by Geri Foster
Sign, SEAL and Deliver
Silver SEALs, Book 8
Geri Foster
Copyright © 2019 by Geri Foster
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
* * *
http://gerifoster.com/
The Silver SEALs Series
SEAL Strong, by Cat Johnson
SEAL Love’s Legacy, by Sharon Hamilton
SEAL Together, by Maryann Jordan
SEAL in Charge, by Donna Michaels
SEAL in a Storm, by KaLyn Cooper
SEAL Forever, by Kris Michaels
SEAL out of Water, by Abbie Zanders
Sign, SEAL and Deliver, by Geri Foster
SEAL Hard, by J.M. Madden
Chapter One
Retired Commander Rye Ellison, lowered his eyelids as he listened to the soft waves gently caressing the Florida coastline like a lover’s touch. The blue canvas beach chair sunk low enough into the sand for him to stretch out his long legs and cross his ankles. While the warm sun toasted his body to a golden bronze, he slipped his sunglasses back on.
As he’d done four times earlier, Rye reached into the cooler beside him, pulled out an opened Corona and tipped it to his mouth, draining the last few drops. Then he relaxed back thinking how wonderful it felt to be surrounded by quiet, peaceful nothingness. Even the friendly seagulls were quieter than usual this time of day.
By all statistics he shouldn’t be here in this haven, but the Navy SEAL Gods had smiled down upon him. He’d made it to retirement and loved it. No tangos, no funerals, no adrenaline rushes, and no fucking bureaucracy.
Life looked perfect through his eyes and felt even better in his soul.
He’d been a SEAL for most of his twenty-five years in the Navy and it hadn’t been a damn picnic. Thanks to back to back missions, it now took him ten minutes every morning to roll out of the sack. Afterwards he still limped around for another half an hour before all the kinks went away.
He’d managed to stay in fairly good shape for a forty-two-year-old man who loved hard, lived harder and carried around all the scars to prove it. Body and soul.
They could have all the hooray shit they wanted. He was finally free to live a normal life.
He’d given the Navy his all. Now with the job complete, he was finished. He wanted to lay back and enjoy the waves washing up on the sandy shore in such perfect rhythm, it sounded musical.
The sun had slowly set by the time he stood, folded his chair and picked up his cooler to head home. A small cabin near Fort Pierce had been ideal for his frame of mind. He lived there alone and wouldn’t dream of having it any other way. He didn’t want to be accountable for his actions, or his time. He’d learned life tended to be better this way.
The place he called home was a far cry from the house he once owned near Virginia Beach. No fancy swimming pool here and no spare room. Just a kitchen, a living area, and bedroom and bath. None of it fancy by any stretch of the imagination.
As he approached the cabin, he noticed a shiny black SUV with tinted glass parked behind his dusty jeep on the circular drive. The vehicle screamed Government issued like a blaring siren.
A tall man dressed in a black suit, black tie, white shirt and buffed loafers lounged against the side, his ankles crossed casually, arms lackadaisically folded. He wore sunglasses although they were no longer needed. Rye knew this particular man had come to see him. He drew closer, his eyes taking in the three other men identically dressed, armed to the teeth and watching their six like his little piece of paradise had turned into a warzone.
As he walked up even closer, he recognized him.
Crash. Shit! Lieutenant Commander Silas Branson.
Rye’s eagle eye let him down for the first time ever. Usually he could’ve spotted the Commander from a mile away as memories of their missions together flashed through his mind. Crash carried the handle of being one of the best Navy SEALs out there.
Rye called out, “I thought you’d skip right over me.”
Crash tilted his head, and removed the glasses, his brown eyes curious and wide. “You think you know why I’m here?”
“Hell, yeah I do.” Rye challenged, being careful where he placed his feet. “SEALs talk. I got word you’re working for DHS now.”
Crash shoved off the car and stepped closer, his lips pursed. “You going to invite me in, or do we stand out here where there’s a strong possibility we might be overheard?”
All business...as usual.
Rye stepped on his porch and propped the canvas chair against the frame of the house then slid open the door. Carrying the cooler into the kitchen, he placed it on the counter to be refilled for tomorrow.
He braced his hands behind him on the kitchen bar and faced the man he’d admired for years. Tall, muscular, dark headed and damn good at what he did, Crash wore his reputation proudly. “I hear you been offering retired Navy SEALs special assignments. That true?”
Crash’s mouth twitched, a good sign he wasn’t happy Rye knew so much without him saying a word. His brows lowered. “That’s supposed to be top-secret.”
Rye chuckled and reached in the fridge for another beer, offering Silas one. The Commander shook his head. Rye unscrewed the cap and took a long drink, before saying, “Hell, you know the SEAL community. Word gets around.”
“So you know I work for Homeland Security? I might as well spill it.” He sat in a wicker chair across from Rye. “I’ve created a new division called Bone Frog Command. If you know that much, you know why I’m here.”
Rye flopped down in his comfortable chair and propped his sandy, bare feet on the coffee table.
