SEAL My Home: Bad Boys of SEAL Team 3, Book 2 (SEAL Brotherhood Series 9) (21 page)

People were fidgeting in their seats. Rory knew they were as nervous as he was.

“We’re asking you to step away for a few days to give the locals and our Fed partners a chance to do some cleanup. This guy we’re after is named Tariq Hanna. He’s from a well-respected family in Syria. Our State Department contacts say he has been a successful businessman for nearly thirty years, doing business with many of the families in the Arab kingdoms.”

Forsythe posted a picture of the handsome Tariq in a business suit on the magnetized white board.

“We believe his family was being held hostage by a militant group, and for the past year, he has been helping them to pinpoint certain wealthy Americans the group could kidnap and hold for ransom monies. He’s also delivered funds to local militia training camps here in the U.S. We know of approximately twenty five such camps currently operating right here in the U.S. of A.”

More whistles and a couple of the audience swore.

“They have apparently promised him they will release his mother and sister and his two young nephews if he cooperates.”

“So our rescue messes up his plan,” Rory barked.

“They got five million dollars out of Corrigan first before the rescue.”

Several in the room whistled. Rory was livid Corrigan had given away that much money to fund a camp that would kill his fellow brothers. He did not like the briefing.

“But no doubt they were going to milk him for much more.”

Kyle started in low and slow, indicating he had some very dark thoughts. “Wait a minute, you said
was
, as in, they
were
held hostage and now are released?”

“No. We got credible intel they are on an execution list. All of them. Some kind of a power struggle, which goes on all the time over there. And we’re not sure how much time Tariq has. He may become desperate, especially when his enemies find he let Corrigan get away.”

“So where does this leave us?” Kyle asked.

“We’re fighting over there. But this is coming here, just like the last little cell we got rid of,” said Collins.

“You think these guys are funded by the same group?” T.J. asked.

Forsythe answered, “We think so, T.J. Since they’re in the San Diego area, I’m going to guess yes. Same group. We think they have individual marching orders. It’s a loose operation, but very well-funded, and very deadly. And they’re recruiting young students every day.”

“Why don’t we stop them? If we fuckin’ know where they train, and we know what they’re up to?” Fredo asked.

“I’m afraid that’s above my pay grade. I think there are still those who feel they can work with some of these groups. It was originally thought they might be armed groups we could train to send back to become freedom fighters.”

The air was thick with swearing. Rory’s hip began to pulse, a shooting pain coursing down his thigh. It felt like he’d popped a blood vessel in his leg.

“And I’m afraid that operation was a disaster. These people have turned on us, the country that gave them safe haven. Look, there’s not an easy solution. We’re going to be dealing with these groups for a long time. Most of them have student visas or they are foreign nationals traveling on an approved visa. We don’t have nearly enough names to put them all on a watch list. I’m afraid we’re playing catch up. And they’re
way
ahead of us.”

“So, what’s the plan, then?” Kyle asked.

Collins spoke up. “Kyle, we originally thought it would be good to send you guys off for a week, maybe two. That’s the way we usually schedule things, as you know. Now we don’t think we can spare you guys longer than a few days, and there’s something else.”

Rory knew this caught everyone’s attention. He didn’t want to bring it up, but he had to. “Sir, you know I’m just ten days post-op. I’m sure my doc wouldn’t clear me for a jump.”

“No jumps. We roll in.”

Rory was relieved, but he still hated to leave Megan alone.

“Here’s the thing, fellas. We need you back here to protect your families in case the Feds aren’t able to sweep these guys up. We want you to tell your families, on a limited basis, what’s going on.”

“Sir?” Kyle now stood. “Most of us have already told our families. They always gotta know. I told my guys to tell their wives and significant others. Not the details, of course, but to be careful and such.”

Rory thought of the way he’d left Megan in the bed just an hour ago. Disheveled, waiting for him, sleepy and drunk in love, just the way he wanted to see her every day. He forced himself to think about the situation they were facing. Was it wrong to visualize running back and slipping into her bed again?

“This time I want you to tell them some of the details, which are that we are searching for a mastermind and his minions who are targeting local military families. We have new evidence that the Lt. Commander’s daughter was lured by a Middle Eastern lad she met online. We think he was part of this cell. She should have known better. We don’t want that to happen to one of your loved ones. We’re keeping it out of the press for now.”

Rory had a question. “Sir, what about the rescue? What’s being released?”

“Well, nothing so far. The Saudis didn’t want anything in the press about their warehouse being used as a hostage facility, but all that’s a State Department nightmare and certainly nothing anyone wants leaked. So far, there isn’t anything public and we want it to stay that way. But Rory, you gotta be extra careful. It won’t stay a secret forever.”

Forsythe agreed. “That’s right. Hospital staff, people Corrigan talked to. Lucky for us we know who we’re looking for, although I doubt he’ll show his face, but I have a picture I got clearance for all of you to have. Show it to the ladies, and your parents. Tell them to be more vigilant than they ever have been.”

“Maybe they shouldn’t be alone while we’re gone. I think they should stay together,” Cooper added. Several agreed.

“If it can be done quietly. We don’t want to draw any attention.”

“Kids will be out of school—”

“Snow trip, something, but they are not to discuss it with anyone but themselves.” Forsythe put his hands on his hips. “Coop, I think that’s an excellent idea. You guys have any place they can go?”

