“Our mission is our mission.”
“Yes, Chief,” came the replies.
“Even though the senator, of course, wants his daughter back, the issue is that she stole his laptop computer, which is full of sensitive information. The intel suggests that Fantella is using her to get his hands on that laptop, which he can market to the highest bidder. Your priority is retrieving this laptop. Bringing home his daughter is secondary, but command would prefer you do both. It’d go a long way with legislative relations.”
“Where are we headed?” Cowboy asked.
“Intel has them near the Golden Triangle.”
“Do we know which country? Thailand, Laos or Myanmar?” Benjamin asked.
“Our last report had Ms. Paulie and Mr. Fantella on a yacht outside territorial waters. Let’s hope it stays that way. Let’s load up, guys.”
On the almost-fifteen-hour flight from California to the U.S. base in the Philippines, the team reviewed and prepared for their tactical approach. There happened to be an aircraft carrier in the region, and the team ended up cooling their heels for twenty-four hours after they arrived waiting for ideal weather. In this case, ideal weather came in the form of a wet monsoon that covered their assault.
The team boarded the yacht under the cover of darkness and a raging storm, taking the boat crew and guests by complete surprise. The daughter and laptop were retrieved with minor bloodshed.
Fantella and his impressive ship were handed over to DEA and the U.S. The team hauled an unhappy senator’s daughter and the intel-loaded laptop back to the carrier. While the heavy rain and storms had been perfect for the mission, they now delayed the team’s helicopter from taking off to return to the base. They were again required to sit tight for a few days to allow the weather to improve.
Finally, they got the all clear to leave on Tuesday night. From the Naval carrier, the team, along with the Ms. Paulie and the laptop, flew from the ship to a U.S. base in the Philippines, and from there back to their home base at Camp Pendleton
Back on base, an exhausted team filed into the conference room for the debrief.
“Good, no, great job, team,” their CO said.
“Thank you, sir,” Benjamin replied. “There’s no team better than Bravo team.”
The guys replied, “Bravo.”
Their CO nodded. “As missions go, this wasn’t a long one, but I have to admit, our returning guest made every mile seem like ten.”
Benjamin chuckled. “Yeah, she wasn’t happy about being hauled home. Kept shouting about her rights and that her daddy would have us all up on kidnapping charges.”
“Not on a radar at all,” the CO replied. “Now, let’s run through the op, step by step and see where we could have improved.”
Two hours and eight showers later, the team filed out of the building, into their vehicles, and headed for McP’s Irish Pub, the infamous SEAL hangout.
On the drive over, Benjamin left Holly a text, letting her know he was back and would call later tonight…not that he felt he had to check in with her. They didn’t have that sort of relationship. Still, it’d been a while since he’d felt the need to let anyone know when he landed back in the U.S.
As the team charged past the “Welcome. Wait here to be seated” sign, through the bar and out onto the patio, Benjamin stopped to talk with Ray, the longtime bartender.
“Send eight shots of Wild Turkey and two pitchers of whatever beer you have on tap to our table.”
“Got it, Master Chief. Welcome back from wherever you went, and congrats on a successful mission.” Having worked at McP’s so long, Ray was familiar with the various SEAL Team traditions.
The order Benjamin placed was Bravo Team’s ritual once they arrived home in Coronado. Two shots of whiskey per man for a successful mission and one shot if not. The dreaded three shots—which, thank the lord, he’d never ordered—was for a team member lost on active duty.
“Thanks, Ray. We’re on the patio.”
He grinned. “Yeah, I know. I figure the ladies in here will be out there shortly.
“Aw, Ray. You know my team would never use McP’s to pick up women.”
Ray laughed. “Yeah, and I’m doing BUD/s training next week.”
Benjamin laughed as he made his way outside, which for this noisy crew was an ideal location.
The guys had pulled two tables together. They were loud and rowdy, and damned if he didn’t love each one of them like a brother. How could he ever leave teams? The guys were the family he’d never had,