Caught in the Net
Authors: Breanna Hayse
Tags: #paranormal, #domestic discipline, #contemporary romance, #spanking
Caught in
the Net
The
General's Daughter Book 3
By
Breanna
Hayse
©2014 by Blushing Books® and Breanna
Hayse
All
rights reserved.
No part
of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,
electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any
information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from
the publisher.
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by Blushing Books®,
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is
registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.
Hayse, Breanna
Caught in the Net
eBook ISBN:
978-1-62750-1811
Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson
This book is intended for
adults
only
. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are
fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted
as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking
activity or the spanking of minors.
Table of Contents:
The Quimby family returned home late one evening,
after a long, leisurely meal, and was bombarded by the loud ringing of the
house phone.
“General Jenkins, may I help you?” Scott answered. He
started to frown, beckoning to the others. “Yes, enter the coordinates in the
transmitter and they’ll be there shortly. Yes, I understand. Yes, I have the
dive officer here as well and will inform him. Bye.”
“What’s going on?” Dr. Quimby asked, eyeing his
children as Scott opened his laptop.
“Go get your suits on, kids; you’ve got some work to
do. Vessel gunned down off the Baja coast. Took two men hostage and was last
seen heading into deep water. Sorry, no sleep for you tonight. You know what
we need to do.”
“Rescue and capture. Gotcha,” Michael said, suppressing
an excited grin as he raced up to his room with his sister. It had been a long
time since the two young lieutenants had been sent out on a mission. They were
down in minutes, adjusting the suits and headgear. Finally! This was what
they were trained for.
“The coordinates are in your transmitter. Keep in
touch with us,” Scott ordered with a concerned expression.
After a quick goodbye, the two raced down to the dock
and dove into the black water. They were met shortly by the young orca, which
safely transported the Special Forces team to deep water and away from
obstacles. With Ton's help, they started ranging the cetacean populations to
assist with locating the vessel. Three hours later, they had visual; however,
there were no cetaceans in sight. Even Ton disappeared a few miles back, an
event Michael immediately noted as odd. Sensing nothing unusual from his
sister, he remained silent and kept his eyes peeled. Something was not right
and his instincts sent warning flags to keep alert.
Quietly, the two came up under a 17 foot cruiser with
double engines and small dive platform. They edged along the sides, listening
for voices. When nothing was heard, the two silently pulled themselves onto
the vessel from opposite sides. One man stood guard with his back to the bow
and was completely unaware as Michael snuck up behind him like a jungle cat,
rendering him unconscious with a single blow to the back of the neck with his
elbow. After dragging the body to the side, Michael nodded instructions for
Samantha to slip below deck.
She found the two hostages tied together on a bunk and
gently woke them, placing her fingers over their mouths to keep them silent.
After slicing the rope with her knife, she gestured for them to follow and
started up the ladder. The hard barrel of a rifle slammed into the center of
her chest.
“So, what do we have here? Some beautiful mermaid
washed upon my ship to pleasure me?” the man asked in Spanish, running the tip
of his weapon to trace the outline of her breast.
“The only pleasure you will have is going to sleep,” Michael
answered back in Spanish, throwing his elbow into the base of the man’s neck
and stepping out of the way as the assailant collapsed limply to the deck.
“You really like that elbow thing, partner. Thanks.” Sam
helped the captives out of the hatch.
“No prob. How many others are there?” Michael asked
the men.
“Four when we started, but we’ve only seen these two.
Who are you?”
“Introductions later. Let’s get off this ship. I’m
not comfortable being here. Something seems wrong.” Michael shoved them towards
the stern of the vessel while looking over his shoulder for his sister. She
was right behind him, grabbing life preservers from the cabin.
“We can’t jump in the middle of the ocean! How would we
ever get to shore?”
“If the lieutenant says something is wrong, we
listen. Now, get the hell off this boat!” Sam said, urging them towards the
platform and pointing to the water as she tossed the rings in. “Go! NOW!
