SEAL’s Command by Makenna Jameison
Chapter 18
“Hi Harper, that was nice of you to call,” Ashleigh said into her cell phone. She’d been day-dreaming at Slate’s dining room table, staring at the words on her computer screen. She needed to finish this chapter and then run her errands, but a phone call from a new friend was a welcome distraction.
“Sure thing. We’re meeting Thursday evening for drinks. Normally, Clarissa isn’t free in the evenings, but it’s fall break at her university, so she can join us. She’s worried Blake and the guys will get sent out, so we decided to have a girl’s night at the Mexican place. I can’t drink right now with the baby, but they do have awesome margaritas.”
“Yeah, that sounds fun. So, what about the woman that just had a baby—Hailey?”
“She’s not coming for obvious reasons. Her mom flew in from the East Coast to help take care of their little one. Grayson will get sent out with the men.”
“Wow, that’s terrible.”
“The life of a SEAL is rough,” Harper said. “Thankfully he was here when the baby was born. Some men might be on a mission, and by the time they get emergency authorization to return home, the baby’s already born.”
“Wow. I can’t imagine. Well, I don’t know much about babies and haven’t even met Hailey, but let me know if I can help. I could always drop off a meal or something.”
“You’re sweet,” Harper said. “I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”
“So who else is coming?”
“Clarissa, Taryn, me, Kim, and Caitlyn. You met everyone but Caitlyn the other night because she and Troy had other plans.”
“All right,” Ashleigh said nervously. “I’ll try to keep everyone straight.”
“You’ll be fine,” Harper assured her. “We’re just excited the commander has a girlfriend now.”
Ashleigh burst into laughter. “We’re together, but that made me laugh. Slate doesn’t seem like the type of man to call a woman his girlfriend.”
“He doesn’t,” Harper agreed. “But I can tell that man is smitten with you. Just seeing the way he watched you the other night was awesome. I’m surprised the room didn’t go up in flames,” she teased.
“So no one thinks it’s strange that we’re together? Not that I really care what other people think,” she added. “But I’m a writer. I’m younger than him. We’re somewhat different.”
“Not that much younger,” Harper said. “Besides, we all know men are more immature than women. And opposites attract.”
“Oh my God,” Ashleigh laughed. “I can’t see anyone calling Slate immature.”
“Touché. But you two fit together. He’s too serious all the time and needs someone like you.”
“Funny, that’s exactly what my best friend and his brother said when they set us up.”
“Wait—they set you two up?” Harper asked in excitement. “And the commander agreed to this?”
Ashleigh quickly explained how they’d met at the cabin a few weeks ago, and Harper was laughing even harder by the time the story was over. She wasn’t happy they’d been in danger, but to know that Slate hadn’t been able to stay away from her was apparently amusing as hell to the other woman. He’d just told everyone that summer that he didn’t date or have time for a relationship.
“I guess you changed his mind rather quickly,” Harper teased. “Good for you. You both seemed really happy Saturday night.”
“We are,” Ashleigh confirmed. The women went on to chat a few more minutes, Ashleigh asking about Harper’s pregnancy and the baby. Her own fiancé Logan seemed smitten with her. Apparently, they’d recently gotten engaged within the past couple of months. Now they had a wedding and baby to plan for.
She shook her head. Ashleigh had been perfectly fine living on her own, being independent, but after moving in to Slate’s home for the past few weeks, it was hard to imagine ever returning to her old life.
“Listen, I’ve got to run,” Harper said. “I’ve got two bakery orders to finish up this afternoon. We’ll talk again soon, okay?”
“Sounds great,” Ashleigh said, saying goodbye to the other woman. Closing her laptop, she went into Slate’s bedroom to grab her purse. Her pink suitcase had been tucked into Slate’s closet, and he’d cleared some drawers and closet space for her to use while she was here.
Would she really go back home when this blew over? Or would she stay and give their relationship a chance? If she moved to San Diego, even temporarily, she felt like she should get her own place. On the other hand, it seemed silly to do that when things were going perfectly here. They’d already meshed their schedules, content to get ready together some mornings, cook together, and talk or read after dinner.
And the nights in Slate’s bed.
Ashleigh flushed just thinking about it. For a man who exercised control in all areas of his life, she loved when he couldn’t hold back with her. They’d tried various positions in bed at Slate’s urging, and she’d loved all of it. She might be somewhat more hesitant than him in the bedroom, but he always made her feel safe and cherished. Plus he seemed to absolutely thrill at pleasuring her, putting his mouth on her more enthusiastically than any of her past lovers ever had. He was considerate and caring, protective, and the fact that he was scorching hot didn’t hurt either.
