Eight Years: A Novel (Trident Trilogy: Book One)

by Donna Schwartze

  George starts shifting again. “What new lead?”

  “I found Amar Petrovic, Custovic’s best friend growing up.”

  “I’ve never heard of him.”

  “No one has. His family moved to Spain after the war. He’s just recently moved back to Sarajevo.”

  “How do you know he even knew Custovic?” George shifts again.

  “They lived right next door to each other from the time they were born until the war basically wiped out their neighborhood. I have real estate records, school records. Their fathers were both leaders at the same mosque. They were friends. I know they were.”

  “So, they were childhood friends—it doesn’t mean they kept in touch. Custovic radicalized after the war. This Amar guy moved to Spain. They probably lost touch.”

  “I thought that, too, but since I located Petrovic back in Sarajevo, I’ve had our agents there tracking him,” I say.

  “You’ve done what? Millie, you can’t make field assignments. Who approved this?” He already knows no one did, so I ignore the question.

  “It wasn’t anything formal. I worked on an interrogation with one of the agents over there last year. We’ve kept in touch. She’s just doing me a favor.”

  “God, Millie, you can’t just do this shit. You have to work through the proper channels.”

  “Do you want to hear what she’s found or not?”

  George sighs deeply. “I know you’re going to tell me, regardless of what I want, so go ahead.”

  “She’s been trailing Petrovic for four months.”

  “Four months? Millie.” George stops shifting and puts his face in his hands.

  “Yes, four months. And, in that time, she’s observed random men, always different men, handing Petrovic burner phones. They stop him on the street, hand him the phone, and walk away. The phone rings almost immediately. Petrovic talks on the phone for about five minutes, and then throws it away. This has happened at least nine times in the past four months.”

  George looks up at me, grimacing. “Yeah, I mean, that’s suspicious, but he could be a drug runner. Maybe it’s his mistress. None of that proves he’s talking to Custovic. Has the agent gotten close enough to hear the conversations?”

  “No, but she’s picked up most of the phones. She’s pinged the numbers that call him. They always hit in the Afghanistan mountains. Different areas, but always up near the Hindu Kush. That’s where Custovic set up shop after the war.”

  George sits up straight. I know I have him now.

  “George, there’s no one in those tribal areas except the true believers. Even if he’s not talking to Custovic, he’s up to something. Maybe it’s the reason he moved back to Bosnia after twenty years. It’s something. And, I think it’s something big.”

  George thinks for a few minutes. I can almost see the wheels turning in his head.

  “I still don’t believe Custovic is alive, but I do agree that Petrovic’s behavior is suspicious. It wouldn’t hurt for us to pick him up and question him,” he says slowly, wheels still spinning. “I will make this happen for you on one condition: that you don’t mention Sayid Custovic’s name to anyone. This is just an op to pick up Petrovic, and find out what he’s up to.”

  “Agreed.”

  “I’ll set the wheels in motion for a SEAL team to pick him up. You’ll need to go down to Virginia Beach to brief them.”

  Just the mention of Virginia Beach makes me want to throw up. In the eight years since my dad died, I’ve learned to steel myself by burying my emotions. I haven’t even let them get close to the surface in years. Just thinking about going back to Virginia Beach is sending emotional shockwaves through my body. I have to keep the emotions buried, but I can feel them getting stronger, just waiting for the most inopportune time to explode.

  “Do I have to work with a SEAL team?” I say cautiously.

  “Why? Do you just want to grab Petrovic by yourself?” George says sarcastically, but I know he’s more than half worried I might really think that’s a possibility.

  “I know I can’t get him myself, George. It’s just. . . you know what I mean.” George is one of the only people in the agency, in my life, that knows my dad was a SEAL, and that he died on a mission.

  “Millie, your dad was one of them. You of all people should know what these guys do, and how well they do it.”