Mike?”
“Just putting a tracer for pickup. Okay, clear out.”
They dove over the side and, after securing their charges
in the flotation devices, used their propulsion boots to quickly place some
distance between them and the boat. Michael slowed their course once they were
about a mile from the boat and paused to check on the condition of the
victims. Mid-sentence, the sound of an explosion reached their ears and a
plume of orange flames jumped up from the black waters.
“Holy shit,” one of the men muttered.
Sam looked towards her brother, unable to see his
expression under the dark overcast sky. She felt his hand find hers and
squeeze it gently. “I’m so glad we listened to you,” she whispered. “How did
you know?”
“Why leave two people to guard two hostages and head
out to open sea? This is the maritime version of guerrilla warfare. Don’t you
remember Scott teaching us military history?”
“It was one of those subjects I tuned out. Maybe next
time I better pay more attention. One more thing for Scott to rub in our faces.”
She forced a laugh.
“Let him rub. That story just saved our lives. How
are they doing?”
“We need to get these men out of the water; they are
getting too cold. And they are scared to death.”
“I’ve already transmitted for air support, so a helo
should be on its way. Are you okay?”
“Tired, but fine. It would have been nice, though, if
you would have let me knock out one of those jerks. You always get all the fun,”
she teased, sensing his return smile. Sam then swam over to the floating men.
“Are you guys all right? I know it’s cold. We are hoping that the rescue
copter will be here shortly. I can get you out of the water if you like, it
might be more comfortable.”
“How can you do that? There’s no land in sight,” one
of the men asked, his teeth chattering. “And what about sharks?”
“You need to trust me. Don’t panic, everything is fine.
My other partner is coming to help us. I’m Lt. Samantha Quimby and this is
Michael, my brother. We're Special Forces. Now, keep calm,” she ordered
softly as Ton approached them, his rigid straight dorsal fin slicing the water
with deadly grace. He circled the four, pressing his pectoral fin against the
newcomers. Images of fish and seals swimming away from a hunt touched her
mind. The men were terrified.
“I promise, you are safe. He’s going to come under
you to lift you up. I want you to grab his dorsal fin and pull yourself onto
his back.”
“It’s a fucking killer whale!”
Michael braced himself between them. “Just get on
the darn thing before you die of hypothermia. And please remember there is a
lady present,” he ordered firmly, snapping them out of their panic.
They muttered “yes, sir” and gasped as the whale
surged from below and raised them out of the water. A pair of porpoise joined
the team, allowing the two Quimbys to hold their dorsals as they swam behind
the orca. Michael called a halt as the sound of the oncoming helicopter roared
towards them.
After hauling the two men up into the hold, the
crewmen helped the team inside and handed everyone warm blankets and coffee. Corpsmen
checked the condition of the rescued hostages.
“A lady present?” Sam questioned, yawning as she
leaned against her brother. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, squeezing
her tightly as he nodded. “You're funny when you get bossy, you know.”
“I'm just grateful you're safe. Try to grab some
shut-eye.”
“Not tired.” She yawned again, snuggling closer for
warmth.
The sun was in full bloom by the time Michael and Sam
finished escorting their charges to the hospital and completing their reports.
They opted to fly back with the helo and disembarked in the open water near
their home. They dragged themselves onto the beach, cold, wet and tired, and
headed straight for the Jacuzzi, leaving their wetsuits and gear in their wake.
“Man, this feels good. I'm beat,” Michael said,
sinking chin deep into the hot water.
“Mmm... you must be tired. I can’t ever remember
seeing you leave anything on the floor for any reason.”
“Be nice. I guess the folks left for work already.”
“That's obvious, Sherlock. You don't see them hanging
all over us, do you? Did you call them to tell them we were on our way home
after report?”
“Not yet. You know it means the third degree and I am
so not in the mood,” Michael sighed, dialing HQ via transmitter.
“Jenkins. Are you all right? How's Sam? What
happened?”
