They headed for duty, making their way toward the low-slung offices instead of joining the crowd heading toward the freedom of the O Club. Diego loved what he did. Every damned thing about it. Except the politics. Meetings like this, with all the glad-handing and posturing, they ranked right up there with dress shoes on his list of things that sucked.
But twenty minutes later he had to admit that politics went down pretty easy when served with whiskey.
To Poseidon. The admiral lifted his glass, light gleaming in his steady blue gaze as it swept around the circle of men crowded into the pomp and polish of his office. You do justice to my vision.
They were all well trained enough to keep from smirking as they lifted their glasses in response.
And to Lieutenant Torres for leading the latest mission to prove Poseidons might, Savino added, his dark eyes assessing, his expression satisfied. Which was about as close to a grin as he got while in uniform.
A little weirded out at being toasted, Diego knocked back the rest of his drink. As the heat slid down his throat, he realized that while this might not be the pinnacle of his career, it was a pretty high peak.
As if cementing that realization, Savino aimed a finger at Diego. The admiral nodded, setting his glass on the desk before giving Diego a sharp look.
Torres. My office, oh-seven-hundred tomorrow morning. Youll be leading Operation Hammerhead.
With that, the admiral headed for the door, apparently leaving his officeand his bottle of Jamesonto the men.
Gentlemen, he said in dismissal as he swung through the door, his two aides trailing in his wake.
Check you, Elijah Prescott said, tossing his cap aside now that the brass had cleared out. Green eyes amused, the man leaned one hip on the desk while lifting the decanter to offer refills. Leading another mission. A big one, from the sound of it. Hot damn, El Gato. Way to kiss brass ass.
El Gato. The cat. That was the call sign his BUD/S team had given Diego back in Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training because he moved with stealth and grace. Prescott was called Rembrandt owing to his habit of sketching his way through every spare minute. Lanskys skills had earned him the name MacGyver. The rest of the team was similarly nicknamed, with Savino in the lead as Kahuna.
Brass-kissing is Savinos job, Diego reminded them, giving his commander a grin. The man carried enough weight to put Diego in charge of higher-ranking SEALs on his recommendation alone. Fast-tracking him, Diego knew, toward that pinnacle. Thanks, man.
Youve led plenty of missions. Savino refilled his glass, then passed the bottle to the left. But this one can make your career.
Diegos gut clenched. Nerves or anticipation, one or the other. He was silent as they all waited until the bottle made it back to Savino.
Some things in life are worth fighting for. The commander raised his glass.
Some things in life are worth dying for. Lansky raised his.
And some things, Prescott said, giving his glass a frown before raising it high, are better to simply walk away from.
The trick, of course, is knowing which is which, Savino pointed out before jerking his chin to indicate that Diego drink up.
Formalities over, the seven men relaxed. Some refilled their glass; others said their goodbyes. Diego couldnt get his curiosity about the upcoming mission out of his head. Knowing hed get no details from Savino before the briefing, he decided to find a few distractions in the form of a crowd and, taking his cue from Lansky, a willing woman.
Heading out, he said. Thanks for the recommendation.
Savino simply nodded, his dark eyes inscrutable.
Next step, DEVGRU. Lansky smacked Diego on the back.
Next step is leading Operation Hammerhead, Diego corrected. But damned if that wouldnt be sweet. DEVGRU, the Navys Special Warfare Development Group, was the stuff of legendslike SEAL Team 6. Serving on the highest elite Special Ops team in the country was Diegos dream. Each mission, each operation, each commendation was a step in that direction.
And he was getting closer.
One step at a time, Savino said as if reading his thoughts. The light bounced off his silver oak leaf as he gestured toward the door. Cmon. Well buy the rest of the team a round before you all head out to debauch in the name of celebrating.
That it was only fourteen-thirty hours didnt much matter. The team, SEALs, sailors, were skilled at many things, including drinking at any time, day or night. And the support crew, the rest of SEAL Team 7, deserved a drink.
They headed for the O Club by way of the barracks, where they ditched the misery of dress whites. Diego, Jared and the others went for digiesblue tees and camouflage fatigueswhile Savino kept to his khaki uniform.
The whole time all Diego could think was that hed come a long way. Riding the wave of success, he barely held back his grin as he followed Nic through the crowded O Club, taking the shouted praise and ribbing with equal grace.
