

  Chapter Eight

  Ramirez located Barbosa perched on a bag of coffee beans, smoking a cigar at the rear of the rusted warehouse. A number of heavies stood in a semicircle around the elderly, battered, man crumpled at the Butcher’s feet.

  He didn’t trouble himself with the victim. That wasn’t his business. He was being paid to find Juan Barbosa’s killer and exact revenge.

  The cartel boss exhaled a mouthful of smoke into the face of his victim, before looking up. “You got something for me?”

  Ramirez’s eyes narrowed behind his aviator sunglasses. “Can we go somewhere private to talk?”

  “No. I am comfortable here.”

  “That’s not what concerns me.”

  Barbosa laughed. “Oh, don’t worry about Pedro. Where he’s going there’s no one to talk or listen.” He prodded the body with his shoe. “Isn’t that right, my friend?”

  Ramirez shrugged. “In that case, I’ve found your man.”

  “Who is he?”

  “His name is Michael Saunders. He’s a Petty Officer with SEAL Team Five. My people are gathering intelligence. When we have enough information, we’ll strike.”

  Barbosa rose from his perch and signaled for Ramirez to walk with him, between shelves stacked high with fragrant coffee beans.

  “I want you to find what this man loves. Gather every detail of his life and find what he lives for. Then, when you have done that, I want you to take it from him.” Pivoting, Barbosa turned and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I want him to feel loss like I have felt. I want him to grieve like I have grieved. Then, when he begs for his life, I want you to kill him.”

  Chapter Nine

  The next morning at 1035 hours, Ali sat beside Mike as he drove his pickup across a cattle guard and up a dusty road. Ahead, a gleaming white mansion materialized from behind a line of trees.

  Ali thought it looked like a temple, more at home in ancient Greece than California.

  “Please tell me you haven’t brought me to a country club when I’m wearing sneakers and leggings,” she lamented as they approached the multi-story, white-pillared structure.

  “Nope, you’re good.” Mike turned onto a track that weaved through the freshly mowed lawns and lush green gardens that skirted the mansion.

  Ali twisted her head to look back at the house. “What is this place?”

  “It’s a country club for rich jerks. A buddy of mine’s old man owns it. He lets me use the facilities.”

  The landscape dramatically turned from manicured gardens to the harsh, rocky canyons that Southern California was renowned for. The road snaked its way up a narrow valley for another half-mile before he parked the truck. “We’re here.”

  Exiting the air-conditioned cabin, Ali inhaled a deep breath of warm, clean air, and surveyed their destination.

  The valley was pristine desert with cactus, rocky outcrops, and stunted desert plants pockmarking the steep walls. Turning, she inspected the area behind the truck as Mike dropped the tailgate. It had been cleared out to about fifty yards, at which point there was a tall mound of sand.

  “Mike, what is this place?” She joined him as he was unloading stakes with targets attached to them. “Ah, now it makes sense.”

  “Yep, we’re going to do some shooting.” He opened the rear doors of the dual-cab truck and lifted Axe from the bench seat to the ground. The dog immediately limped around to the tailgate and sat next to Ali. “Buddy, I’m beginning to think you prefer her over me.”

  “Well, I have been feeding him and you know that’s the quickest way to a man’s heart.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  Stroking Axe’s head she watched as Mike set up two targets, twenty yards from the pickup in front of the wall of sand. Then he took a locked box from the cabin and opened it, revealing a black handgun. “You ever fired a pistol?”

  Ali shook her head. “No. My dad wasn’t really a gun kind of guy.”

  “That’s cool. It takes all type
s.” Mike took up the pistol. “This is a Glock nine millimeter. It’s the most common pistol used by police and military. Easy to use and very safe if treated with respect.”

  He spent the next fifteen minutes explaining how the pistol worked and how to manipulate the controls. Then using an empty magazine, he taught her how to load, cock and position herself to shoot. When she was confident he took a live magazine, loaded the pistol and positioned her facing the targets.

  “Don’t be afraid of the weapon, Ali. Treat it with respect and never forget that you’re the one in complete control.”

  She held the pistol in both hands, how he had shown her, and aimed at one of the paper targets. Squeezing the trigger, she flinched as the weapon fired. Dust spurted from the ground below the target. She lowered the pistol to her side. “I’m afraid I’m not very good at this.”