His house was a mixture of old furniture he’d picked up at yard sales, consignment shops, even a few things, like the table, were sitting on the curb with the trash. He didn’t need much. He didn’t want anything he would grow attached to. He had done that once and it nearly cost him his life.
“I didn’t know the handle of the Department at Homeland, but I respect Bone Frog just like the Trident. But, I’m telling you right off the bat, I’m not interested.” Rye said, eyes flashing. “I’m flattered you’d come to someone as washed up as I am, but after what I’ve been through…” He shook his head and lowered his gaze and began peeling the label off the bottle. “I’m afraid I don’t have anything left to offer you.”
Crash’s somber demeanor plummeted, his eyes brimming with sympathy. “Rye, you were cleared of all those charges. It didn’t even go to trial.”
“That doesn’t negate the fact that the United States Navy accused me of killing an innocent civilian, raping his wife, and suffocating his young son.” No longer able to control his anger, Rye jumped to his feet. “They threatened to take away every fucking thing I had. They wanted to lock me up and throw away the fucking key.” The madder he became, the more distant his long day of tranquil thoughts became.
Crash leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I went to Afghanistan and proved you’d done the right thing. We learned Ishah Hussein raped his wife and killed his son. It wasn’t you. We cleared that up, or have you forgotten that part?” Crash straightened and raked stiff fingers through his hair, his face flushed. “I went over there and investigated the entire situation until I cleared your name. You killed the number two man of Afghanistan’s renegade branch of the Taliban. You had every right to take that shot.”
“Yeah, but the Navy accused me of going on a hunting expedition. Claimed I went there to intentionally kill Hussein.” He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant
as he took another drink. “Which is exactly what I did. I recognized Hussein as one of the men who’d been instrumental in taking out my entire Team, and I wanted pay back. I didn’t care about my career. My men deserved justice and I saw to it. Everything the Navy put me through was worth it since it was that branch of the Taliban who ambushed my men.”
Crash let out a tight breath to loosen his tense body as his patience grew thin. “With all due respect, they dropped all charges, Rye.”
“Fuck that.” He nervously paced the floor. “They tried to screw me every way they could. They train you to be a warrior and then they want you to be a goddamn Boy Scout. That doesn’t work for me. You kill my men, I’m going to hunt you down and kill you.”
Crash lifted his chin, his eyes squinted. “I know you’re bitter.”
Rye laughed as he turned back to face Crash. “If bitter only came close to how I feel, I’d think twice about everything. But it doesn’t. After twenty years of one mission on top of another, and God only knows how many medals or how many promotions, they didn’t hesitate to put the screws to me when they got a chance.”
“I got your ass out of there, all charges dropped, and you were reinstated.” Crash’s voice rose. After a brief pause, he scrubbed his hands over his face and let out a deep breath. Once again in control, he continued in a lower tone. “I kind of figure you owe me.” Crash’s eyes flickered with indignation and conviction.
“Funny, I don’t see it that way,” Rye commented. “What you did was right a wrong and that was your job. I didn’t do anything any other Lieutenant Commander in the SEALs wouldn’t have done in the exact same situation. They had no right to charge me with anything.
“I went before those asshole admirals who’d never even seen a day of action in their entire careers. Fucking pencil pushers and future politicians. And they were anxious, eager even, to take my career and toss it in the trash.”
“But you got back in the game.”
“What I got was a new Team I worked with for five years. Just long enough to retire. I barely knew them. You know how the SEAL brotherhood works. It’s all about trust. After my men were murdered, I found relying on someone else a hard commodity to come by.”
“It’s no secret someone set your team up. We knew there was a leak somewhere. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find out who it was.” His eyes bored into Rye’s with an unspoken dare. “But you have the opportunity to end the whole damn thing.”
That caught Rye’s interest and he stared Crash straight in the eyes. He’d love to put the rest of the bastards who’d ordered the kill on his Team six feet under. Damn, dare he imagine getting more vengeance? It hadn’t gone so well the last time he sought that route. “Meaning?”
“Khalil Qamar and CIA Asset Harper Woods.” Crash stepped closer. “That make your heart beat a little faster?”
“Qamar has been eluding everything and everyone for years. What makes you think you can get him?”
“I’m not going to get him. You are, with the aid of Woods.”
Rye tightened his jaws. “You trust Woods? I don’t. I can’t swear she’s not the leak. She damn sure didn’t have anything good to say about me at the hearing. In her own words, I was impulsive, aggressive, and didn’t like to follow orders. Not much of a character witness, huh?”
“But her last statement was the one that mattered. The one where she said you were the best Navy SEAL she’d ever worked with.”
“As a CIA Asset, I still find it hard to believe she wasn’t in on the setup. Not sure she didn’t take part in the whole thing.”
“Then why is she still there?” Crash asked. “And the drug money is still there as a lure to Qamar.”
Rye sure the hell hadn’t expected those words to come out of Crash’s mouth. Woods still in Afghanistan? She had plenty of opportunities to get out, and she probably should’ve taken one of them. “I find it hard to believe she stayed all this time. She been hunting down Khalil Qamar?”