When he reached the front of the room, he stood to Savinos right, legs braced and hands clasped behind his back. Like a wave, the conversation rose, then settled as each man gave Savino their full attention. With a few simple words, he thanked everyone for their hard work and contribution. Even though Savino made it look easy, Diego hoped like hell that whatever future pinnacles he climbed didnt include giving speeches.
So thats that, Savino wrapped up. And since youve all listened so kindly, the next round of drinks is on me.
A few of the men laughed. A handful cheered. The rest raised their glasses in thanks. Lansky tossed his back, then turned to give Savino a fist bump.
Nice speech. Short, to the point, rounded out with booze. Youre the man. After Savinos nod of thanks, Lansky turned the fist bump toward Diego. And heres another man. King o the hill, if you ask me. El Gato, the badass kitty cat.
All hail the king, Savino said with a quiet smile before he slid out of the conversation like smoke from a flue. Quick, silent and barely noticeable. Diego knew hed leave the room the same way. Hero worship was a sad and pathetic thing in a grown man, but admiring class wasnt. Nor was appreciation. Everything Diego was he figured was due to Savino. To his drive, his vision and his unswerving loyalty to those he believed in.
Dude. Diego laid a hand on Savinos shoulder, waiting for the other man to meet his eyes. Thanks.
Savinos eyes lit with appreciation.
Dont party too hard was all he said. Youre going to want to be one hundred percent for the briefing.
That was all the warning Diego needed to know hed be nursing a single beer tonight and heading to bed early. The only thing more important than his gratitude to Savino was the success of his career.
Cmon, Kitty Cat, Lansky said to Diego when Savino turned to leave. Lets blow this joint. Find a place where we can be people instead of military machines.
You mean a place where youre fawned over by civilians wholl be impressed when you tell them you are a military machine.
Curvy civilians. Sexy ones in short skirts and high heels. Lanskys Boy Scout smile flashed, a little blurry around the edges from the back-to-back whiskeys. Gotta love them all, right?
Couple more drinks and the only thing youre gonna be loving is the toilet seat. Shaking his head, Diego headed for the door.
Couple more drinks and the only thing youre gonna be loving is the toilet seat. Shaking his head, Diego headed for the door.
Yo, Torres, a voice beckoned before hed made the exit.
Diego glanced over to see Prescott waving from a prime table next to the dart board. As usual when he wasnt on duty, the man had a pencil in hand and that engrossed look in his eyes.
Seated with Prescott was another SEAL and one of the teams support members. Petty Officer Dane Adams kicked back with his feet on the table and gestured with a dart, making as if he were aiming it at Diego. Next to him, Lieutenant Brandon Ramsey just smiled and murmured something under his breath that made the other man laugh.
Both IP officers, or Information Professionals, they specialized in tech. Adams had a solid rep as a Special Warfare Combatant Crewman, while Ramsey was on his third tour as a SEAL. Theyd transferred to Coronado eight or so months ago after deployment in Afghanistan. It hadnt taken more than a couple of weeks to realize that Ramsey was used to being top dog and not only expected to stay on top but expected everyone to kiss his ass while he was there. Since SEALs didnt kiss ass, hed had a little trouble adjusting at first. But Prescott had taken the guy under his wing, showed him the ropes. And made him one of the team.
How about a few games of pool, Ramsey suggested with a wink as Diego and Lansky drew near. Well play for shots.
I hear youre good with the cue, Diego said.
I hear the same about you, Ramsey acknowledged with an assessing look. Even in digies, the guy came across as a movie star with his blond hair spiked in casual disarray, intense blue eyes and his perfect smile. Why dont we see whos better?
Ego still bruised over Torres busting up your record on the range? Lansky asked, a sneer creasing his face. I warned you he would.
Something ugly flashed over Ramseys eyes, but it was gone just as fast. As a man with a temper of his own, Diego had to respect a guy who could reel it back that quickly.
Then its only right that you give me a shot at redeeming my rep, Ramsey suggested mildly, his hands spread wide in invitation. What do you say, Torres? You willing to go head-to-head on a universal field? Say, a pool table?
