SEAL Under Covers (SEAL Brotherhood Series Book 3) (17 page)

He smiled back at his best friend and BUD/S swim buddy. If it weren’t for the fact that Armando had a minor infraction stemming from a bar fight, he’d be the same rank and have his own platoon, but he preferred being Kyle’s second enlisted any day of the week. That fight had cost him almost $150 a month in pay, but it had been worth it at the time.

“I’m good. A little stir crazy.”

“Me too. But hey, we got about half a mil worth of ammo to go expend the next few days. We got more to use this week in training than whole platoons use overseas in a year.”

“Well, that’s the point, isn’t it? Use it in training so you don’t have to later on?”

“Yup. Being prepared definitely keeps you alive,” Kyle agreed.

“Also makes you a great lover,” Marky Mark added as he winked.

Several laughed. Armando thought about being in training with Gina, and damn, it was getting hot in there. He definitely was obsessing about her soft flesh and that pouty mouth that tasted so sweet as she shattered under him. Seeing her climax was going to be the highlight of his day when he got back. Every day.

What the hell am I saying?

“Fuck it,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Yeah?” Kyle had picked up on it. “You sleeping these nights?”

He knew Kyle was fishing for signs of PTSD. Lord knew they’d seen more than their fair share of screwed-up operations and things gone wrong. Team guys killed.

“I’m thinking about one little lady who’s gonna make sleep a luxury,” he whispered back to Kyle.

“Roger that.” Kyle patted him on the shoulder. “About time, Armani.”

“Nope. Not quite that far. But I’m having fun.”

“Love ‘em and leave ‘em, until one snags you and you have no choice. And then you say,
yes, dear.
”
Several others overheard the conversation and had joined in the refrain.

They ran exercises in the dusty sand of the high desert, shooting and blowing things up. They used hand-held drones like one of Cooper’s to coordinate positions and identify targets. Armando found shooting the new .50 caliber M2, Ma Deuce, which mounted like a gargoyle on the back of a jeep going at sixty miles an hour, the most challenging. He familiarized himself with the quick-change barrel system and what to do in case of a jam, which they said would never happen.

A couple of manufacturer’s reps were on standby to instruct them during the week. Because of Leopold’s Mormon faith, his nickname was Moron, but that had nothing to do with anything that would describe the big kid. His girlfriend was going to meet him in Vegas after their training, and he planned to propose to her. He’d been practicing his proposal over and over again. If it didn’t work, at least they’d have a very romantic weekend at Caesar’s.

On Friday, after a hard week of long dusty days in the high desert, they were rushing to get all the equipment off the trucks so they could make their plane and touch down in San Diego while there was still part of an evening left to waste. The Browning was a heavy sucker, and the barrel was still hot from all the rounds they’d rammed through it. Someone pulled the lever on the stabilizing arm and the sucker dropped straight down on top of Moron’s forehead. It knocked him clean out.

Cooper worked on Leopold furiously, making sure he regained consciousness quickly. The hole in the middle of his forehead was partly singed from the hot steel of the barrel. There was no question it was going to leave a ring, and would need stitches.

“Fuck!” Leopold screamed as he came to.

“Guess we don’t have to worry about whether or not he’s all right,” someone said.

“It coulda knocked some sense into him,” Fredo added.

Blood was streaming down the cut, covering his lips and teeth. He sputtered and coughed, in between his invectives toward the heavens and anyone else who stood around to watch.

“You gotta hold still or I’m not going to be able to patch this up,” Cooper said calmly.

“Fuck!” Moron shouted again so loud it reverberated across the desert. He was trying to stand, but Coop outweighed him. He was the only SEAL who did. Coop finally sat on the big kid so hard it nearly knocked his breath out. The two skinny advisors looked worried but said nothing.

Kyle made an announcement. “So you see? That’s what happens when we rush things. This is what gets you killed, gents. You pay attention. Who pulled that pin?”

A short wrestler-type build of a man, a recruit from Latvia named Dimitri stepped forward. “I am sorry, sir. I didn’t see him there.”

Kyle grunted, but Armando knew he wouldn’t write it up unless the guy hadn’t confessed. “We can die by enemy fire, or we can die by friendly fire. Or a training accident. We use this to remind ourselves to be careful. Being careful is what keeps you alive. Some days it is the only reason you stay alive. Don’t assume anything.”