“My in-laws. They have more alarms than Fort Knox,” Coop said. His father-in-law had set up a sophisticated alarm system after a deranged father of one of Dr. Brownlee’s patients had abducted his daughter, Libby.

It was agreed.

“I want you all back here in four hours. We take off at oh-seven-hundred. Got it?” Collins said without a smile. The room began to disperse. Forsythe walked up to Rory.

“Just a minute, son. I have something to show you.”

Kyle turned and Rory motioned him over. Forsythe put Rory’s Mac on the side briefing table under the large map of San Diego and it’s waterways, with a plethora of pins and flags covering it, showing maneuvers and locations of Naval vessels and some commercial cruise lines nearby.

Opening up the screen, Forsythe typed in Rory’s passcode and they waited while his Gmail account opened. There were numerous communications from Raymond Corrigan’s computer, starting with the night the Proof of Life picture was sent. Forsythe clicked on the most recent one.

‘Mr. Kennedy,

You are delusional to think I will let this act go unpunished. You can tell Mr. Corrigan he is still a target and the money he has made from the kingdoms is steeped in blood. Now, more so than before. Some time, some day, he will be punished, as will you. He will die watching your head roll.’

“Holy fuck,” Rory said. Kyle patted him on the back.

“You sure you don’t remember seeing this guy anywhere?” Forsythe said.

“No.”

“Rory, everyone you know is in danger. Everyone. You got any other relatives? Because they have to be told.”

“Are you going to tell
him
?”

“We did last night when we interviewed him. That’s how we got Tariq’s name and picture. Corrigan said this guy did background information on his clients, and was expert at it. And he has a lot of money, plus access to some of Corrigan’s enemies. They apparently are continuing to attempt to drain his bank accounts, but the Feds have managed to block the transfers. I think Tariq’s desperate, and if anything happens to his family, it will be worse.”

“What do you suggest?”

“I hate to send you away, but since you have no one, I think it’s safest for you. Not that they won’t find another opportune target. Unfortunately, he’s a wounded bear.”

“You gotta tell them about Megan.” Kyle said, placing his palm at the back of Rory’s shoulders.

“I have a girl.”

“She live with you, son?”

“No. She lives alone.”

“So we’ll step up patrols. Write her address here. And you know where she works?” Collins handed him a yellow lined tablet.

“We’re getting great cooperation from the San Diego police, who want to help, but they aren’t supposed to mess with any of this terrorist stuff, so the Feds are running things, with SDPD as secondary.” added Forsythe.

“Maybe she should go with the wives?” Rory whispered.

Collins and Forsythe exchanged a look Rory didn’t like.

“Let’s assume they don’t know about her for now. We’ll keep her under tight surveillance, but you can’t tell her. You can tell her about the extra patrols, but I don’t want her looking for people covering her. You go with the team. I’ll monitor the computer.”

“Can I send him a message?” Rory knew exactly what he wanted to say.

“What?” Collins asked.

“I’d like to say
‘fuck the prophet.’

“We don’t play that way, son, even though the enemy does. I’m okay with a message, letting him think he’s got your attention, which he certainly has.” Forsythe was efficient, studied everything and Rory knew he didn’t trust anyone. He liked having a guy like that on his side of the fence.

“How about,
‘Got your message. You’ll be hearing from my friends soon.’?”

Collins looked up to Forsythe, who nodded. “Go ahead.”

The message was delivered. After Rory hit send, he hesitated, wondering if it was the right thing to do. He watched as Forsythe closed the lid and tucked the computer under his arm.

Rory and Kyle started to leave.

“Son?” Forsythe’s voice boomed at their back.

“Yeah?”

“Your Chase account is overdrawn. Better fix that before you go.”

“You can thank the Navy for that. They screwed up my automatic deposit. I’ll make the call and get money in there. Thanks.” But Rory was far from grateful. He didn’t like his personal dirty laundry aired in front of his superiors.

Kyle chuckled and Rory pushed him nearly over.

“Don’t start with me, Rory. I may not cheat like Fredo does, but you know I can take you down.”

“No worries. I still love my job. Even though it sucks some days.”

‡

K
yle got a
text from Cooper before they hit their cars that it was arranged for the families to stay at the Brownlees. The children had played together and Fort Brownlee, with the huge backyard, pool and multiple bedrooms, had been the scene of many weekend parties. The SEALs never had much money, so a little private R&R with the families, not as public as beach outings, was something they all enjoyed and it didn’t strain the pocketbook. Dr. Brownlee, a prominent San Diego psychiatrist, had been treating Vets and several of the SEALs ever since Coop and Libby hooked up. His twin brother had been a SEAL, killed in Grenada before Libby was born. His unusual access to the Teams made him a great ally.

Mrs. Brownlee was in love with all the babies, though only two of them were her own grandchildren.

“That’s handled. Okay, later, Rory. You got your job cut out for you.”

“Gotta ask your advice, Kyle.”

“Yup?”

“If I go over there, I’m liable to spend half the time in bed.” It felt good to smile to his LPO, in spite of the danger they were all facing.

“Country first, then family, then God. Your equipment ready to go?”

“Yeah, my equipment’s just fine.”

“I’ll bet it is. Just be careful on that hip, Rory. No shit. I don’t want to have to recommend you be washed. You don’t want that, son.”

“Don’t I know it? What if I let her stay on top, sort of relieve the tension?”

“That all depends,” Kyle said with a smirk.

“On what?”

“Is she three hundred pounds?”

‡