True Devotion (20 page)

When this situation was over, he would find a way to ensure that this could never happen again—even if it meant selling his business and cutting all his contacts. If he had done that before, the general would never have been able to pressure him into this situation.

He already owed Kelly; he had Nick’s death on his conscience, and now one more debt had been added to that pile. He’d been forced to use her as a way to watch Joe and without intending it had just placed her life in danger.

He would have to use the extra days he had built into the schedule, and not as he had first planned. Any idea of tipping off the SEALs early, before this deal was complete, could be forgotten. The general had made his point. Killing Iris had been a simple reminder that next time it might be his son. Or Kelly.

He would have to make sure the SEALs could not disrupt this shipment. It had been three years since he had been in the business. There were always leaks. If the SEALs picked up through other intelligence assets that the device was moving . . . He needed a decisive way to take the SEALs out of play.

* * *

Kelly found the sand warm under her feet. She had slipped off her shoes; they dangled in her left hand. It was a sunny late afternoon, and children were laughing as they built elaborate sandcastles in the smooth sand at the water’s edge. Ryan, his dad having a meeting over at the Naval Air Station North Island, had called and asked if he could stop by after school. Kelly was enjoying their walk together, even if the conversation was quite serious. What happened last night had shaken not only her but also Ryan.

“Her picture was on the news. She looks familiar; I think I’ve seen her.”

“Coronado is a small place. I would be surprised if you hadn’t seen her around.”

“I wish we knew what happened, why she died.”

Kelly heard the tension in Ryan’s voice and understood it. “So do I.” From the morning newscast, Kelly now knew the lady’s name: Iris Wells. She had lived in an apartment complex at the south end of the strand. The police were not offering any details of what had happened. That puzzled Kelly. If it had been an accident, the details would be made available by now.

“We almost died the same way she did.”

“Yes.” It was hard to be the adult, to sound matter-of-fact about it when she felt that same lingering fear.

“The kids at church were asking about what it was like to almost die.”

Kelly was surprised at that until she thought about it. She hadn’t faced those questions, but only because adults would hesitate to ask. “What did you tell them?”

“Not much.”

“I was scared,” she offered.
Terrified
was a better word, but
scared
worked.

“Me too.”

She didn’t know Ryan well enough to read what he wasn’t saying, but she guessed it was probably what he most wanted to talk about. “Were you worried about what would happen if you died? Do you really, in your heart, know Jesus? Or are you going to church because of your dad?”

“I accepted the Lord as my Savior and was baptized when I was ten. It’s not the question of heaven or where I would spend eternity.” Ryan glanced at her. “What it made me wish is that I knew Jesus better. Does that make sense?”

The maturity in Ryan impressed her. “I made that same decision,” she replied quietly.

“Really?”

“I call it my quest.”

“I need to do something like that. I felt . . . I don’t know, kind of hollow. That up until now my faith had all been a game. It suddenly became very serious.”

“There’s a wilderness camp being planned by my church youth group next week. You ought to think about going along.”

“Do you think so?”

“I seem to remember that trying to climb a sheer rock face got me pretty close to Jesus,” Kelly pointed out.

“That sounds perfect. I’ll ask my dad.” Ryan hesitated for a moment. “Dad was really shaken up by what happened, the lady who drowned. I’ve never seen him like he was this morning when he saw the news.”

Kelly wrapped her arm around him and gave him a hug—the boy was about as tall as she was. “He’s your father; that’s to be expected. He nearly had that happen to you.” Ryan was embarrassed at the attention but also looked pleased. “Enough serious stuff. Let’s talk about you. Do you have plans for the summer?”

“Not many. Dad wants us to travel some—probably to London, Paris, and maybe a visit back to Hong Kong.”

“That will be fun.”

Ryan shrugged. “I’ve seen those places before.”

They had entered the stretch of beach where the volleyball nets were set up. There were two games going on. Kelly noticed the glances being sent their way by some of the high school girls. She wondered if Ryan had a girlfriend yet. There would be several girls asking her later to make introductions.

