Authors: Liz Crowe
Fredo continued. “We do this at least once a week. I do
believe it’s been about that, maybe even two weeks since our last midnight
swim.”
“I don’t like it much in the daytime, or anytime for that
matter,” Jones said. With his dark complexion, all Armando could see was the
LT’s white teeth. “Growing up in Mississippi, I stayed away from watering holes
and such. Good way to get bit by a water snake or get yourself tied to a tree
by some frisky white boys.”
“Frisky white boys?” Fredo asked.
“We’re talking Mississippi. Not many Mexicans there when I
was growing up, not that it would have made much difference. Things are
different now.” Jones took another sip of his beer. No one was going to touch
that comment.
Marky Mark turned to Armando. “Lannie say where we was goin’
next week, Armani?”
“Nope,” he answered. “I asked him, do we take our fins and
trunks, our gloves and parkas, or our cash?”
“Guess we’ll find out the evening before,” Coop concluded.
“Roger that. We’s on a Need. To. Know,” Fredo said.
Cooper crunched down ice from his mineral water. He uncurled
his lanky, six-foot-four body and bowed to the group. “Well, I need to be going
home and get some face time with the wifey. Got a big day tomorrow. Moving into
our new house. I promised Libby I’d be home early to help with the last-minute
packing.”
“Why?” Fredo asked. “You can put everything you got in that
Babemobile in the back of my truck. And everyone here knows you aren’t gonna
get any sleep tonight.”
Armando chuckled.
Fredo shot his heels up into the air. “Oh, Cooper, let me
push against this wall so you can get deep. Oh. Oh. Oh. Ooooooh!” Fredo crooned.
Beale and Jones began rocking in their chairs as if the motorhome Cooper lived
in was rocking under them.
Cooper’s enormous frame cast a long shadow as he came to
tower above the little group. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”
No one heeded his warning.
Cooper tried again. “That sounds like you banging one of
your professionals, Fredo. You listening in for pointers when I’m not paying
attention?”
“Hell no, Coop, we can hear it all the way to Ducky’s. We
sit out there and lick our cones while you’re getting your dick polished off,”
Beale inserted.
“Well said, Marky Mark. You a legend, Coop.” Jones appeared
to be glad the focus was off the swimming.
Cooper made a gesture like he was loosening his hips, doing
a slow, gyrating hula for everyone to admire. “Tough job, but someone’s gotta
do it. I’m working on a little Cooper. Sort of a housewarming present for my
new bride.”
The group broke into laughter and several Teammates whistled
their approval. With the tension reduced, Armando watched his supersized
Teammate walk down the street to the motorcycle parking. He put on a flowered
helmet that belonged to Libby and kick-started a red Vespa. He looked
ridiculous, hunched over the handlebars, riding the lawnmower motor off into
the night.
“He still hasn’t bought a truck? He’s been talking about it
for weeks now,” Fredo barked.
Beale leaned forward and received his new beer, winking at
the waitress. “Libby’s dad
gave
him a new truck for a wedding present.
He doesn’t like the gas mileage.”
Armando leaned back in the chair and looked up at the stars.
He wished his family problems were about trucks and gas mileage and a wife who
wanted to get pregnant. He wondered if life would ever be that normal for him.
But good for Coop. If it can happen for you, buddy, maybe
there’s hope for me after all.
Next morning in the squad room Sam showed up in the same
foul mood he’d had the night before. Gina watched him bang into chairs and
bluster, as if every movement involved great effort or pain. He ignored his
other UCDs, who in turn eyed him carefully, trying to avoid the bull in the
china shop. She didn’t doubt he
was
feeling pain, and secretly relished
the thought that Armando had done this to protect her.
Wanting to be prepared, she ran several scenarios over and
over in her mind, deciding she was going to push back just as hard as he did.
She thought the other guys would pile on if Sam started going after her, so
she’d have to do it smart. If she got lucky, maybe Sam would go off on one of
his legendary tirades in front of the brass. As she watched him bite his lower
lip and devour the stubble growing just below, she knew he was close. Very
close. It wouldn’t take much. Everyone in the room was watching him.
After the initial group chastisement for a mission almost
blown, she and Sam were asked to stay behind and talk to their sergeant in
private. The glass door was closed, but long looks from the bullpen didn’t give
her any feeling of privacy.
