Hot SEAL, Labor Day by Cynthia D’Alba
Hot SEAL, Secret Service
A SEALs in Paradise Novella
As a Navy SEAL, and then as a Secret Service agent, Liam Ghost’s best work is done out of the spotlight. When he’s assigned to the Vice President’s daughter, the magnetic pull between them leads to a hot, passionate affair. But the public attention on him, and on them, shines too bright a light and he backs away into shadows, leaving both of them pining for what they lost.
Liz Chanel is used to the being in the public eye. Through her formative years, her father served as state governor, senator and now vice president. When she falls for a member of her secret service detail, she feels every piece of her life is perfect…until her lover walks away. Even though she doesn’t need the money, she jumps back into her modeling career in an effort forget Liam.
During an intense reelection campaign for her father, Liz is snatched off the runaway and held to force her father off the ticket.
Liam assembles a team of ex-SEALs to go get his woman back from the kidnappers, and maybe talk her back into his life.
Copyright © 2020 Cynthia D’Alba
All rights reserved — Riante, Inc.
“You know if this goes sideways and I get hurt, my wife is going to kill me. I promised this weekend would include nothing dangerous,” said ex-Navy SEAL Nicholas “Falcon” Falcone. “And that I’d make it home by Christmas morning.”
“Where did you say you were going?” asked Liam Ghost, aka Dagger One for this mission, aka ex-Secret Service and ex-SEAL.
“A SEAL convention.”
The other three ex-SEALs seated on the floor in the back of the transport aircraft laughed along with Dagger One.
“At Christmas? She believed we hold conventions on Christmas Eve? And how did you explain why she couldn’t come?” asked Levi Van der Hayden, aka Dutch.
“Didn’t have to explain anything to Jen. She trusts me.” He shook his head. “Actually, she knows me too well. She kissed me and told me she was going to buy herself a new Benz as a Christmas present from me while I was gone.”
Dutch and Banger laughed.
Liam, who’d met Falcon’s wife, nodded and asked, “Which one?”
“Who knows? She has expensive tastes so my money is on whichever model is the most expensive.”
Liam chuckled. “In that case, my money’s on a two-seater convertible.”
“Five minutes to target,” the pilot said into his mic.
“Man, I hate HALOs. I figured I was done with those when I left teams,” said Heath “Banger” Diver.
HALO, otherwise known as high altitude-low opening jump, was one of the least favorite activities for most SEALs.
“Sorry, guys. It was this or a ten-mile hike in the snow with a steep, vertical ascent,” Liam said.
“How good’s the intel?” Dutch asked.
“Fairly solid. There are other teams being dispatched to other locations, but from the latest debrief, I think we’ve got the hot spot. Check your gear, gentlemen. Out the door in one minute. And before I forget, thanks for this. I know it’s almost Christmas. You’re doing me solid. I won’t forget.” Liam fist bumped each guy. “I promise you’ll be home by Christmas Eve.”
The plane’s tail opened and the ramp slowly lowered. The team pushed up from the floor and shuffled toward the ramp.
“Good luck, guys,” the pilot called out.
“Go time,” Liam said. “See you on the ground.”
Five bodies hurled from the plane.
A recent snowfall left fresh powder over harder, frozen ground providing a welcomed cushion to the landing. After quickly gathering their parachutes and stashing them under the limbs of snow-covered fir trees, each man took a snowboard from his backpack.
“Command. Dagger Team on location,” Liam reported to the operations command center.
“Copy, Dagger One,” Command responded. “Charlie Team and Beta Team hit dry holes. How copy?”
“Copy, Command. Dry Holes. What are you seeing on sat?”
“Eight heat signatures on the move. One stationary. No vehicle traffic. Copy?”
“Copy.”
“VP scheduled to make statement in less than two hours. You have ninety minutes to secure site and locate hostage. Copy?”
“Copy. Ninety minutes.”
“Dagger One, engage, but do not terminate. Copy?”
Liam gritted his teeth. Those bastards who held the love of his life deserved to die, preferably in some long, slow fashion.
“Dagger One. How copy?” Command repeated.
“Copy, Command. Engage, but do not kill the fuckers.”
“Good luck,” Command responded. “Out.”
“Listen up,” Liam said to his team. “The first two teams hit dry holes. Looks like we’ve got the prime target. SATCOM reports eight moving heat sigs, one stationary. We will assume that one to be the hostage. When we get within a mile of the cabin, Dutch and Banger break off and circle around to the east. Falcon, you and Mac go west. Once each side is secured, Dutch and Banger will move on to the south. Our orders are to capture tangos for interrogation and secure VIP package. Do not terminate tangos.”
“You talking to us, Dagger One, or to yourself?” Dutch asked.
Liam grunted. “Good question, Dutch. I’ll try to keep at least one alive to testify.”
The five men bumped fists.
“Let’s go,” Liam said.