Chocolate Covered Billionaire Navy SEAL (3 page)

After the meeting, Brock stripped down in his office and changed into shorts and a t-shirt. Just outside his second floor office door was a set of stairs leading down to an emergency exit. He scanned his badge to prevent the alarm from sounding, pushed open the door and took off. Running four miles in under twenty minutes, he returned slightly winded and headed to the gym. After a short workout followed by a shower, he replied to a few important emails, then headed to the lobby.

He found Akbar looking out the large glass windows to the parking lot. Brock said, "Got a hot date?"

Turning to him, Akbar smiled. "I wish. I'm waiting for my cousin. My car's in the shop."

"Should have told me… I would have dropped you off. I still can if—"

"No, I'm good. He's on his way."

After nodding, Brock slipped through the double doors and headed toward his car.

Pulling into the lot,
Nasir drove toward the front door. He spotted Brock walking to his car and his eyes shot wide open. Following Brock as he walked, the car barreled toward the curb until at the last second, he slammed on the brakes, which let out a horrible squeal. Nasir looked toward Brock, who was now looking directly his way. Quickly tilting his head down, he brought his hands to his face and held still until Brock climbed into his SUV.

With his heart beating out of his chest,
Nasir backed the car up away from the curb and pulled in front of the building.

Akbar climbed into the car wearing a concerned look. "What the hell's wrong with you?"

Ignoring him, Nasir pulled out his phone and after Brock backed his car out of the parking space, shot pictures of the license plate.

"What are you doing?"

"That's Cocoa Death!"

"What?" Akbar scoffed.

"I saw him kill my brother… your cousin. He's with the military."

"What did you call him?"

"Cocoa Death!" Nasir looked him in the eye. "I'm sure that's him. Now I can finally avenge Ali's death."

"That can't be. He's an executive. He's not in the military."

"Tell me… does he smell like chocolate?"

"Well, yeah…" Akbar shook his head. "But so does everyone in the building. It's a chocolate factory."

"No." Grabbing Akbar by the shirt, Nasir pulled his tiny body to him. "Tell me, does his skin smell like chocolate?"

"I don’t know." Akbar took hold of
Nasir's wrist and shot him a hesitant look. "I don't think so."

Nasir
kept hold of Akbar as he said, "That infidel tortured and killed your cousin. He tortured me. I could smell the disgusting sweet scent of him." With his eyes bugging out of his head, Nasir added, "I will never forget that smell."

"Look, I'm sure, I'm sure… it's not him," Akbar struggled to say.

"Are you… " Nasir shot him a sickened look. "Are you making friends here?"

"What? No!"

"Are you forgetting the reason you work here?"

"No, I… I only—"

"Your friend is going be dead along with the rest of them… and soon. Don't give me a reason to doubt where your loyalties lie."

"No, never I am loyal to
Huday… loyal to the death!"

"Good!" Pushing Akbar away,
Nasir gripped the steering wheel tight. "It's him. I know it is. I will prove it to you at home."

Twenty minutes later, on the grounds of the
Fullman compound Brock stepped out of the guest house and headed to the main house dressed in fatigues. When he entered the library he found his mother, Carol, staring out the window sipping a martini.

Turning to him, Carol groaned.
"No, Brock, not again."

"You know I have to do this. I've got to finish what I started."

"No, you don't."

Dropping his gear to the floor, he moved to the window next to his mother and looked out. "I can't rest until every last one of them is brought to justice."

"Who, Brock, who?"

He sighed. "Must we have the same argument every time I go?"

"Yes, we must! I love you and until you really listen and hear what I'm saying I'm going to keep saying it."

"My soul mate died in a vicious terrorist attack and until everyone responsible is—"

"You know in your heart, she was at least partially to blame."

"What?" He looked at her, shocked. "I'll never believe that." Moving to the sofa, he plopped down and dropped his head into his hands.