Cooper had begun trying to stick butterflies over Moron’s bleeder. He finally had to resort to a gauze pad and a wad of athletic tape wound around the kid’s head several times to get the bleeding to stop.

“You’re gonna have to go to the hospital back in San Diego, Leo.”

“Fuck that. I’m meeting my girl here at Caesar’s Palace.”

“I can’t stay. You gotta be seen by someone.”

“Just stitch me up. Go ahead.”

“I got nothing to deaden the skin.”

“I don’t fuckin care. Just stitch me up so my girl doesn’t have a heart attack when she sees all the blood.”

“You’re gonna have to have her wake you up every hour. You could have a concussion.”

“Shit, he’s not gonna sleep all weekend, are you, Moron?” someone said.

“Maybe not now,” someone else added.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Leopold was still in a hurry.

Cooper looked to Kyle. “Your call.”

“Your ears ringing?” Kyle asked the kid.

“Nope.”

“Would you tell me if they did?”

“Nope. But they’re not ringing. I got a headache, though.”

“I’ll bet.” He turned to Cooper. “Give him something for pain after you do it.”

Cooper nodded.

“Make it hurt. If he passes out, he comes with us,” he added in a whisper.

“Roger that.”

With an audience around them standing in a tight semicircle, Cooper put twelve stitches in Moron’s forehead like he was appliquéing a quilt, and the boy didn’t flinch. True to his word, Cooper made it hurt. But no one would have known until it was all over. Moron got up, looked at himself in the steel mirror and then punched Cooper in the jaw.

“You did good, kid. Now, no alcohol this weekend, hear?” Kyle admonished him.

“Fuck’s up with that, LP? You know I’m a fuckin’ Mormon. The only thing I
can
do is screw.”

Chapter 16

Gina used the week to dive into Mia’s world. They explored other bars some of Mia’s lowlife friends frequented, under the guise of looking for hot dates willing to spend money. But Sam and a couple of the other detail followed them around, seeming to have an uncanny knack for showing up when they least expected it.

Carlos gave them a generous offer to work for him, which was a break for Gina since she got it on audio. He gave a rather lengthy description of how he used girls and youths to send messages, occasionally delivering money. Gina allowed herself to be talked into it, over Mia’s objection. She was pleased Mia was beginning to recognize the dangers of being involved in the wrong crowd. Something had shifted.

Gina met several of his couriers at the palatial home overlooking the ocean in La Jolla on Wednesday. Carlos was on his very best behavior. But she knew from Sam’s snitch that they’d just purchased a warehouse full of military equipment, including some state-of-the art firepower. There was a race for time to find out the location before it could wind up in Mexico.

“I would treat you like a queen, beautiful Gina with the perfect body.”

She let him think she found that attractive. Mia tried to act disinterested, but Gina picked up on her friend’s unease.

Even as she played up to Carlos, it troubled her that his rise to power had been so rapid. Caesar had been imprisoned for less than a year. She knew the Scorpions had probably replaced the SDPD and sheriff’s men caught up in the sting with new members and new officers bought and paid for by the gang. Finding those would be a big coup.

Unlike the slimy man she usually saw at the bars, Carlos’s house was immaculate, completely modern, and stark white except for his collection of Haitian and Cuban paintings, which hung like violent scars on the sun-drenched walls. He had a wine cellar large enough to serve dinner for twelve, and bragged that at the time of purchase two years ago, the wine had been valued at over a half million all by itself. He also made a point of telling her he never took drugs. “My house is as clean as it looks. “Don’t you party?” she asked.

“Nah. Here I relax. I do all my business out of the office or in my car. But when I come home—” he walked around Gina, looking her up and down—  “I like to get with my woman, you get what I’m sayin?”

Gina resisted the urge to cringe. Mia was scowling. She held little Ricardo in her arms as the baby grabbed one of her hoop earrings and practically ripped it off her ear.

On the way home, Mia gave her a bit of her own twisted advice. “You know if you get hooked up with Carlos you’ll never get out?”