“She’s never stopped. While you took out the number two guy, she wants Qamar. His reign of terror continues all over the world, and she wants it stopped.”
“The big question for me is who turned on my Team, then? In my opinion she was the most likely person.”
“What did she have to gain by doing that? If she had turned on your Team and then retired with a bag full of money, maybe.” Crash gave his head a sideway nod. “But why would she stay there and continue to work her resources if she had gotten your Team slaughtered?” He held out his hands. “Don’t you see?”
He didn’t have the answer. Rye had assumed when she came stateside for his hearing, she’d stay in the US. He fought every urge in his body to keep from hunting her down. To confront her. To tell her to go straight to hell. But he didn’t. Three weeks later, he left for Cherry Creek, Virginia, assigned as the Team Commander to another SEAL team. Two days later they had a mission. Somehow Woods got pushed to the back of his mind, and that’s where he’d kept her.
“So, what’s your offer, Crash? You know I’m not the man I was ten years ago. And after the ambush——” He shook his head and stared at the wooden slats on his floor. “I may have been the lone survivor, but they still pumped a lot of lead into me before help arrived.”
“I know there was a time we didn’t think you’d make it. But you stayed and fought for your men. It says a lot about a leader when he’s the last one to go down. When he stays and fights to the bitter end. You did that, Rye. I think you would do it again.”
“Yeah, and the next time I could be killed.”
“Here’s my offer, and I want you to think about it long and hard. Harper Woods has come up with some serious intel that might, for the very first time, make it possible for us to find Khalil Qamar. If what she has is valid, this is our last chance. Our only chance.”
“That means it’s back to the sandlot for me?”
Crash nodded. “That’s where Qamar is. That’s where CIA Asset Harper Woods is, too.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. He needed to think about this. He blinked several times and scene after scene of their last stand rushed through his mind. “I’m not a young guy anymore.”
“You’re still one of the best Team and Task Commanders there is. And don’t cut yourself short. I know you run five to seven miles a day. You work out at the gym four days a week.” He looked Rye up and down. “You’re in great shape. Probably better than you want to admit.”
“You can say that because you haven’t seen the scars.”
“We all have scars, Rye. Just not all of them show. I need you to do this if we ever hope to bring Qamar down. We can’t afford to miss this window of opportunity.”
“I’d jump at it more quickly if Woods wasn’t involved. I don’t trust her.”
“There was a time I thought you two had a thing going on.”
Crash spoke the truth. Even now, the thought of her warm skin against his had his cock coming to attention, but he couldn’t allow sex and desire to cloud his common sense.
“No, not after my team was wiped out and she was one of the very few people who knew exactly where we were, and it was her on the mic in my ear who led us into a trap.”
“Think about it. You have two days.” He put his card on the table. “If you’re not interested, I’ll try to get somebody else.”
“I don’t even have a Team anymore.”
“I have three former SEALs in mind. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”
“I’m already disappointed.”
Chapter Two
Rye watched as Crash slipped into the backseat of the government-issued SUV and pulled out of the driveway, leaving him alone with his troubled thoughts and indecisiveness.
He hadn’t gone on a mission in three years and in that time he had done some serious healing. He’d gotten used to the peace of not waiting for the next tango to come along. The time he had to himself for reflecting on everything had done him good.
He had to admi
t it’d been rough at times to not have a go bag ready for the next call, another mission, a goal to obtain or a target to takedown. For years he’d lived on the adrenaline. For the moment when the phone would ring and he had minutes to report to base, go over the assignment, and get his Team ready to leave.
In all honesty, it had been what he lived for.
Now, since retiring, life slowed considerably. Hell, no one even shot at him anymore. No more life-and-death struggle every day. He could relax and enjoy the scenery. Get as drunk as he wanted and get laid with the drop of a few choice words.
Navy SEAL. God, Froghogs turned all horny and dropped their panties at the chance to be laid by a SEAL. You’d think they all had a damn magic wand in their pants.
As he moved to the kitchen to scrounge up something to eat, he thought about Afghanistan in his mind. That dark area of Qalat in the wee hours of the morning with nothing but him, his Team, and a well-planned shop and drop mission to execute.
The simplicity of the plan had him fighting back the tears, even now, eight years later.
Everything had been lined up and implemented perfectly. The standby unit was there for backup, and the exit route stellar.
They knew they had it this time, they knew they had Khalil Qamar and his second in command, Hussein caught in a well conducted sting. The Taliban leaders were cornered with no place to go.
Rye and his Team arrived in their vehicles, blending in with the locals and immediately set up a perimeter, camouflaged their barriers, and waited. The battle would come to them, they just had to be ready.
The wait had been long and tedious. The silence maddening, with his nerves tight, his muscles drawn, and his mouth dry. Still they waited two hours past the timed arrival of Qamar and Hussein. As a warm morning glow settled in over the Southern part of Qalat, he rose to check on his men. To make sure everyone remained ready for the targets to ride in with their men to meet with Qamar’s distributor.