"Oh, Brock." After taking a sip of her martini, she headed toward him. Slipping down next to him on the sofa, she let out a hiccup as she patted his knee.

He looked her in the eye. "How can you even say that?"

She sighed. "Okay so you're making everyone responsible… pay, right?"

"That's right!"

"Then when are you going to go after the ambulance driver?"

He narrowed his eyes. "What? That doesn't even make any sense."

"No sense…" She scoffed. "She was run over by an ambulance!"

"Uh-huh… and the ambulance was on the way to the location of a terrorist attack."

"It was a failed terrorist attack."

"Yeah."
He folded his arms and glared at her.

"A pretty pathetic one at that."

"Yeah, what are you trying to say?"

"That ambulance could have been on the way to treat a heart attack victim and if it was, what would you've done… gone after the man having the heart attack?"

He shrugged his shoulders and turned away from her.

"Look, if Constance hadn't been wearing those iPod headphones she might have heard the siren. But she didn't. She stepped off the London street corner and that was it. No one is to blame. It just happened."

"No."

"Using your logic, aren't the people at Apple Computer to blame then?"

"Steve Jobs is dead." Turning to her, he narrowed his eyes. "How do you know I didn't make him that way?"

"This is serious." She shook her head. "You're going to get yourself killed and that's not going to bring Constance back."

"Look, mom, this is something that I've just got to do. For me… for Constance and for all of us."

"Promise me you'll think about what I've said."

"I will… I've got to go." He kissed her on the cheek, breathing in the strong scent of gin and olives and made a sour face. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

He stood and picked his gear off the floor. "And you promise me you won't drink too much."

She shook her head in agreement. "Be safe."

Thirty minutes later, Brock was airborne piloting his Gulfstream C-37A toward his destination in the Middle East. The nearly 6,000 mile flight was at the very edge of the aircraft's range.

As Brock was in the air, Akbar and
Nasir returned to their rented home less than half a mile from the Fullman plant. After pulling the car into the garage, they made their way to the basement where two other men were busy working. Fareed was studying a computer screen while, Kusay was soldering a wire on a bomb seated inside a briefcase.

Nasir
asked, "Did it arrive?"

Lifting his eyes, the man working on the bomb replied, "No
, Huday sent a message. It will be two weeks."

"Shit!"
Nasir stood behind Kusay and shook his head. "What is the hold up?"

"He did not say."
Kusay grabbed a pair of scissors and returned to his work.

"How hard is it to get some plutonium?"
Nasir said. "I mean, you can order pretty much everything online these days. He calls himself a freaking terrorist. Geez."

Akbar and
Nasir made their way to a sofa and sat down. Nasir sighed. "So we will not make the fifth of July now."

Without lifting his head,
Kusay replied, "Huday said it does not matter when we do it, just that we do it right."

"Then we could use the other bombs.
The chemical ones."

Kusay
began, "No, Huday said we—"

"
Huday is thousands of miles from here. I'm in charge." He looked pointedly to Kusay. "You doubt that?"

Kusay's
eyes widened. "No. No, sir."

Akbar said, "We'll just find another day when the plant will be full of workers."

"No."

"It will
be the fifth and we will kill two bats with one stone."

"I think
it's birds." Akbar shrugged.

"What?"

"Two birds…" Akbar slumped back against the sofa and closed his eyes.

"Yes, two birds."
Nasir's pulse quickened along with his breathing as he gripped the edge of the sofa hard with his anger boiling over. "Cocoa Death!" Nasir announced loudly startling Akbar and the other two men. Jumping up from his seat, he rushed to the corner of the room and pulled a small briefcase out of a box.

He returned to the sofa, sat down and opened the case. After a quick search, he found the picture and studied it closely, seething. "It is him."

Leaning forward, Akbar focused on the unmistakable image of Brock dressed in a military uniform standing next to a general. His jaw fell open. "Shit!"

"You see."

"Are you sure he is the one who killed Ali?"

"I am."