The taunt Or are you afraid? went unspoken, but they all heard it. Insults like that went hand in hand with the dog tags the men all wore. Years of training, both as a SEAL and as a man, had taught Diego to think before he reacted.
You think I need to stack the deck to win, you dont know me. Diego rocked back on his heels to offer a smile. A very small, very effective smile that mocked the idea. And, of course, the man asking it.
From the way his face tightened, Ramsey understood just fine. Not surprising. He was a smart guy. He was also after Diegos spot on Poseidon. A useless goal, since it was known that Poseidon was made up entirely of graduates of BUD/S class 260. But like everything else, Ramsey apparently figured that hed be the exception to that rule. It had to be the rich boy in him, used to being number one, always the top of everything. From his rich parents to his perfect son, according to Brandon Ramsey, he had it all and expected more.
Not a problem for Diego, since he respected someone who aimed high. Except Ramsey was going to have to get whatever he was looking for from someone else. Because Diego was keeping his share.
Ive already got plans, so pool is out. But Im happy to buy you a beer instead. Diego ignored Lanskys look of disgust. Ramsey wasnt all that bad. And any time spent with Prescott was time well spent. Besides, for all they knew, it was Ramseys relentless focus on competition thatd pushed Diego to step it up and do better. To be better. He definitely had to push past 100 percent to beat the guy. As far as Diego was concerned, that made Ramsey a good man to have on the team.
Youd rather share a beer than go head-to-head? Ramsey laughed. Sure. Why not? You might as well toast my success, too.
Success? Diego waited until Lansky was through rolling his eyes before waving a hand toward the bartender. He circled his finger, indicating another round, then grabbed his own chair. You finally score with that pretty little redhead you were hitting on so hard?
Dude, have you seen pictures of Ramseys old lady? Adams blew on his fingers as if they were on fire, then shook his head. Youd be so lucky if a woman that hot even turned you down.
Cant say as I have, Diego said with a shrug. Looking at other guys wives had never been a favorite pastime of his.
Show him that picture you just got, Brandon. Adams let out a low whistle. The one where shes wearing the bikini.
Youre a sad, sad man, Ramsey told his friend with a laugh, even as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and swiped through the screen. He shot Diego a look. You want to see?
Not really. He figured if youd seen one guys old lady, youd seen them all. But Diego was trying to build a bridge here. So he was already trying to think up polite comments as he took the phone.
Hellooo.
Diego was pretty sure there was an ocean in that shot somewhere. He was vaguely aware of a kid on the screen, but only because he was blocking the view of the blonde.
The woman was stunning. Hair more gold than blond blew in the breeze, the long strands covering part of a perfectly sculpted face. Full lips smiled wide, accented by cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. But it was her eyes that grabbed him. Too dark to tell the color in the photo, they were round with an exotic tilt echoed by the dusky gold of her skin. And oh, man, that skin. It covered a body meant for hot fantasies. She was made up of long, lean lines and lush curves.
For the first time, he envied a man his woman.
Shes a looker was all he said, though, as he handed the phone back.
Id do her in watercolor. Shes got that mermaid thing going there, Prescott murmured, his attention on the paper he was scrawling on. It took a second for the silence to hit him, then another for him to realize what hed said. I meant Id paint her. Not, you know...
They shared a good-natured laugh as Prescott grimaced.
I just do her, Ramsey joked, slapping Prescott on the shoulder. His smile turned possessive as he looked at the picture again before tucking his phone into his pocket.
Thought she was your ex, Jared chimed in, taking his beer from the server without taking his eyes off Ramsey. Isnt that the way of it? She took your kid and split? Dumped you, right?
Really? Diegos attention perked up at that bit of news, his body doing a happy salute to the idea of a woman that hot being free and clear. Except she wasnt, he reminded himself. As much as it might suckand oh, boy, did itRamsey had staked prior claim. Whether he and the gorgeous blonde were a couple or not, she was still his.
Ramsey clearly thought so, too. His blue eyes chilled to lethal ice, his sneer blade sharp.
As usual, Lansky, youve got your details wrong. I left Harper because my career had to be a priority, not the other way around. And given that I cant take my kid with me while Im out saving the worldand because Im a hell of a nice guyI let her take care of him. She appreciates that, and is pretty damned good at showing just how much on my visitations.
Is that how you want to tell it? Jareds expression called bullshit.