Ryan was noticing it too and looked a little embarrassed. “You have a crowded beach.”

Kelly nodded. “I like it this way. Listen, your dad said you might be interested in some surfing pointers. Want to come hang out on my beach tomorrow? It’s supposed to be a calm day. I’m working, but I’ll be free at lunch and on breaks.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“You’re a local celebrity around here. You need to get back on a surfboard soon, and I like to teach.”

“You’re on. Thanks.”

Kelly was aware of the whispers now going on among the spectators of the volleyball games. “If you don’t mind me asking, do you have a girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Would you like a few introductions?”

Ryan glanced at her. “Maybe.”

“I know someone you would really like. Her name is Lynnette. Two
n
’s, two
t
’s, and if you’re really sweet, I bet she’ll ask for your autograph.”

Ryan’s face turned red, and his voice slid up part of an octave. “You’re serious?”

“She asked me for mine this morning.” Kelly was enjoying this immensely. Ryan was a good kid, and she would like to see him go out with Lynnette. He struck Kelly as a little lonely, having been dropped back into the States after so long overseas. “Come on, I’ll introduce you as my surfing buddy.”

Eighteen

* * *

“Bear, your problem is you haven’t been running in those boots long enough to get them broken in.”

“Boomer, just pass me the ice.” He’d run eight miles on the sprained ankle today, and he didn’t need his AOIC’s humor. They had a sweat now or bleed later attitude toward training in the SEALs, and the last seven hours out at Chocolate Mountain had been intense. He was glad to be back at the base.

Joe probed his swollen ankle, rotating it, ignoring the pain the movement caused. The muscles were tightening as he sat and the ankle was stiffening.

If it had been one of his men who went out on a dangerous training mission with less than four hours of sleep and his mind not fully focused on the task, Joe would have ripped a strip off his hide and seriously considered yanking him from the roster for lack of judgment. He had already given himself the verbal dressing down; the question now was what else he was going to do to rectify the situation. It could never be allowed to happen again. He had let a situation in his personal life be a distraction at work. It wasn’t just bad form; it was what got SEALs killed.

The lack of sleep had been unavoidable. There was no way he could have left Kelly rather than stay and talk until she was over the shock. But today, losing his concentration during the op as he wondered how Kelly was doing—he was lucky it had cost him only a sprained ankle and not a broken one. Only a first-jump rookie took his concentration off the landing site during a parachute jump, and Joe had been jumping with a full load in the dark. He had managed to land on rocks. Joe scowled as he wrapped the ice in place with a bandanna. He had spent the rest of the day paying for that mistake.

“You were the one who decided the extraction helicopter was grounded due to mechanical problems,” Boomer reminded him.

“Don’t laugh too hard; next time the sprain might be yours,” Bear growled back.

The training mission had gone well otherwise, re-creating a hostage rescue mission the Israelis had executed a year before.

After the low altitude jump into the target area, Cougar had done a good job of leading them through the rugged terrain in the dark. The assault at the close quarters battle house, rescuing a hostage affectionately known as Elma, had taken five minutes too long to execute in the first pass. The second pass had gone better.

Joe had decided just before they left the base that on this mission their extraction helicopter was going to be grounded by mechanical failure and they would have to get out of the hostile area by their alternate route. Hence the last long hike on a sprained ankle to end the day.

Working, he could ignore the pain. Now his ankle was barking. He reached for his soda and two ibuprofen. “The guys are improving.”

“Not only the mission, but they handled that curve you threw them without complaint,” Boomer agreed.

Joe grunted. “What they did was set out to run me into the ground, and you know it.”

Boomer laughed. “I noticed you didn’t let them.”

