Holding Out For A Hero: SEALs, Soldiers, Spies, Cops, FBI Agents and Rangers (21 page)

Jameson hadn’t been brought up to speed yet, so all he had was his hunting rifle, but he was a crack shot, especially at long distances.

The little house came into view as their rented van pulled slowly into a clearing just outside a good view of the front porch. On a normal day, it would look like a welcoming rural homestead. But he just knew it was the prison that held his daughter.

Kyle whispered instructions again, just like they’d discussed on the short trip over. Without IEDs or little flash bombs, they’d have to coordinate their attack flawlessly, if the surveillance proved to be accurate.

Armando came back with the information. He could hear the little girls playing in one of the bedrooms downstairs, supervised by one of the sitters, and everyone seemed to be doing fine.

Jameson leaned back into a tree, closed his eyes, and nearly lost his bowels, he was so grateful. Cooper and Fredo gave him an appreciative pat on the back.

“How many inside? Can you tell?” Asked Kyle.

“Didn’t want to risk it, but I’m thinking I heard maybe five separate voices. They’re working on something in back, a new delivery of two-by-fours and some steel and bags of concrete, but no one working at this hour.”

“These fuckin’ maggots. You send some of them back to the source, and then they fly the coop and set up shop somewhere else,” whispered Fredo.

“Well, not this group. I don’t want anyone killed if we can help it. But if you see any of the girls in mortal danger, you have my permission to shoot. I’ll get the court martial, but you’ll be able to live with yourself, hear?”

“Yessir,” everyone whispered in unison. Everyone readied their weapons.

They checked their timekeepers and followed Kyle’s silent countdown, knowing when they were supposed to do what they’d outlined. Jameson and Jones were to go in through the window in the girls’ bedroom. Armando would take the rear door with Fredo behind him. and Kyle would take the front door breach. Anyone reaching for a gun would be disabled and killed if they didn’t stop. Anyone who held a hostage got a bullet to the head, plain and simple.

Like all their operations, the assault started on time with complete accuracy. The girls screamed when they heard the window shatter, running to their babysitter, but Charlotte’s eyes grew wide when she realized Jameson stood before her, on his knees, ready to accept the body slam she gave him. Even the sounds of gunfire in the next rooms didn’t faze her. Jameson held her close and assisted Jones in safely stowing the girls behind a mattress and box spring sitting near the outside corner. The SEALs propped the bed up with two sturdy wooden chairs and instructed the girls not to leave the area.

Jameson was carefully monitoring the emotional level of the teenager. He could see she looked scared and sported a recent black eye. “Are you Cissy?”

“Yessir,” she said sweetly. “God, I’m so glad you came.”

“You hurt? Anybody hurt?”

“I’m fine, but Maureen—”

The sounds of gunfire were over, and he heard a series of “clears” and knew it was safe to begin to breathe.

“Where are Malia and Maureen?”

“Malia went off to Chicago to prepare the wedding. I think Maureen is in the front room.” As an afterthought, she asked, “You don’t think they—”

Jones interrupted, “Not these guys. Okay, Jameson, I’m going outside to make sure it’s safe.”

The tall dark-skinned SEAL slipped through the doorway.

Jameson held the two little ones, their shaking bodies feeling cold. They were still in their nighties and were barefoot. Their feet and legs were dirty, faces smeared with what appeared to be jam, wispy hair flying up in all directions. He warmed them with his body, still aware of the sounds around him, especially outside.

“What were they going to do?”

“I’m so sorry. You her daddy?”

“Yes.”

“They had these girls sold to some guy in Chicago.” Her lip quivered. “I overheard them talking, the boys speak perfect English.” As she watched Charlotte being embraced she added, “I didn’t know anything about this. They just showed up.” She began to cry and Jameson pulled her over next to the other two girls and huddled with them all.

The SEALs walked through the bedroom door together with a swagger he hoped to have one day.

“Jameson, why is it whenever we find you, your surrounded by ladies,” Kyle barked. Armando and Cooper were trying not to laugh but finally gave up.