Suck it up, Gina. You’re a big girl. Wanted to play in
the big leagues? This is how it’s done.
Wasn’t going to be anything easy about this.
“There a problem here you two can’t handle?” Sergeant
Kozinski had a walleye and Gina wasn’t sure whether he was looking at her or at
Sam.
“No, sir. I’m good.” Sam spoke up first before Gina could
respond. Like hell he was good. He hadn’t been good since the day after he’d
charmed her into his bed. That Sam she never saw again after Night One.
“Gina?” Kozinski asked.
The quiet pause in the room highlighted Sam’s laborious
breathing. She could tell he was suffering and had probably spent the night
getting shit-faced. She was hoping Kozinski noted the bloodshot eyes, the
stench of alcohol a fresh shower and a pint of aftershave couldn’t mask.
“Sir,” she began. She adjusted the little girl voice that
wanted to come out first. “I don’t want Sam working on this case. This is my
undercover detail. I’m the one in jeopardy. Wasn’t expecting him to do anything
on this but run his snitches. Didn’t know until last night he was part of it.”
She looked at her sergeant. “And I don’t like it one bit, sir.”
So far, so good.
Kozinski nodded. “It wasn’t something I approved. Sam used
his own judgment, under the circumstances. Ton of Scorpions at the bar. Backup
was needed. At least, that’s what I was told.”
“But
I
didn’t call for backup, sir, and it would have
been
my
call to make.” Gina was going to keep tossing hooks out there,
hoping one of them would snag Sam. “And even if I did, he’d be the
last
person I would request.”
Her jab began to work as she heard Sam’s quick inhale and
the squeaking of his steel-toed lace-up boots.
“Just who the fuck do you think you are, Gina? A rookie
pulling rank?” Sam was red-faced, and exactly the right kind of belligerent to
make Gina’s case to the sergeant. She could have kissed him, she was so happy
at the display.
“Hold it, Sam. Back off,” Kozinski warned.
“Maybe you better tell Kozinski about your little lap dance
in the back seat with the SEAL?” Sam spewed, ignoring his sergeant.
“You have no idea what went on in the back seat, Sam. I’m
working the case the best way I can.” Gina tried to sound calm, but she was
feeling the ground falling out from under her.
“What’s a SEAL doing here? Someone talk to me,” Kozinski
asked as he shifted his gaze from Gina to Sam. He finished eyeballing Gina.
“Gina, what the hell’d you do?”
“Nothing, sir. I was playing the part I was asked to play.
We noodled around a bit. Nothing I can’t handle. And we’re both adults. I’m
single. So is he.” She glared at Sam and could see her gaze left its mark. She glanced
down at his left hand and noticed his wedding ring was gone. “It won’t be a
problem, sir.”
“This SEAL the brother of Mia Guzman?” Kozinski asked.
“Yessir,” Gina and Sam said in unison.
“Wish the hell he’d butt out. You best get unfriendly with
him in a hurry, Gina.”
“Easier said than done, sir.” She could feel Sam’s intense
stare. She could smell his anger brewing.
“Well, then your cover will be blown, Gina. And that will be
on
you
,” her sergeant answered.
“Understood, sir.”
“Honestly, sir,” Sam began, “I think we should get another
officer to do the detail. Gina has shown a total lack of objectivity.”
Gina’s blood boiled. Her few minutes of Heaven were being
tarnished by an abusive ex-boyfriend who had about as much objectivity as a man
dangling from a rope in a climbing accident.
“Sir, that was an unfair comment. Sam is the one who
inserted himself and almost cost us the entire mission last night.
He
is
the one who needs to be removed. He is jeopardizing all the efforts I’ve made
so far.”
“Bullshit, Gina. You call it
effort
, screwing that
SEAL—”
Sam’s voice carried into the bullpen. Several heads on the
other side of the glass turned in their direction.
Kozinski muttered obscenities to the floor. “I’m going to
have both your badges in about a minute. Jee-ZUS officers! Get a grip. I feel
like I’m talking to a couple of kids who got in a fight on the playground in
junior high.”
They both apologized. Gina worked hard not to smile. Victory
was nearly in her grasp.
