SEALs of Honor: Markus

Read SEALs of Honor: Markus Online

Authors: Dale Mayer

Tags: #Romance, #Military, #Fiction

BOOK: SEALs of Honor: Markus
6.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
MARKUS

SEALs of Honor, Book 7

Dale Mayer

Books in This Series:

Mason: SEALs of Honor, Book 1

Hawk: SEALs of Honor, Book 2

Dane: SEALs of Honor, Book 3

Swede: SEALs of Honor, Book 4

Shadow: SEALs of Honor, Book 5

Cooper: SEALs of Honor, Book 6

Markus: SEALs of Honor, Book 7

Evan: SEALs of Honor, Book 8

Mason’s Wish: SEALs of Honor, Book 9

SEALs of Honor, Books 1–3

SEALs of Honor, Books 4–6

Table of Contents

Title Page

About the Book

Complimentary Download

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Author’s Note

Complimentary Download

About the Author

Also by Dale Mayer

Copyright Page

Back Cover

The 7th book in the ever popular SEALs of Honor series is coming in late September. This is Markus and Bree’s story.

Love hurts. Markus lost someone he loved, and for a long time, he’s been dead inside.

Now he spends his life in service to others as he slowly pulls himself together, but he’ll never be the same. And then he meets Bree…

Lost and alone and in trouble, Bree wonders how her life has become such a mess. After coming so close to dying, she’s eager to explore and enjoy the life she almost lost. Getting kidnapped and then escaping into the wilderness of Alaska was not in the plan.

But someone knows she’s seen and heard too much. He can’t afford to let her live. Her second chance is about to be shattered…

Sign up to be notified of all Dale’s releases
here
!

COMPLIMENTARY DOWNLOAD

DOWNLOAD
a
complimentary
copy of TUESDAY’S CHILD? Just tell me where to
send it
!

Chapter 1

S
hit he was
tired. Not that Markus Donner would let anyone know.

Not bone weary. That implied he could feel his bones. And that was beyond him. This last mission had been hell. But he’d made it home. Enjoyed four days of rest. Not that enjoyed was quite the right word. Maybe survived?

Now back to training. In Alaska this time. The military base here was huge and he enjoyed coming to this part of the country. The north offered unique geographical challenges for them. In a way that was a relief. He could use something to beat down. Home was empty. Lonely. He’d slept the first day away. And the second had been like moving through treacle. His body was recovering fine. His heart, his mind…not so fast.

Yet the melancholy had nothing to do with his work. Lord he loved his job. Loved his chance to serve. Especially in this capacity. He gave his all every day. He’d buried himself in his work for years. And it had helped him to heal.

Only now there was just a hole in his heart. A void in his life.

One he wasn’t sure how to fill.

Life wasn’t the same when you came home to an empty house. An empty life. More than that it was hard to come home and know it wasn’t going to change – if he didn’t change it.

And that was a mission he wasn’t ready for.

When he’d found out they were heading to Alaska for wilderness training, he couldn’t wait. He’d had enough of his own company by then and needed to focus on something he could grab onto and do something about. Not stare at this emptiness inside. How could something that didn’t exist hurt? It made no sense. But it was a reality that he’d lived with for several years now.

God he’d loved Fiona, his wife of five years.

Losing her had been the toughest thing in his life. He’d gone off the wall for a while. It was the guys who’d reined him back in. He’d have died happy on a mission. He’d been crazy and on edge and had pushed the edge farther. He knew he’d been out of control for a time. He hadn’t cared. He’d needed to die in action. It was the only way he could live. But the guys had knocked some sense into him.

Levi had finished the job by making him realize that his death would be on his team. That’s what Levi had finally gotten through to him. And that was something he couldn’t do. He knew the guilt, the pain of losing someone – how could he force that onto them?

So he’d forced himself to deal with the new reality of living without Fiona.

But damn it, it hurt.

Still, he went out, gave his heart to the mission and came home. Alone.

It had taken months before the guys let him do that alone thing. For the longest time he was babysat by one or the other as they kept a watchful gaze on him. He’d both hated them and loved them for it.

As he healed they’d eased back.

In a way that was worse. Now he was always alone and he didn’t want to be. Not any longer. The emptiness clawed at him. Now he craved more.

And buried that need in work – again.

