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Second Chance SEAL(176)

By:B. B. Hamel


Until I held that baby and fed him at least. And then I was beginning to question absolutely everything.

It was getting late as we sped down the highway. I hadn’t seen Travis in about an hour, but that meant he was just scanning along in front or behind us. I wished I had a less conspicuous car, but I had to admit that I loved the speed and the power at my disposal.

I checked the clock. “How about a rest stop?” I said to Tara.

She looked up at me, almost surprised that I had spoken. “Uh, sure. I thought we were driving straight there?”

“I need to make a call. We’re close.”

“Fine. Whatever you need.”

I kept my eyes on the road. “I know this is hard. Just trust me.”

“I keep saying that I do.”

“I know what you say, but I really only care about what you do.”

“And what am I doing wrong?”

“Nothing. Yet. Sooner or later, though, you’re going to want to disobey something. Resist that temptation.”

“I’m sorry, but is this the part of the night where you’re an asshole for no reason?”

I grinned at her. “Everything I do has a reason.”

“I doubt that.”

“Why?”

“What about earlier then? Was there reason behind that?”

“Sure. I wanted your fucking nice little pussy, so I took it.”

She made a face. “You didn’t take anything.”

“You’re right. I gave you what you wanted, too.”

“Now you’re just lying.”

Suddenly, going around eighty miles an hour, I pulled off the highway and headed down to a rest stop off-ramp. The ramp was designed for cars going much slower, and so we were pulling pretty fast and hard, tires screeching along the pavement. Tara clutched onto the dash, eyes wide as I took the ramp going way too fast, screaming toward the lot.

“Holy shit!” she said.

I hit the brakes, cutting the speed, and swung easily into the parking lot. She stared at me as I parked, her eyes wide. “What the hell was that for?” she asked.

“If we are being followed, hopefully that threw them off.”

“Warn me next time.”

“And miss that look on your face? No, thanks.”

She shook her head. “Asshole.” She climbed out of the car and checked on Mason, who seemed totally fine.

I watched her head off toward the building. I pulled open the center console and pulled out another burner phone. I flipped it open and dialed a number.

“Blackfire.”

“Sir, it’s Emory.”

“I hear you had some trouble.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. “Three white American nationals, radicalized, part of Omar’s cell I assume. I tried to keep one alive for questioning, but things got out of hand.”

“They tend to with civilians around.”

“Sir, we’re currently headed toward the safe house in Indianapolis.”

“Good. Keep me informed.”

“One more thing, sir. Permission to speak freely?”

He laughed. “When did that ever stop you?”

“I think something else is going on here,” I said. “I find it hard to believe that Omar would waste three valuable assets like that just to attack me.”

“So do I,” Blackfire said. “There’s a reason he’s in America, but we just don’t know that reason yet.”

“I’d like permission to follow this up,” I said.

“What about the girl and the child?”

I paused. What about them?

“They can be assigned to another team member,” I said slowly.

And they’d probably be better off.

I was just too compromised. I was getting in too deep with Tara, and I wasn’t thinking clearly. I had to distance myself, if not for her sake, then for Mason’s.

It would be best for everyone.

“Permission denied,” Blackfire said.

“Sir, I don’t think I’m the best man for this job.”

“You’re the best man period, Emory,” he said. “You know that as well as I do.”

“I’m too close to this.”

“Even better. You’re on American soil, soldier. You’re not in Pakistan or in the jungle. You can’t think like a normal SEAL right now. You need to be smarter.”

“How does being too close to this help?”

“It means you’re going to think before you react. Son, you and your men are all highly trained fucking killing machines. You usually don’t think; you just react according to how we’ve shaped you. But in this situation, I need your head on your shoulders. Do you understand?”

I paused, not answering at first. That made sense, to a degree. He was right that we typically reacted to situations based on what our training dictated. In almost every situation I’d ever been in, my training had been absolutely correct.