Was she falling in love with him? Everything had happened so fast, but she didn’t have another way to describe the overwhelming feelings coursing through her.
With one last look around his masculine bedroom, she went out to the rental car parked in Slate’s driveway. He’d insisted she didn’t need one, but once she was out of her walking boot, she’d enjoyed having the freedom to get around while he was on base. Slate had wanted to pay for her rental car, and they’d finally compromised on splitting the cost. It seemed silly for him to expect to pay for her vehicle, but that was the type of man he was. He liked taking charge of the situation, taking care of her, and he claimed that it was his own fault since it was him that the terror cell was initially after.
Ashleigh drove to the shopping center a few miles from Slate’s neighborhood, planning to stop by the drugstore and then supermarket. She’d long since used up her travel sized toiletries, and she decided to get her own shampoo and a few things instead of using Slate’s. She grabbed some of the floral soap she preferred and put it into her cart beside the shampoo and conditioner. Rounding the corner, she nearly bumped into a man coming her way. He had bleached blond hair and was clean shaven, and after she apologized, she continued toward the cash registers.
Grabbing her bags, she walked toward her car, planning to leave a few things in the trunk before she did a little grocery shopping. She wanted to surprise Slate since he’d mentioned he loved Italian food. She’d make a delicious chicken parmesan for dinner tonight and pick up a bottle of wine as well. Slate was more of a beer guy, but they had some at his place if he’d prefer that.
She popped open the trunk to her rental car, setting the bags inside.
The sound of tires squealing in the parking lot had her head turning, and then she panicked as she saw a white van racing toward her. Ashleigh jumped back, fumbling with her car keys as they fell to the ground. Two masked men jumped out of the van, and she screamed as the larger one moved toward her. She kicked and fought him, but a sickeningly sweet rag was held over her mouth. Struggling against the much bigger man, she slowly began to lose consciousness.
Her last thought as she slipped under was of Slate. He’d told her to be careful today. And now these men were taking her.
***
Slate frowned as Ashleigh’s phone rang several times and then went to voicemail. He knew she’d left two hours ago, because she’d texted him before she went out to run a few errands. He’d told her to stay safe and asked her to let him know when she returned. It was entirely possible she was still out shopping or had made another stop somewhere, but worry niggled at the back of his mind. Normally, she responded to his texts almost immediately. She knew he was often in meetings on base and had said more than once her schedule was flexible, so she didn’t mind sending a quick response even if she was busy writing. It’s not like they had long phone conversations during the day—or ever. They didn’t need to talk long on the phone considering they’d been together first at Jett’s cabin and then at Slate’s house in San Diego. He’d check in with her when he got a moment and loved that she always made the time to shoot him a quick text back.
“Is everything okay, sir?” Raptor asked, catching the expression on his face. The younger man glanced at him with worry creasing his brow as some of the other men seated around the table in the bullpen looked up.
“I hope so. I can’t get a hold of Ashleigh, but I know she was out running errands this afternoon.”
Logan looked up from the materials he was reading. “Harper talked to her earlier today. They made plans for a ladies’ night on Thursday. Harper sounded pretty excited about it.”
Slate nodded. “Ashleigh texted me several hours ago, so I know she was okay at the house. I haven’t heard from her since, and it’s unlike her not to respond.”
“Maybe she went to get her hair done or something,” Ethan said. “Kimberly is not fussy at all, but if she has an appointment for a haircut or pedicure, I definitely don’t hear from her. She wants to relax and chill out, not be on her phone.”
“That makes sense, but she was definitely running a few errands. I don’t think she had plans to stop by a spa or anything similar.”
“Check the feed on your home security system,” Jackson suggested. “Maybe her phone died and she didn’t get your messages. At least that way you’ll know if she made it back.”
Clenching his jaw, Slate pulled up his home surveillance system. He wouldn’t normally be too concerned, but the fact that Amir had been spotted last night was unnerving. Why the hell hadn’t Ashleigh just waited for Slate to get home? It certainly would’ve eased his mind to know she was safe at his side. They could’ve run whatever errands she needed together.
Ashleigh was an adult who could make her own decisions though, he thought with a frown. A relationship between them would never work if he tried to call all the shots. She was far too independent to let a man control her life, and honestly, he loved that about her.
Looking at the surveillance footage, he saw her rental car back down his driveway two hours ago and head down the street. She hadn’t come back yet. Aside from the mail truck coming by and some regular traffic on the street, nothing else showed up on his surveillance. There was no movement in his backyard either. “No. She’s not there,” he said.