“If Sam stays on this case, then you won’t have to replace
me. I quit.” Gina couldn’t believe she’d just said this. Her insides were
cheering.
“I sure hope you know what the hell you’re doing, Gina.”
Kozinski paused to look at Sam. “And I could say the same for you.”
Sam started to object and he suddenly faced the palm of the
sergeant’s hand. “Save it. You’re off the case, Sam, except for working with
the informants. You’ve done some damned good police work here. Let’s not screw
with it, okay? I’m going to back Gina this time. You’re to physically stay out,
unless otherwise requested.” Then he turned a wizened eye on Gina. “Young lady,
you better not fuck this up.”
Sam left the office, without being granted permission,
leaving the door open. Gina knew Kozinski was about as fair as they made them.
He’d let Sam sulk off this time, but if there were a second time, Sam would get
something that would show up in his file.
“I’m sorry, sir. You know we have a history, right? He
doesn’t seem to want to let it be.” Gina felt perhaps the sergeant might have
compassion for her under the circumstances.
She was wrong.
Kozinski had quietly closed the door to his office and
stood, his hand on the doorknob. “Hell, Gina, the whole department knew about
your torrid little romance. You honestly think I’m that dumb?”
“No, sir.”
“We’re all adults here. Takes two people to fuck each
other’s brains out. You could have always said no.”
“But Sam was senior to me. At first I was worried—”
“God dammit, Gina. I wasn’t talking about
Sam
. I was
talking about the SEAL.”
Armando and Kyle, LPO for Team 3, were waiting for Gunny to
open the gym. The retired Gunnery Sergeant was getting slower and slower. He’d
been the father confessor to all the young SEALs from Team 3, especially Kyle,
the Team’s LPO, and his crew. Armando and Kyle had been inseparable all
throughout the BUD/s training, and they’d deployed together three times.
Gunny had a hand in helping Kyle, Cooper and Fredo rescue
Armando from the Mexican gang who had kidnapped him after abducting Mia. For
this Armando would be eternally grateful.
Kyle had told him privately Gunny wasn’t in the best of
health. He sported a scar going from his belly button to his neck where they’d
opened him up and then stitched him closed. He’d refused further treatment for
his lung cancer. Everyone knew the only reason the cancer wasn’t growing faster
was because Gunny was just too damn ornery.
The older Marine wheezed and spat a wad of something thick
and dark before he set his shaking hands on the keys, trying to thread the
lock. Kyle looked worried.
“You’re here early for a Saturday, you two. Have a
frustrating sexual encounter, boys?” Armando could see Gunny’s attempt to
change the focus fell flat.
“Shut the fuck up, Gunny. How was your night?” Kyle asked.
The front door opened, tinkling the tiny brass bell over the
doorframe. Gunny punched a combination into a newly installed keypad nearby.
The gym had nothing but rusty old equipment, but a string of vandalisms had
Gunny trying to protect what little he had invested there. Duct tape repaired
the display case, which now stood empty. The thieves made off with the T-shirts
and a case of bottled water, leaving the old gym equipment behind.
Gunny coughed up more phlegm and spit it into a tissue
behind the display case. He discreetly dropped it into a trashcan. “Watched
Dancing on Air last night. Double elimination. Reba, the one with the big
boobs, made it, so all’s well.”
Armando smiled and slung a towel around his neck as Kyle
headed for the bathroom. “I shoulda come over and kept you company.”
“Gee thanks. Nah, all you boys got your own lives these
days. I’m starting to feel like a third tit on a stripper.”
Armando felt the sadness and knew Gunny wouldn’t be around
long enough to see him married and starting a family of his own, like Kyle and
Cooper were doing. It made him a little sad.
“So I take it you feel like shit, then?” He kept his back to
the older man, working his first rep of free weights. He ended his set by
throwing the dumbbells down on the rubber mat, which was the standard protocol.
Placing them gently on the ground would get you tossed good and proper from the
gym.
“That pretty much sums it up. But I do have some good news.”
Gunny was staring out the front plate glass window.
“What’s that?” Armando asked as he began his second rep.
“Got a son coming to see me all the way from Thailand.”
“No shit? When?” Armando threw the weight down again as Kyle
came back into the gym.
“Next week. Says in his email he wants to meet me. He’s
twenty-two.”