“I know what I’m doing.” Gina looked over at the girl she’d actually begun to like. It wasn’t her job to reform Mia. Instead, she was supposed to arrest her when the time came. That would be difficult to do. But if she had to, could she? Knowing what Armando would do?

 “I just don’t understand why you’d go get in close with Carlos, then. What could you possibly seen in him when you got a guy like Sam around? I think you’re loco, Gina.”

If you only knew.

“Tell you the truth, I’d rather get with your brother. I think he’s hot as hell,” Gina said and then immediately regretted it. But it had felt good to say something truthful. Mia shook her head. “Girls are all over him all the time. He’s a royal pain in the ass to me.”

Gina thought a bit before she approached the subject she knew Mia wanted kept secret.

Time to suck it up.
“So what happened, Mia?”

“What do you mean what happened? To Armando?”

“What is that thing you don’t want to talk about, that thing that happened to you?”

Mia shook her head again. “No way. Just keep your mind on yourself. I don’t need any shrinkage.”

That was really funny. “Good one. I like that.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve done that too.”

“Done what?”

“Screwed my shrink.”

They had stopped at the stoplight. Mia turned to her and finally let her have a glimpse of what was going on. “Okay, then. You can’t tell anybody this, right?”

“Scout’s honor,” Gina said.

Mia fixed her with a deadly sneer. “No scouts, either.”

Gina was running out of good guys to reference. “I promise, your secret is safe with me.”

“My mother’s priest molested me when I was thirteen. Confirmation classes and all. My mother has blinders on, just like horses at the races. Wanted me to spend all kinds of time with the creep, and thought I was just being selfish when I didn’t want to go anymore. I knew it was wrong to sit on his lap with no panties on.”

They continued into the intersection.

“God, that’s awful, Mia.”

“Found out he’d been doing it for years. The church knew too. Did not one damned thing about it.”

“Did you tell your mother?”

“Tried to. She’s a brick wall when it comes to the church. She refused to listen.”

“How long did this go on?”

“Nearly a year. I got issues about it, you know. I play around and such, but I don’t like sex very much. It feels dirty.”

“No wonder. You know there are places that can help you with that.”

“Oh yeah. I got that too. The priest sent me to a shrink. That man was also a pervert. I think the two of them was comparin’ notes. He got arrested last year…you remember that big scandal with the doctor and the young girls?”

“I do. I remember when they—” she was going to say
when they brought him in,
but that would have been incredibly dumb, “they had it all over the news. So you were one of those girls?”

“Police did nothing. I was Carlos’s bitch at the time and he was going away. I was pregnant by a gang member. They didn’t want me anywhere near that courtroom. Can you blame them?”

So the system had let Mia down. Her mother had brought them here for a better life, and Mia had fallen into the clutches of a couple of pedophiles.

“You know, Mia, it isn’t your fault. You did nothing wrong.”

“Tell that to my mom.”

“I think she loves you. Armando does too. I think if you stayed close to them, the life you want for you and the baby, well, you could have that life.”

“Says the woman who’s going to run money and drugs for Carlos. You should take your own medicine, Gina.”

You’re so damned right, Mia. Wish I could tell you how it’s going to play out.

“I’m just doing it for the money,” she decided to say. It was her job, and she did need the money to live on.

“That’s prostitution, Gina. You doing those things for money is no different than sucking on a guy’s junk for cash. Only a matter of time.”

If Mia only knew what she and Armando had done. Her face flushed. A smile crept up to her lips as she remembered he’d be home in two days. She couldn’t wait.

“You could!” Mia said. “Shut the fuck up. You could totally do it, couldn’t you? You get off on that kind of stuff, Gina?”

“No. I wasn’t thinking about that.”

“Girl, you are fucked up—”

“No, Mia. You got me wrong.” Gina watched the trees and front porches of Mia’s now-familiar neighborhood. What would it be like some day to have a little place like this, if she could afford it, with a white picket fence and a garden? A couple of kids running in the yard. Taking the dog to the park. Coming home to a man she loved instead of a sterile apartment pre-staged to look like someone really did live there. It was all a stage. She was walking through the life of a person who didn’t exist. Maybe it was time she revealed something about her feelings for Armando. Maybe it would help speed up the process.