  “Hey, it’s your first time.” Mike turned and nodded at the truck where Axe was sitting calmly with his tongue lolling. “Axe, thinks you’re doing OK.”

  Ali turned and checked the dog. “He’s not afraid. That’s a good sign.”

  “Not as tense as you. Now, let’s try again.” Mike stepped in behind her as she raised the handgun.

  As he wrapped his arms around her and placed his hands on hers, a tingle of excitement raced across her skin. His body was hard and muscular and he smelt like sweat, oil, and aftershave. She swallowed and concentrated on the pistol’s sights.

  “See how you’ve got your arms locked out. You’re all tense. You need to relax more.”

  That was verging on impossible, she thought. His mouth was directly next to her ear and she could feel his breath on the side of her face. A tremor of desire rippled through her as his lips gently brushed her lobe. She exhaled, tried to relax, and gently squeezed the trigger.

  Dust spat up from the mound, slightly to the left of the target.

  “Nearly there.”

  Yes I am, she thought. She forced herself to relax, trying to ignore the sensation of his body pressed against hers as she aligned the pistol with the target.

  “You want to focus on moving just your finger tip,” he said softly.

  “You’re making it kind of hard to concentrate.” She squeezed the trigger and the pistol jumped. “Where did that go?” she asked, lowering the gun.

  “On target.” He took the pistol from her, cleared it and they walked downrange.

  She joined him as he examined the paper. “I can’t see where it hit.”

  “In the black.” He pointed to a bullet hole half an inch under the bullseye. “Nice one, sharpshooter, you’re a natural.”

  She leant forward and poked the mark with her finger. “Woo hoo.” Straightening she turned and found herself looking directly into Mike’s eyes. For a moment they gazed at each other and for a split second, she thought he would kiss her. Then he faltered and turned his attention back to the target.

  “Do you want another go?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  As they walked back to the firing point she wondered if Mike was suffering similar emotional wounds to Axe. It made sense, considering the bond between the two. She noticed the dog watching his every move as he thumbed cartridges into the pistol’s magazine.

  He handed it to her with the pistol. “This time I want you to try it by yourself.”

  She took them tentatively and turned to face the mound. “Make sure I don’t do anything wrong.” She inserted the magazine and pulled back the slide, as he had shown her. A smile confirmed it was correct. Then she took careful aim and squeezed the trigger.

  “On target.”

  She fired again.

  “OK, so you’ve definitely got the hang of this. Most people take at least an hour before they’re hitting the paper.”

  Smiling she lowered the pistol. “I put it down to a great instructor.”

  “Nope, you’re a natural.” Mike loaded another magazine and handed it to her. “Must be the doctor’s steady hands.”

  She fired off another four magazines before calling it quits.

  “I’ve got something to admit to you,” Mike said as they walked back to the truck.

  Ali’s eyes narrowed. “Is this where you tell me you’re married?”

  He laughed. “No, nothing like that. It’s just… It wasn’t my intention to only teach you to shoot.” He lifted the truck’s tonneau cover and hauled out a picnic basket and a cooler. “I planned on wooing you with champagne and fine food.”

  She smiled. “And here’s me, swooning after one bullseye. I really should learn how to play hard to get.”

  Mike spread a blanket on the ground. As he laid out the food he shot her a worried look. “Now, we’ve got cold chicken and a selection of salads. I hope that’s OK. I asked your assistant what you liked and if there was anything you didn’t eat. She said you love fried chicken. That was OK, wasn’t it?”

  Dumbstruck, she nodded. “Are all SEALs so thoughtful?”

  He grinned. “No ma’am, we just like to be prepared. Time spent on recon is seldom wasted.”

  “Well, I think it is exceptionally sweet.”

  Their gazes met and held as Mike moved closer and placed a hand on the side of her hip.

  She closed her eyes in anticipation.

  With an excited bark, Axe nudged them both with a wet nose.

  Mike let his hand drop. “I think he can smell the chicken.”

  She managed a weak smile. “We can’t have him going hungry.”