  “He never really talked to me about what he did. I was totally separate from that part of his life. Until. . .” My eyes start welling up. Damn it. I look at my feet. You’d think after eight years, it would get easier. But it never does.

  “Until he was killed?” George says softly.

  “Yeah. That was the first time I’d ever been around any of them. And, I didn’t want to be around them. I wanted to forget everything about what they did to him.”

  “Millie, they didn’t do anything to him. At most, they kept him alive way longer than he probably should have lived. These guys don’t exactly have long life expectancies.”

  “Just going back there. . .,” I say, pausing to try to stop the tear that wants to escape my left eye. “Did I ever tell you Virginia Beach was the last place I saw him? At that base.”

  George squints his eyes which he only does when he’s getting concerned. I straighten up quickly. I don’t want him to send someone else to do this. It has to be me. There is no other choice. If this is going to end the way I think it’s going to end, it has to be me.

  “Do you want me to have Raine take this one? She already works with the teams.”

  “No, definitely not,” I say quickly. “This is my op.”

  “Look, I know how strong you are, Millie. You’re a rock. It will be hard to be back there, but just go in, do your job, and get back to D.C. where you belong.”

  I knew I didn’t have any other choice.

  “Agreed.”

  “And, again, no talking to them or anyone about Custovic. This is just an op for Petrovic.”

  I nod and start to walk out.

  “Oh and, Millie, you’re still a pain in my ass. I haven’t told you that recently, but I want to make sure you know your status hasn’t changed.”

  “Agreed,” I say, smiling at him as I close his office door.

  It’s already well after nine by the time we end our meeting. I decide to head home for the night. I’m barely back in my apartment when I get a text from George.

  You’re expected in Virginia Beach on Wednesday morning for an 8am briefing. Contact Captain Harrison Culver of DEVGRU. He’s a friend... Be at least 15 minutes early. Probably 30 minutes to be safe. These guys are a different sort... Let me know how it goes. Good luck.

  I try to get some sleep, but it’s worthless. It’s three in the morning, and I’m wide awake. I wasn’t planning on going down there until tonight, but I know I’m not going to get anything done until I rip off the bandage.

  As soon as I see the exit signs for Virginia Beach, the tears start streaming down my face, slowly at first, and then so forcefully I have to pull over. I thought I could do this by myself, but I know now that I need backup. I text Raine.

  Just pulled into VB. You up for a coffee?

  She texts back in record speed, especially for her.

  Millie Vanilli!!! I thought you were coming in tonight?? Yes, coffee. Meet me at the Starbucks near Neptune’s Park. I’ll be there in 10.

  I have absolutely no idea where that is. I only lived here a few months after my dad died, and for most of that time, I laid in bed, trying to remember that breathing happened naturally. I remember so little about that time, and I’m pretty successful at blocking any memory that tries to pop back up.

  “You got lost didn’t you?” Raine is standing by her car in front of Starbucks, waiting for me.

  “You know I’ve always been directionally challenged,” I say.

  “No wonder you d
on’t work in the field much,” she says, coming over to hug me. “Girl, I’ve missed you. I’m so glad you’re going to be here for a few weeks.”

  Raine and I met in training at Langley. She was really the only one of my classmates that I liked, and vice versa, so we were pretty much inseparable for the better part of a year. We get our lattes and sit down. I take off my sunglasses and realize the mistake I’ve made much too late.

  “What the fuck? Oh my God, Millie, your eyes are so red and puffy,” she says. “I knew this was going to be too much for you.”

  I put my sunglasses back on quickly, hoping she’ll forget what she’s just seen. No such luck.

  “Really, Mills. Are you just going to wear sunglasses the entire time you’re here?”

  I take them off again. “I just sat in my car on the side of the highway for almost thirty minutes trying to decide if I could do this. I decided I could, and I’m going to, but I need today to work through this before my meetings tomorrow.”

  “Oh, one day, huh? All your repressed emotions are going to disappear in a day?”