Pausing a moment, Akbar took a deep breath. "Then soon he will get what he deserves with the rest of them."

"No." Narrowing his eyes,
Nasir shook his head. "A quick painless death is much too good for him."

"What do you mean?"

"He needs to suffer. Yes, he needs to suffer. I watched as he tortured and killed Ali. I want someone he loves to watch as I slowly torture and kill him."

Akbar widened his eyes. "How can we do it?"

Nasir smiled. "You said the plant would be empty for the holiday weekend. We will do it then. Does he have a wife?"

"No."

"Girlfriend?"

"Yes." Akbar grinned. "She's a nightmare."

"I'm going to enjoy this."

A couple continents away, touching down just after midnight, Brock made his way to the field office.

He opened the door and found Commander Rockway seated on the lone chair in the bleak room; a cache of weapons at his feet.

Rockway
snarled. "Lieutenant, where the fuck have you been?"

"Sorry,
sir, got a late start."

Leaping up from the chair,
Rockway jabbed Brock in the neck with his palm and drove him into the wall. "A late start!"

"Yes, sir."
Brock struggled to say.

"You little prick. Never in my fucking life have I heard of a part-time Navy SEAL. You're a disgrace to the uniform. I don't give a fuck if your daddy knows the Secretary of Defense. If this mission fails, you'll be the victim of friendly fire. You got that chocolate boy?"

"Yes, sir." Brock whispered, struggling to breathe.

"There were plenty of other men willing to give their lives to the SEALs. Just know that you've taken another man's spot here— a real man— a more deserving man. You'd better understand that you little shit… You sicken me."

Rockway released his grasp of Brock's neck. Sliding down the wall, Brock slumped over coughing and shaking his head. After taking a few deep breaths, he sat up, rubbing his neck with his hand. He gazed up to Rockway with watery eyes. "I will not let you down, sir."

Seventeen minutes later, Brock singlehandedly ended the lives of six terrorist
s without breaking a sweat. After collecting the hard drives from all the computers at the compound, he returned to the field office, where that bastard, Rockway, didn't even thank him.

With his landing delayed by bad weather, Brock touched down at 12:42. Since he had no time for a shower, he drove to the cemetery, stopping along the way pick up Constance's favorite peach-colored roses. A normal man, who'd just flown 12,000 miles in about under twenty four hours, killed half a dozen terrorists and completed a top secret mission, would be desperately in need of a shower, but not Brock— he still smelled pretty amazing.

When he reached the grave site, he discovered that Stephanie was already there. "Stephanie, sorry I'm late."

Turning to him, she smiled. "No, I just got here." A gust of wind blew her long blonde hair across her face. She secured it behind her ear and looked skyward. "Looks like it might rain."

"I heard the storm's going to hit north of us." He pulled the near pristine roses he'd delivered on his visit only three days earlier from a vase on top of the headstone and replaced them
with the fresh flowers.

"They're beautiful," she said.

He sighed. "They were her favorite."

"I remember."

Both stood in silence sharing a few moments of quiet reflection. Suddenly the wind kicked up violently and the quickly approaching clouds looked more ominous.

He shrugged. "I guess I was wrong."

"We'd better head back."

As they walked quickly toward their cars the sky opened up and what started as light rain, quickly grew heavier. When they reached the parking lot, he opened the door to her car and waited while she slipped inside. Ducking his head into her car, he said, "I guess I'll see you at the plant."

"Okay." She smiled brushing her damp hair from her face.

He bolted to his car and started the engine. Glancing over to Stephanie through the rain spattered window, he noticed her grimacing. He rolled down his window and yelled out, "Is everything okay?"

She turned to him and raised her hands up in defeat. After rolling down her window, she yelled out, "I really need a new car."

"What's wrong?"

"Won't start."

"I'll give you a ride and I'll call Jeremy and have him tow it to his garage."

"That would be great." She smiled. After rolling up her window, she climbed out of her car, then hurried to his large SUV.