  ***

  Mike sat in the web seats of a C-130 transport and adjusted his parachute leg straps. It was Monday morning and the squad was conducting free-fall insertion training. Decked out in camouflage uniforms they wore bulky parachutes, heavy packs and their weapons were strapped to the sides of their bodies.

  The roar of the aircraft’s engines almost drowned out Rick’s voice. “How was the weekend, brother?”

  Mike shot him thumbs-up. “Good, real good.”

  “Did you bang the vet?”

  “Rick, she saved the life of a team-mate. Show a bit of respect.” He returned his attention to checking his equipment.

  “You totally did, didn’t you?”

  “Rick, have you ever heard the expression ‘a gentleman never tells’?”

  “Bro, you’re a SEAL. So that’s clearly not you. Cough up the details. Was she a rocket?”

  Mike shook his head. “You’re a child, Rick. Ali’s more of a woman than you could comprehend.”

  “He’s got a point there,” added Ernie from where he was conducting his own checks. “You’ve got simpler tastes, Rick.”

  “Whatever, we all know Mike’s hitting it.”

  “How about you clowns keep your minds on the job,” bellowed TJ from where he stood next to the controls for the aircraft’s ramp. He lifted two gloved fingers. “Two minutes out.”

  “You totally had a dirty weekend with her, didn’t you?” Rick continued.

  Mike fastened his oxygen mask and pulled his goggles over his eyes. The others did the same and they joined TJ at the ramp.

  “Stand by,” he transmitted over their internal frequency. “Oxygen on.”

  They turned their tanks on. A moment later, the ramp lowered with a whine. Icy cold air ripped into the cargo hold.

  “Thirty seconds,” said TJ.

  “I bet Mike didn’t last that long,” transmitted Rick.

  “Pie hole, Rick.” TJ held up his hand.

  They readied themselves. “Go, go, go!”

  Mike leapt off the ramp into the thin air, alongside the Chief. Rick and Ernie were close behind.

  As they tracked across the clear sky Mike stabilized himself. At close to thirty thousand feet, San Diego bay was a sparkling jewel. The bright, blue water stood out against the golden beaches and slate-grey cityscape.

  “Hey, Mike,” Rick transmitted.

  He turned his head and was faced with the sight of Ernie in an all-fours position with Rick behind him, one hand behind his head and the other on Ernie
’s hip.

  “Is this how you did it, bud? Doggy style with the vet.”

  Mike couldn’t believe what he was seeing as the two veteran SEALs pretended to fornicate while free-falling at an altitude close to twenty-thousand feet.

  “Seriously, show a bit of respect guys.”

  “What the hell are you clowns doing?” transmitted TJ. “Tighten up the formation.”

  Mike shook his head as the pair abandoned their pantomime and joined him and TJ in a diamond shape.

  “Mike,” transmitted TJ.

  “Yeah?”

  “Things getting serious with this girl?”

  He didn’t respond as they plummeted through the atmosphere at 120 miles per hour.

  “You know what’s got to happen if it is, brother. Approaching two thousand.”

  Mike checked his altimeter. As the needle hit two thousand feet he pulled his chute. The canopy expanded overhead, the harness wrenching at his shoulders. Then, as he leveled out, he checked that the rest of the squad was safely under silk.

  “OK, form up on me,” ordered TJ.

  He steered his chute in behind the Chief.

  “Mike, you didn’t answer the question. You serious about this girl, or what?”

  Mike didn’t respond.

  “Silence is damning, isn’t it TJ?” Rick said.

  “You wouldn’t know, Rick. You can’t keep your pie hole shut. Now, what’s the deal with this girl?”

  Mike drew on his right toggle, banking to follow the Chief. “Yeah, I like her. She’s done wonders for Axe. She’s also nothing like any other woman I’ve met.” Their drop zone on the beach was rapidly approaching.

  “Good for you. Keep us posted on how it’s progressing.”

  Mike flared as the sand rose toward him, and touched down gently a dozen feet from TJ. He pivoted and watched Rick and Ernie make their landings.

  “Good work guys,” TJ bellowed. “Now let’s dump these chutes and hit the range.”

  Chapter Ten

  Ramirez was sitting with his family at the dinner table when his phone rang. He pulled the device from his pocket and inspected it.