and Jenna, seated on the deck near the rear of the boat. Then he stood behind a shielded weapons mount, watching the shoreline and the sky.
* * *
THE TRIP BACK to the Special Boat Team 22 base located at Stennis, Mississippi, took less than twenty minutes. Becca’s clothes stuck to her skin. Along with the sweltering heat and humidity of late summer in Southern Mississippi, she was sweating and ready for a shower. They were met upon arrival by men in navy uniforms, standing on the dock.
As soon as the boat came to a complete stop, Becca, Natalie and Jenna all stood. Quentin leaned close. “The tall one is the boss, Commander Paul Jacobs, and he looks mad. The man with the face of a bulldog beside him is Master Chief Joe Martin.”
Commander Jacobs tilted his head toward the operations building. “Inside. Now. Before Homeland Security, CIA, FBI, FAA, state and local police and every other government entity descend upon us.”
The men clambered off the boat, helped the women onto the dock and hurried them toward the building.
Once inside, the commander gave strict instructions to the SEAL manning the front desk. “Don’t let anyone inside without notifying me first.”
The man popped to attention. “Yes, sir.”
The master chief led them to the end of a hallway and into the conference room lovingly referred to as the war room.
Becca slowed about halfway down the hall, and then stopped short, causing a pileup of people behind her. After all that had happened, she felt a gnawing need to get back to DC, the SOS headquarters and their impressive computers to look for another link to her father’s killer. “I really need to check in with my boss and catch a flight back to DC as soon as possible.”
Commander Jacobs shook his head. “No one’s going anywhere until everyone’s been debriefed.”
Quentin hooked Becca’s arm. “The sooner we go through the debrief, the sooner you can be on your way.”
Becca allowed him to guide her into the war room, and then shook off his hand and lowered herself into one of the seats. Her leg bounced beneath the table. Every minute she was in Mississippi was another minute some bastard was loose, possibly planning on killing another member of the CIA or even her, since they’d targeted the plane bringing her and the SEALs back to the States. She glanced at Quentin, glad he and his friends had all made it off the aircraft before the fuel had ignited in a fiery ball of smoke and flame.
He stood near her, leaning against the wall, a smile playing on his lips, his gaze on his commander.
Commander Jacobs cleared his throat, drawing Becca’s attention. “I have a mind to never again grant this navy-issue band of misfits leave,” he began. “What the hell happened while you were in Mexico?”
“Sir, you might want to take a seat,” Duff said. “This could take a while to explain.”
The CO shoved a hand through his hair. “We don’t have time to go into a lot of detail. Having a plane shot down on US soil is something we can’t hide, nor do we want to. But that brings in a whole lot of scrutiny. Give me the digest version. And make it fast.” He snapped his fingers.
Quentin stepped forward. “While in Mexico, we busted open a human trafficking ring, and then someone tried to kill Sawyer.” He turned to Sawyer Houston, his teammate. “But that was an effort to get his father Rand Houston to fly to Cancun so that an assassin could kill the senator.”
The commander shot a glance toward Sawyer. “I heard about the senator’s death. I’m sorry.”
Sawyer nodded acknowledgement. “Thank you, sir.”
Duff cut in with, “As you see, Sawyer’s fine and the rest of us survived with only minor injuries.”
“Injuries?” A ruddy flush rose into Commander Jacobs’s cheeks. “You were supposed to be on vacation, not running covert operations. Who gave you permission to get involved?”
Duff, Sawyer, Montana and Quentin all stood straighter.
Quentin answered, “Sir, we couldn’t stand by and let women be sold into sex slavery.”
Duff backhanded Sawyer in the belly. “And we couldn’t let someone off Sawyer or his father.”
“So, you assigned yourselves as the superheroes to save the world.” The commander pounded his fist on the table. “Damn it! You’re trained Navy SEALs. You follow orders. You don’t take on the world without checking in with your commander.”
“Sir, they really didn’t ask to get involved,” Natalie offered. “They did what they thought was best. If it hadn’t been for your men, my sister and I would be in some harem in the Middle East or dead.”
The CO turned toward Natalie, his eyes narrowing. “Who are you, and what do you have to do with all this?”
“I’m Natalie Layne. My sister was kidnapped while on vacation in Cancun. I went there to find her. Duff and his friends helped me locate the island she was being held on and free her and several others.”
The commander faced Jenna. “And you?”
“I’m Jenna Broyles. I was on vacation in Cancun when I got the wrong suitcase. It contained a rifle and a file folder identifying Sawyer Houston as a target.”
Sawyer rested a hand on the back of Jenna’s chair. “Sir, if she hadn’t warned me, I’d be a dead man by now. They wanted to get to my father by going through me.”
Commander Jacobs paced the length of the table. “For the record, Houston, I didn’t hold your lineage against you because you’ve proven yourself over and over.” The man stopped halfway across the room and faced all of them. “Still, none of you thought to clue me in on what the hell was going on?” He spun toward the pilot and copilot.
The pilot held up a hand. “Robert Van Cleave, pilot of the plane, this is Randy Needham, my copilot. I don’t know what all happened in Cancun, but we experienced engine trouble after something hit the plane.” He nodded to the man next to him. “We did the best we could to land the aircraft in an unpopulated location. We got everyone out before the fuel ignited and the plane exploded.”
The commander nodded. “Thank you for getting them down in one piece and out of the plane alive.” He turned to Becca. “And who are you and what do you have to do with what happened? Were you one of the kidnapped women being sold?”
“No, sir.” Becca stood, too wound up to sit, and ready to get the heck out of the building and on her way to DC. “I’m Becca Smith, and I was in Cancun looking for the assassin who killed my father, a respected member of the CIA. I believe the assassin who targeted Sawyer was the same mercenary who killed my father. Unfortunately, he died before we could find out who hired him to do the job. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I want to get back to DC and see if I can pick up the trail from a different direction.”
Commander Jacobs held up his hand. “Hold your horses, young lady. Like I said before, nobody is going anywhere. You do realize you’ll all be questioned in regard to the airplane you were flying in. And, by the way, you haven’t gotten to letting me know how you managed to be returning to the States in a private jet.”
Becca