Alaska was good. Tons of rough territory. His muscles screamed to run free. He loved to feel his heart pound, his muscles burn. It was beyond anything.

And he enjoyed every minute of it. Soaking wet, mud in his face and his heart pounding in his chest. The hunt. There was nothing like a good chase to keep him alive and moving. This training exercise was man against the wilderness and man against himself. And of course man against one another. Sure there were always bad guys, but right now he was after another SEAL team. And he wanted to beat their ass. He grinned ferociously. Was there ever anything more primitive than being pitted against an enemy that was equal to you? That age old fight for dominance. To find the alpha between them. The thing was his buddies were the best of the best and they were
all
alphas. This wasn’t so much about being the top as much as it was about knowing that in real situations he would be top, regardless of who stood with him.

There was no room for error in the real world, and that meant there was no room for error here either.

Shots fired, whizzing past his head.

Shit. He ducked and was moving before his mind had registered that someone had snuck around and seen him.

He zinged to the left and then right as he slipped through the wetlands. The river water was high, the ground soft and marshy. And the clumps of wild grasses deceptive. The ground was so rough with hillocks he could lie flat behind one and be completely hidden. Movement on the right had him sliding to his belly as he waited and watched. The ground cover was such it was damn near impossible to see anyone. It became a waiting game. He knew the drill wasn’t over until the other team was caught. There was no surrender in this instance.

The training area was forty square miles. He had a lot of ground to cover.

He slowly lifted his head and looked around. And heard a rifle click behind him.

Shit. Shit.
Shit
.

He hated to lose.

Slowly he raised his hands, considering his options. He wasn’t going to get taken. No way in hell was that going to happen.

“Move.”

Markus froze. He didn’t know that voice. But making these practices real was what it was all about.

Only this training session was on taking out snipers. Not plaid wearing grizzled hunters.

Wearing a bright orange cap and with chew in his mouth, the man nudged him hard with an old 30:30 lever-action rifle.

Markus almost smiled but the rifle looked too well used for humor.

“I said move.”

Not sure how this was playing out, Markus followed the orders. This was not public land, and no one but military should be anywhere close.

People did sometimes accidentally trip into the region though. It happened. And to give the old man the benefit of the doubt, maybe Markus had stepped onto private land. Not sure how possible that was considering the area, but he’d been wrong before.

He turned and walked forward as ordered. He looked around hoping to see one of his men sporting a huge grin.

“Don’t know what the hell you think you’re doing here,” the old man growled, “but I am not going to find out.”

Markus shook his head but stayed quiet. What the hell just happened? Or was he part of the practice session?

That was the best explanation given the circumstances. Then again, there was nothing normal about this guy. Trying to wrap his head around the sudden change, he knew one thing – the old rifle in the guy’s hand was non-military, but it had a serious end and lots of years of use.

So an old geezer who lived alone and hunted when he pleased and where he pleased most likely. Still Markus’s job was as it always was…to escape and take down the sniper.

But not at the expense of getting shot. And never by hurting a civilian – unless he deserved it.

And if this guy
was
a civilian, the last thing he wanted was for his team to find out he’d been given the shake down by this guy. Friend or enemy? Too early to tell. They hadn’t been aware of any friendlies in the region – even confused ones.

But that’s what a real-life session was all about. You couldn’t plan for every contingency. It wasn’t possible.

And this was just another example.

“Where are we going?” he asked in a low conversational voice. He was in full combat gear so it was impossible to not understand who he was on one level. He was obviously a soldier. That he was a SEAL wasn’t something he planned to divulge.

“Don’t matter to you none.”

The serious end of the gun nudged his back.

Still confused and half afraid he was being taken for a ride while the other half worried he’d stumbled into something much more serious… Markus kept on walking. But he reached up his hand to his ear and under the pretext of scratching he sent out a series of taps on his earpiece asking for help. He had a cellphone but that didn’t mean he had service.

He didn’t know if his team could hear him or not, but the communications had been working at the beginning of the day. They’d gone to silence early on.

Now he had to deal with the outdoorsman.

“How long have you lived here?” he asked in the same conversational voice as he walked forward.

“Doesn’t matter.”

Right. Not very talkative. “Do you live alone?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Markus tried again. “It’s beautiful out here.”

Other books

The Handshaker by David Robinson
A Writer's Tale by Richard Laymon
Her Last Letter by Nancy C. Johnson