Dripping wet with her hair a complete mess, she chuckled as she shivered a bit. "Wow, this is a nightmare."

"Are you cold?"

"A little."

He cranked up the heat. Outside the rain pelted the car as the two looked out the windows and shook their heads. "We'd better wait until it lets up a little."

She nodded in agreement then after nearly a minute of silence, she turned to him. "I miss her."

"Yeah, so do I."

She gave him a serious look. "I can't help feeling that it's my fault. That if I hadn't gotten drunk that night in London I would have been with her that morning and she'd still be here."

"No, no. Don't you dare go blaming yourself for this. I should have been with her. I was supposed to go on that trip and if it's anyone's fault, it's mine."

Both took deep breaths and pushed their heads back into the headrest. After a moment, he glanced over to her and asked, "So are you and David still…"

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

She gave him a hesitant look. "Um, well, you remember right after Constance… right after, you know,
it
happened, I went through this period when I kinda acted out sexually."

He narrowed his eyes confused,
then shrugged. "Not really."

"Well, he found out about it and—"

"That was years ago, how could he break up with you over that?"

"I guess I don't blame him, I mean I didn't tell him about it. He found out from one of his friends who
was involved."

"It couldn't be that bad."

"Oh, it's bad." She frowned.

"You never, um… I mean, if you don't mind me asking, what did you do?"

Closing her eyes, she took a moment then began, "You remember Clark, the quarterback senior year?"

"Sure."

"I was over his house one day after school and we were fooling around and you know…" She motioned nervously with her hands.

"Yeah."

Turning away from him, she let out a slow breath. "One of his teammates came over and we, well, you know how they say, watch out for the blindside?" Looking him in the eye, she raised her eyebrows. "I didn't see it coming, literally."

Suddenly angry, Brock said, "They raped you?"

"No. No, I just kinda let it happen." Staring straight ahead, her face morphed into a sexy smile. "That's not true. Once it started I actually really got into it." She licked her lips and sighed seemingly reliving the erotic experience. Brock's jaw dropped open. After ten seconds, she returned her attention to him and shook her head. "Sorry, sometimes I, uh…"

He sat up a little straighter in his seat. "I mean, you were going through a tough time there, so lots of people have experimented with threesomes. It's not all—"

"That's not the whole story." She gave him a hesitant look. "I, actually, um… had Clark call some of the other guys."

"Really?"
Wide eyed, he turned to her asking, "How many?"

After thinking a moment, she held her hand up and counted them off with her fingers. "The running back, Joe, two offensive linemen, the tight end, Bradley and
... " She grimaced. "…three of the defensive linemen."

"Oh." He glanced to her quickly with a comforting smile. "That's, uh, wow… "He gripped the steering wheel unsure what to say.

"And I almost forgot I did it with the kicker also."

Taken aback, he turned to her. "You slept with Jay?"

She replied sheepishly, "I did."

"God, he was a real jerk."

"I know. I know."

He looked her in the eye. "But you've gotten that all out of your system now, right? I mean, you're not still
… ?"

"No.
No, God, no. I've been through a string of monogamous relationships since then."

Folding her arms, she shivered once again.

"Wait. Here, I've got, um…" He turned reaching to the backseat and grabbed a jacket.

She leaned forward and he placed it over her shoulders. As he adjusted it around her she turned her head toward him, took a deep breath and sighed. "You smell really good. Connie used to tell me how good you smelled."

With their lips only a few inches apart, they gazed into each other's eyes for what seemed like a long time until he whispered, "Better now?"

"Uh, yeah."
She smiled gratefully.

Clearing his throat, he moved back to his seat.

She closed her eyes as he returned to looking out the window. With the rain now slowed, he said, "I guess it's okay to drive now."

Turning back to her, he noticed her shivering. "You're going to catch a cold. My house is so close, do you want to go there and I'll get you something dry to put on?"

"That would probably be best." She nodded happily.