  “They’re not going to disappear, Raine, but I can keep them under control,” I say, not sure if I believe it myself. “I promise.”

  “Well, I’m definitely not going to let you do this alone. I can come with you.”

  “I thought you were on an assignment with another team.”

  “I am, but this team you’re going to work with. . . I mean, they’re probably the best assault team in the squad, but they’re a lot to deal with. I’m not sure your first outing with them should be alone. Especially with all this happening,” she says, gesturing to my eyes.

  “No, I’ll be fine. Really. I needed to have a good cry. I’ve had one. I’m just ready to get on with it,” I say. “Tell me about the team. I’ve read their files, but give me your read.”

  “I mean they’re all alpha males. Don’t really like bullshit. Straight shooters, literally and figuratively. They don’t really talk that much, you know. Just be honest, give them good information, and let them do their jobs. They’re the best at it.”

  “Tell me more about them individually,” I say, draining the last bit of my latte.

  “Well, Mason Davis is the team leader. He’s really solid. Tough, smart. Bullheaded. Can be a total asshole, but he’s right about almost everything. And, he’s successful. Rarely fails at a mission.”

  She pauses to look at a text. I look at mine, too. Another text from Chase. I never responded to him over the weekend.

  Millie. Call me. Right now.

  I know what you’re doing. Stop it. Now.

  Raine starts up again. “Then there’s the second in command, Julius Jackson. Everyone calls him JJ. Absolutely no personality. He’s the size of a mountain. I mean, he’s totally jacked. I don’t even know how he moves as fast as he does. He’s one of the trained snipers on the team. Just fucking intimidating from start to finish.”

  It’s funny to hear her talk about these guys. It reminds me of how my friends reacted to my dad the first time they met him. It was always the same. They were scared of him until they figured out what a complete teddy bear he was underneath all of the bravado.

  “Butch Harrison: short, compact, all mouth. Georgia redneck. Tough as nails. But, just always talking. Ty Miller: quiet, always observing, probably knows everything about everything. He’s the most highly trained medic on the team.”

  “How many medics do they have on each team?” I ask.

  “I mean they’re all trained at field medical. One of them is almost always dinged somehow on a mission, so they all need to have the basic skills. Only a few are trained to do critical care in the field though.”

  I guess there was no one trained on how to help my dad when a house he was clearing blew up all around him.

  “Do they know about your dad?” Raine seems to be reading my mind.

  “What? No. No one knows except the higher-ups at the agency and you.”

  “You should tell them, Millie. They take the family thing really seriously here. Your dad was one of them. It makes you one of them.”

  “I’m not part of it. I told you my dad kept me away from all this. I only met a few of them after he died.”

  “It doesn’t matter. They’ll want to know. It’s something you should tell them. Really.”

  “I don’t want them to know. I don’t want anyone to know. You can’t tell them.”

  “You know I won’t,” she says.

  I do know she won’t. She’s the most solid friend I’ve ever had.

  “Is that the entire team?”

  “No, they usually run with six or seven on a team. Let me see, who haven’t I told you about? Umm, Mitch Davidson. They call him Mouse because he’s really small next to the other guys. Crazy fast. By far the best swimmer on the team. Bryce Barton, new guy on the team, just out of sniper school. Seems solid. And Hawk Fuller, whose God-given name is really Hawk. He’s a knuckle dragger. You know, the guy who will do the dirty work. And, he’s really good at it. Probably wouldn’t want to do anything else.”

  “Well, they sound like a really fun group of guys to be around,” I say sarcastically.

  “They’re all right,” she says. “And, they’re going to looooooove you.”

  “Meaning?”

  “You still look like a fucking Barbie doll, Millie. I thought George was trying to make you blend in a bit more.”

  “He was, but as it turns out, this look works surprisingly well in interrogations.”

  “Wait, what does that mean?” she asks.