Yeah, he knew how to charm the ladies all right. He knew how to sing a hit record and be the man on stage. All those things were good and honorable. But he was looking at the men he would die for, if need be, and they’d just saved the most precious thing in his life: Charlotte. They could swagger all they wanted, boast about their exploits, and be as obnoxious as hell, but they got the job done. For that, he would forever be grateful and not mind putting up with everything else.

Nashville Seal: Chapter Nineteen

Jameson clutched Charlotte, wrapping her in his jacket. He smoothed her hair, kissed her forehead, and whispered to her over and over again how much he loved her.

She relaxed in his arms, and he was gratified to hear her begin to chatter just like the happy little girl he remembered. She was safe. His brothers had helped save her, and it now appeared she was resilient to the danger she’d just lived through. God knew, he’d be making sure she never wanted for anything the rest of her life. He would ache whenever he had to leave her, but he would always come home again to her and her mother.

Still clutching his daughter, he walked into the living room of the structure. Cooper and Fredo were stacking computers, cell phones and piles of loose papers, throwing everything into cardboard boxes. Eight young men, children, really, sat with their backs against the wall. Four armed men lay dead on the floor.

Kyle was giving instructions to the locals by phone, directing them to bring a large van for what appeared to be quite a haul of information.

Sadly, they’d not found the sheikh, nor any of the older men, except one. He said his name was Assad, and he’d been an interpreter for American forces in Syria recently, he said. The younger boys were ziptied, their faces showing the shock and surprise of capture. Fredo let Assad chatter on while the boys in front of him were restrained.

“Oh yeah?” Fredo remarked.

Assad was trying to talk his way into Fredo’s good graces, something Jameson knew wasn’t going to fly very long.

“You know, asshole, I’m about done with your bullshit.” Fredo picked up a wide piece of duct tape and placed it over Assad’s mouth. The strip was so long that it also covered his ears.

“That’s better,” Fredo said. Armando pushed Assad next to his Jr. Militia and used the tape to wind around the man’s wrists several times.

Jameson was ready to get Charlotte home but they waited for the emergency vehicles to arrive on the scene to take control of the prisoners and the intel.

He boarded the second seat in the van. Cissy and her other charge were helped to the rear seat, sitting securely between Coop and Fredo. Charlotte was curious at first, but then tucked her head under his chin, her fingers playing with the beads on his shirt, touching the different colors. His emotions welled up, and he began to silently sob. He didn’t want to scare her, so he took deep breaths to attempt to calm himself, part of the training he’d received, but also just instinct.

His SEAL brothers let him do this in private. No one consoled him. They let him deal with his joy and his pain as the van took them back to their home. He now realized that for every joy in life, which was so precious and fragile, there could always be a huge source of pain.

Not today.

Today, the good guys had won. Today, they were going to live to be with the ones they loved. He was sure that Kyle and Cooper, Armando, Jones and Fredo, were missing their wives, their girlfriends, and their own children, as they followed every movement he made as he hugged the miracle of his own.

When they arrived at the house, he picked Charlotte up, heading for the front stoop. She’d begun to fall asleep, which he was grateful for. Lizzie met him half way, relief on her face as she hugged them both and received a tired return hug from Charlotte. Kendra took her daughter in her arms. Mrs. Gunther wrapped her arms around her daughter, who collapsed in her mother’s chest. They were lead to an ambulance

Lizzie pulled his head down. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, my love.”

All he could do was smile through his own tears, matching hers, and search how full his heart was, overflowing with the love of his women.

Next, Lizzie went to each of the SEALs and gave full-on, body slamming hugs and kisses, thanking them for their rescue mission. He followed along as she received embarrassed smiles from these tough guys, saw their cheeks pink up. His beautiful Lizzie could melt the whole State of Alaska with her gracious, loving heart and warm smile. She would live with exuberance and the free spirit organically given her from the day she was born. And he’d spend his life protecting that free spirit and making sure nothing would ever interfere with her happiness again.

One by one, people started leaving the house. Kendra transferred both girls, who were fast asleep, clutching each other, to her bedroom, instructing Jameson and Lizzie to take the other one.