The squad medic, a young guy from Kansas, who shouldn’t even have been able to swim let alone practically run his L-T into the ground, had just about done it. Joe had ignored the glances among the men when the pace picked up and simply let them try. Authority came from more than words. The entire platoon had been struggling for wind by the time they reached the alternate recovery site. The old-timers had looked at him and just grinned while the newbies had shaken their heads, not sure how he had done it.

It felt good. Very good. At least the sprain had been worth something.

The day he couldn’t answer a challenge like that was the day he needed to consider letting a younger man have his job. At thirty-eight his body was not as forgiving as it had been at twenty-eight. He smiled. It was one of the best treks his men had made under full gear this year. It was good to be back on short notice. There had been an extra sharpness to their assault.

“Anything on the board I need to know about?”

“It was a quiet night around the world, no new hot spots.”

“Good. Let’s hope it stays that way. What time is the debriefing?”

Boomer glanced at his watch. “Twenty minutes. Did you hear they identified the lady who drowned?”

“Oh? Who?”

“Iris Wells, civilian, but she’s one of ours. She worked in the personnel department.”

The news was a shock. While a large percentage of people in Coronado and San Diego worked for the Navy, most of the civilians were with Naval Air Station North Island, not here at NAB. “Who’s on it from Naval security?”

“I heard they assigned two investigators, but I didn’t get names. Was there any indication of foul play?”

Last night he would have said no, but now? “There was nothing obvious, but I hope these guys are thorough.”

“You’ll probably see them soon, as you two found the body.”

“They had better go easy on Kelly. She doesn’t need another round of this. Last night was tough on her.”

“Tough on you as well.”

Bear glanced over at Boomer and nodded. “That could have been Kelly’s body washing ashore.”

* * *

“You’re going to spoil me,” Joe accepted the coffee refill and one of the still-warm chocolate chip cookies Kelly offered and leaned his head back against the lounge chair as she settled into the seat beside him. She had taken one good look at him when he arrived, pointed him to the chair, and had not let him help with dinner.

“You deserve it.” Misha was staying in step with her, hoping to mooch part of her cookie. “Are you eventually going to tell me anything about today? Like how badly you’re hurt?” There was a gentle scold in her voice.

He smiled. “I’m not hurt.”

“Joe—”

He shrugged. “A sprained ankle hardly counts. It was a long day out at Chocolate Mountain.”

“Was anybody else injured?”

“No. But there are a few who will be doubling up on the daily runs so they don’t get embarrassed again.”

“I’ve seen that wolfish smile in the past. How much ground did you cover?”

Joe thought about those miles and still felt every one of them. “Far enough that they got the point. You’ll see them on the beach kicking up that loose sand.”

“The SEAL groupies will thank you for that.”

Joe laughed. “Hey, I aim to please. That was my day. How was yours?”

“Shopping, housework. I found paint and wallpaper for the kitchen.” She’d kept herself busy; he was grateful for that.

Joe sipped his coffee, aware of the subtle change—Kelly had bought his favorite brand. She was studying him, adapting, like he had seen her do with Nick. He wasn’t sure yet what he thought about the change in how she was approaching him. He felt an equal amount of unease and appreciation.

“Could I go running with you tomorrow morning?”

Even knowing what she was doing, he was surprised at the request. “Sure, if you’d like to. I hit the beach at 0530.”

“Run this way and pick me up. I only plan to do a couple miles.”

“Not going back into training?”

“Once in my lifetime was plenty.”

She had once braved entering the ten-mile Bay Bridge run. He and Nick had taken it as a personal challenge to get her ready for it. “I rather enjoyed being your training coach.” He remembered those days with great fondness. She looked great in shorts and sweat.

“You and Nick ran me into the ground.”

“I’ll go easy on you tomorrow,” Joe promised, already looking forward to her company. He knew Kelly preferred to swim competitively rather than run. She had taken up running because it let her join Nick of a morning. He had always admired that, the deliberate focus she had on her husband, the way she put her energy into her marriage.

Now Kelly was dating him. Joe was beginning to realize exactly what that meant. He hadn’t fully appreciated the difference that would happen.