  “You know most of the guys I interrogate are the religious zealots. They like women to shut up, cover up, and disappear into the woodwork. When I walk into the room, I think it kind of freaks them out.”

  “Shit, I’ve been called a whore so many times, I can’t imagine how many times you have.”

  “Umm, fuck you,” I say laughing.

  “No, I mean, look at you—the hair, the skin, the eyes, the body, and especially the attitude. You have to be their worst nightmare come true.”

  “One guy told me I looked like a ghost,” I say smiling proudly.

  “Oh my God, that’s hilarious. I bet he gave it up pretty quickly,” she says.

  “Well, he definitely didn’t like being in the room alone with me.”

  Raine’s phone is blowing up. “Mills, I’m sorry. I have to go. Do you want to meet for a drink tonight? I can probably introduce you to the team. They usually hang out at a bar by the base on Tuesday nights. Dollar pitchers and free pool tables. They rarely miss it when they’re in town. May be a good idea to meet them socially before the work starts.”

  “Yeah, that sounds good. Text me later.”

  As I watch her walk away, it occurs to me that this might be one of the last times I’ll ever see her. I’ve known all along that I’ll probably end up dead at the end of this, and I’m fine with that if it means finding out the truth. But it’s just now that I’m realizing what it might do to the handful of people in my life who love me, including Chase.

  Chapter Six

  Mason

  Virginia Beach, Virginia

  2019

  “I swear to God if I don’t get to shoot someone pretty soon, I will lose my goddamn mind,” Butch says as he empties yet another practice round down-range.

  “Yeah, I don’t think your goal should be shooting people, and from what I can tell, your mind has been gone for years,” Ty says.

  “Oh, yeah, now you’re going to talk. You don’t say anything for days at a time, but today you have an opinion.” Butch ejects the empty mag from his pistol and sighs as he walks away.

  We just completed another day of training, and we are all getting twitchy. Believe me, the last thing you want operators to be is twitchy. We haven’t been sent out on a mission in almost a month. It’s fuckin
g annoying. It’s like an athlete training every day, but never getting on the field. I just want to get an op or, better yet, get back on deployment. I’m in the worst mood I’ve been in for a while and, believe me, that is saying something.

  “Mason, I need to talk to you before you leave tonight.” I turn around to see Culver standing next to our ready room.

  “You got something for us?” I ask hopefully.

  “Yeah, maybe. Not sure about it yet. Stop by my office on the way out.”

  Culver is an old SEAL, a captain now. He’s the head of our unit. Decent guy. Smart. Wound as tight as a top, though. I really don’t want to end my day with any more bullshit.

  The guys are all headed out to the bar. Again. Like every night. It’s where we spend the most time besides the base. I tell them I’ll meet them there with no intention of showing up. All I want to do is go home and sulk on my couch. I’ve been doing that a lot lately, and honestly, it’s the only thing I have the energy to do. Being inactive makes me tired. Way more tired than going hard for weeks on end. When we’re working, my adrenaline surges. When we’re home, it dies away. It’s on life support right now.

  I knock on Culver’s door as I walk in. “So, what’s the new op?”

  “We have a new agent coming in tomorrow morning to explain it to us. It’s some kind of snatch-and-grab in Sarajevo.”

  “Sarajevo? That hasn’t been active for years,” I say.

  “Yeah, I’m not sure what it’s all about. Friend of mine at the agency calling in a favor. They think the guy is somehow tied to radicals in Afghanistan. Maybe even part of the Hadzic Network.”

  “Yusef Hadzic? Haven’t we tried to go after him about twenty times before?” I personally had been on two raids that ended up being dry holes. I’m not even really sure if he’s still alive, to be honest.

  “Yeah, I know. Again, not a hundred percent sure. We’ll find out tomorrow,” he says.

  “Who’s the new spook? They replacing Raine?” I hope they aren’t. Raine is pretty solid. And, most importantly, she has been easy to train.