“We all need to rest. I’ll do the duty in the morning and bathe the girls. I’m not going to do it now nor do I have the energy to bathe myself,” her raspy voice chirped. “This has been quite a day, and I’m exhausted.”

Jameson suddenly didn’t feel so exhausted. He ushered his SEAL brothers outside, and wished them farewell. He conversed with the police and Detective Blalock, and shooed away a news crew with their satellite dish and white van. He locked the front door and saw Blalock had put a detail out in front of the house. He was grateful for that as well.

“You know what Charlotte told me when I gave her over to Kendra?”

“No. What, sweetheart?” He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her, squeezing, and feeling so grateful to be alive.

“She said, ‘Mommy, can I tell you a secret?’ and I said, ‘sure.’”

He waited, leaning back to be able to view her pretty face in the reflection of the moonlight.

“She said, as she pointed in your direction, ‘That’s my daddy. And he loves me.’” Lizzie’s eyes filled with tears again. “You told her.”

“I don’t remember any of that, honey, but I must have. It just came out, I guess.”

“Well, she was listening. She heard every word. You’re gonna have to remember that in the future. She has very keen ears.”

“Hmmm.” Her body heat begin to permeate his soul. “I’m going to have to remember that.” He kissed her, felt the familiar reach of her arms up over his shoulders, the way her tight nipples knotted against his chest. He squeezed her ass, lifting her up off the ground, and she wrapped her legs around his hips.

He carried her down the hallway to the little bathroom with the even smaller shower. “There’s hardly any room in here,” he growled as he opened the glass door and turned on the water. “So we’re gonna have to conserve space as best we can. Would it be okay, honey, if I pressed you close so we both could fit in here?” He followed up his statement with a wicked grin.

“With pleasure,” she said as he removed her top and her bra. She carefully unbuttoned his special shirt. “Some day, you’re gonna have to tell me about this.”

She carefully folded it, laying it on the stack of towels on the wicker shelf where it would be safe.

He followed right behind her into the shower and pulled her back against his torso. She held her hair up with one hand and turned to expose her neck to his lips, and he kissed her from the nape of her neck to her ear. “Love you, Lizzie,” he whispered in her ear.

His fingers smoothed over her slick breasts with warm soapy water sluicing down. She moaned as he bent his knees and pulled her butt in to rest on his thighs, reaching around between her legs to feel her little bud vibrate to the ministrations of his thumb and forefinger. He found her opening, and she angled her pelvis back and forth, riding his hand.

“God, I missed you. Did you receive all the lustful dreams and dangerous shower scenes I was sending you from California just about every day?”

She giggled, removing his hand and turning, placing it to her left breast. “So that’s what it was. Here I thought I was having all those erotic dreams of you, and it was you all along coming to me. You’re a sneaky one, aren’t you? God, you’ll never leave me alone, will you?”

His fingers found her again, and she arched back as he inserted two.

“Never. I’m going to love you all day and fuck you all night.”

“Hmmm. I love the way that sounds, sailor.”

The cold tile on his flesh was delicious, but not nearly as delicious as her smooth, soapy, warm flesh under his fingers. They took turns washing each other, kissing each other, rubbing against each other for as much flesh-on-flesh contact as they could manage.

Then the water turned ice cold quickly.

“Okay,” she whispered. “So much for foreplay. I’m ready for the main course. How about you, Jameson?”

“Most definitely. I’m starved.”

She turned off the water while he found a towel and blotted her fine body dry, kissing her here and there, wherever he thought she needed a kiss. At last, he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, locking the door behind him.

He placed her delicately on the bed and studied her body’s rise and fall to the beauty of her own rhythm.

He held her arms to the sides, threaded his fingers there, and allowed his body to find hers. Her knees were bent, her pelvis perfectly angled to accept his stiff cock in one long motion until he had completely filled her, pushing against her cervix.

“Marry me, Lizzie. Let’s do this. Let’s be a family. Let’s give Charlotte another brother or sister. Tonight. Be my wife,” he whispered as he slowly stroked her insides, her lithe body rising like the waves of the ocean, falling back into the soft bed. “I need you to be my wife, more than I’ve needed anything else, Lizzie.”

“Of course, my love. It will be so.”