“I could ask Harper to call her again,” Logan said.
Slate glanced up at the massive TV screen in the bullpen. The team was going over information for an op in Guatemala. He needed to get his men briefed and prepared to move in if needed within the next few days. His other team was conducting training exercises today that he needed to check on. Slate didn’t have time to keep calling her, but something was telling him she was in danger. His intuition had never been wrong before. In the short few weeks he’d known her, Ashleigh had quickly become the priority in his life. That was quite a gut check given he’d put the Navy first for his entire career. He’d never forgive himself if he didn’t follow up on this and she was in some sort of danger.
Just then his phone buzzed, and he cursed as he saw Agent Briscoe’s name on the screen. “Tell me you have information on Amir,” Slate said. “Was he spotted anywhere else today?”
“Possibly. I’ve got some potential bad news. There was a reported kidnapping at a shopping center not far from your house. The victim fits Ashleigh’s description. A car was left with a trunk open, keys on the ground, and some shopping bags in the back.”
“God damn it!” Slate roared, and all eyes in the room swept toward him. “When?”
“An hour ago. A white van pulled up in the parking lot. Two masked men got out, according to eyewitnesses, and kidnapped a woman.”
“An hour?” Slate asked, mystified. “Why the hell are we just learning about it now?”
“One witness was a young teenage girl. She was so terrified, so was afraid to even call for help. Another shopper found her sobbing in the parking lot. Police were called, and then my team was notified as soon as the initial reports were taken.”
“Holy shit,” Slate muttered. “She was kidnapped an hour ago? What’s the license plate?”
The agent rattled it off to him, and Slate cursed again. “That’s her rental car. Tell me everything. Does the surveillance in the parking lot show the van’s plate? What direction were they headed?”
Raptor was already moving across the room, picking up a secure phone line and asking for Ace to report to the bullpen. He had no authority whatsoever to pull Ace in from the training, but Slate didn’t give a shit. He would’ve called Ace himself the moment he got off the phone with the FBI. While the police and FBI would no doubt go through proper channels to obtain the surveillance footage, Ace would hack into the systems and obtain what they needed.
Was that legal? No. For a man that always went by the books, it didn’t matter at the moment. He’d deal with the repercussions of it later if it came to that. The only thing that mattered was Ashleigh’s safety. It had already been an hour, and his gut churned at how terrified she must be.
Had they harmed her already? Killed her?
If they wanted to end her life, they could’ve shot her point blank in the parking lot. It was shocking and unsettling to even consider that, but she was a defenseless woman. A civilian. He hoped like hell they’d taken her to get to him, and he would gladly change places with Ashleigh in a heartbeat. What had happened to her in the meantime though? An hour was too damn long already. And if they did grab her to get to him, why hadn’t they made any demands yet?
Slate listened to the rest of what Agent Briscoe had to say and then ended the call. Logan already had the local news turned on. He glanced down at a message on the laptop he was using. “SITREP will be coming through shortly.”
Slate nodded, wondering exactly how the shit hit the fan all at once. The FBI called him. The local news were on scene. And they were about to get a classified intelligence report on the matter. His eyes flicked back to the television as Logan turned up the volume. He hated they were currently relying on open-source information. He wanted classified intelligence on the suspects, and he wanted it immediately.
Camera crews had descended onto the parking lot of the shopping center, and Slate’s stomach roiled as he saw Ashleigh’s rental car in the distance. The trunk was still open with police cars and officers surrounding it. They hadn’t broadcast her name yet, only that an abduction had occurred in broad daylight. A small crowd had gathered near the scene, and he cursed.
Jackson crossed his arms, watching the news, and Raptor answered the secure line in the bullpen. “Roger that. See you in ten.”
Slate’s gaze flicked toward the SEAL team leader. “Ace is on his way. They were out on the water, but he caught a ride on a Zodiac back to shore. Another man will drive him over here.”
Slate nodded, clenching his fists. Ten minutes was too damn long when Ashleigh had already been missing. Ethan’s fingers were rapidly flying over his laptop, and Slate didn’t even ask him what he was working on. It could’ve been about Ashleigh. It could’ve pertained to Guatemala. For a man used to being in command and control, he couldn’t even think straight. He felt like he’d been sucker-punched, living his absolute worst nightmare.
“The SITREP came in,” Raptor said, raising his voice. “Amir Mohammed and his associate, Khalid Omar, both wanted by the FBI, abducted an American citizen from a shopping center in San Diego on 17 November at approximately fourteen hundred. The white van with license plates JXR-7914 was last seen traveling south from the shopping plaza.”