“Hey, Scott. Everything's fine. We’re just tired.” Michael
forced his voice to sound patient, hoping his uncle would catch the hint.
“Fine? Damn it, Mike, I got the report from the guard
commander. I hear you had a close call.”
“It wasn't that bad. Our timing was good.” Michael
rolled his eyes as he mimed for his sister, making a gesture as though he were
hanging himself. “Please stop worrying so much. We had some subtle warning
from the cetaceans, which helped us. I would like some help processing a few
tests using live weaponry and the pod's ability to sense it.”
“What?” his sister yelled, rising out of the water.
Michael held up his hand for her silence. “I’ll
explain later, Scott. I'm too tired to think right now. We need to catch some
sleep, and then we’ll be in. I’ll see you around 1400.” After saying his goodbyes,
he turned to his fuming sister. “Now, kiddo, hear me out before you blow a gasket.
You trust me, right?”
“How could you even think of putting the pod in
danger?”
“I will put the pod in danger before I put you in
danger. However, you need to be quiet and listen. I need to know if they have
a way to detect a live bomb and if they are able to tell when it might go off.
Ah ah, no interruptions; let me finish. I know they don’t have the concept of
time like we do, but they are able to determine when a cow is going to calf,
almost to the minute. They know when the migrations are to start, despite
fluctuations in water temperature or saline levels.”
“I can’t support this. I will make certain that they
know what you are doing and to stay away.”
“Then you cannot be on this team,” Michael said,
leveling his eyes on her.
Her mouth fell open in shock. “You don’t mean that!”
“I mean every word. Now get upstairs and grab some
sleep. We’ll talk about this more when we have had some rest and can discuss
this more rationally. You did a good job last night, by the way. Thank you.”
“I ALWAYS do a good job and your noticing it is not
going to change my mind! I don’t want to hear it. Good night,” she stomped
away.
Michael chuckled, towel drying off before heading
upstairs.
No reason to push it now, she’ll understand after taking some
time to think it through.
He hoped.
* * * * *
Michael glanced at his sister as she sat next to him
in his Jag on the way to work. She was sunk down in the seat with her arms
crossed and a huge scowl on her face. He shook his head, turning on the
radio. He’d barely parked, when she stormed out of the car and headed straight
to the lab. She ignored the greetings as she flew by, slamming the door to her
office and dropping the blinds. Michael entered shortly afterwards, answering
the brief questions from his crew about the night before.
Frank handed him a cup of coffee. “Looks like you
could use this, Mike. What’s going on with the Siren?”
“Temper tantrum, like always. She’s pissed at me.”
“What did you do?”
“What makes you think I did anything? Gee... you know,
some support from you gentlemen would be greatly appreciated now and then.”
“Yes, but you don't scare the shit out of us,” Frank
grinned.
“For crying out loud, she's a shrimp! She barely
reaches your armpits.”
“But she's a cute shrimp... with sharp pinchers. You
know we can't take sides against her.”
“Amazing. One day I will find out how she manages to
elicit such loyalty,” Michael grunted, eyeing the rest of the crew who were pretending
to be working. “I bite too, you know.”
“Yes, sir. But you don't look as good in a bikini,” Nick
stated from across the room.
“I see where this is going. Anyway, thanks for the
coffee. Don’t let Scott taste it; he’ll dump it in the toilet. We really need
to discover her secret to making this shit palatable. Yet another of her
skills.” Michael grinned. He tapped on the door to his sister’s office and
waited. No answer. He tried the door and found it locked. He glanced again
at her crew; Frank and Nick both shrugged before turning away.
Michael settled into his desk chair to start running
his report on a grid. He glanced at the wall where the two offices shared a
window, seeing his sister glowering into her computer. She had locked their
adjoining door to prevent his entry and still looked tired and very cranky.
Chuckling, he quickly finished his report and jotted a note on a piece of
paper. He held it against the window and tapped on the glass. She looked over
and made a face.