“Shit,” Logan said, glancing at the commander. “Should we alert border patrol? They could be taking her to Mexico.”
Slate nodded, and Logan hurried toward the phone. Fucking hell. If they’d planned on that, they’d already be in Mexico, which would complicate things tenfold.
Jackson scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Would it make sense to take her to Mexico if they’re after you? It seems like that would just slow down the entire process, sir.”
“They’re desperate,” Slate said. “Maybe they think they’ll have more leverage if she’s out of the country. They could threaten to sell her off to a cartel or sex traffickers.” He ran his hands through his cropped hair, uncharacteristically losing his cool as he began to pace the room.
They heard footsteps thumping down the hallway, and then Ace came running into the bullpen, his hair still damp from their water training. He’d stripped off his wetsuit at some point but was still tugging his camo uniform into place. “They took Ms. Moore?” he asked, looking straight toward Slate.
“We need footage from the traffic cams near the border. We have the plates, and the SITREP indicated they were headed south. I need to know where they went so we can find her.”
The other men were moving to Ace as Logan slid a laptop toward him. The Guatemala mission could be discussed later. Fortunately, the men weren’t likely to be needed to deploy for several more days. They could spend all their time tracking down Ashleigh.
“Are you guys heading out soon?” Ace asked, glancing at the materials scattered around the table.
“Possibly Wednesday morning,” Raptor said in a low voice.
“Guatemala?”
Raptor nodded, and Slate clenched his fists. He might know how to command operations on foreign soil, but tracking down fugitives on U.S. interstates was a new one. “I never should’ve left Ashleigh alone today,” he ground out.
“Negative, sir,” Ace said. “Ms. Moore wouldn’t have been happy having us there any longer watching her all day. She gave Trigger grief about being on babysitting duty.”
Slate’s lips quirked despite himself.
Ace’s fingers quickly typed in information, and they watched as he pulled up various traffic cams.
“Shit. That can’t be legal,” Logan muttered.
“You never saw this,” Ace said in a cool voice. “Tell me the license plate. I’ll type it in and have the computer scan for it.”
“Isn’t the FBI doing this?” Jackson asked with a frown. “They sure as shit should be.”
“There’s lots of government red tape,” Raptor said. “Of course, Ace is using a government-issued laptop.”
“I’ll take the fall if anything comes from this,” Slate said, eyeing his men. “My only priority is finding Ashleigh.”
Ace nodded. “I understand, sir.”
Slate frowned, remembering his earlier conversation with Ace about the girl he was chatting with online being in some sort of trouble. No—not chatting. Gaming. Whatever the hell that meant. Slate remembered the days that playing a video game meant sticking a cartridge in a console and playing on the TV screen. If he was at all interested in video games, no doubt he’d be up on the latest now.
“You still suspect your friend is in trouble?” he asked.
Raptor crossed his arms, glancing at Ace. He’d been part of that conversation at the party, too, Slate remembered. Ace cleared his throat. “I’ve actually been texting her. She hadn’t been online, and I was worried. I sent her my cell number in a chat via the game, and she started texting me.”
“How do you know it’s really her?” Jackson asked.
“I know.”
“And you’re still worried about her,” Slate ascertained. “Did her texts give you indication she was in trouble?”
“Yes. I think she found something online she shouldn’t have.”
“Like what?” Raptor asked.
Ace shrugged. “Dunno. She wouldn’t tell me. She doesn’t really know me, so I’m not surprised that she didn’t go into details. She has no clue that I’m a SEAL, just that I’m good with computers. I don’t know if she found something related to money laundering, sex trafficking, terrorism—it could literally be anything. I’m worried.”
Troy crossed the room, sinking into a chair near them. “You seem really into this girl, and you’ve never even met her in person. What’s she look like? Did she send you a picture?”
“I don’t know,” Ace admitted. “I’ve never seen a photograph. She has an avatar, but that could be totally made up.”
Raptor shook his head. “What’s her avatar look like?”
“Red hair. Bad ass.”
The other men chuckled. Slate watched the screen of the laptop as whatever program Ace had run was scanning the local traffic cams south of his home. If the van had gotten on the freeway, this would confirm the way they were headed. The computer was processing everything quickly, and Ace seemed to be running multiple searches.
The men didn’t ask Ace any more about his mystery woman—just let him focus on his work. Slate clenched his jaw, his entire body stiff. He felt helpless standing here in the bullpen while Ashleigh was somewhere in danger. He didn’t consider himself an especially religious man, but at the moment, he prayed harder than he ever had in his life.