SEAL the Deal Read Online Free

should be heavily armed with an HK416 assault rifle
right now, leaping from a helicopter into enemy territory.
    Instead, the Navy expected him to stand in
front of a room of green midshipmen droning on about the basics of leadership
and ethics.
    Ethics. What an irony, considering the
unethical backstab dealt by his Commanding Officer that had landed Mick here.
    At least he was here for Mrs. B when Doc
died so suddenly. Don and Edith Baker had been his sponsors during his plebe
year at the Academy more than a decade ago. They were like parents to him over
the years. When Doc died, Mick feared he’d never see Mrs. B smile again.
    Then along comes that woman at the funeral
and some story about stargazer lilies, and Mick saw the light return to Mrs.
B’s eyes.
    That must be why he was so attracted to
her. It was simply gratitude he felt for her.
    Satisfied with his reasoning, he gave a
slight nod to his reflection in the mirror. “Gratitude and a nice ass,” he said
to himself as he put on his cap and headed out the door.
    Stepping from his historic townhome on the
Academy campus, the “Yard” as midshipmen called it, he glanced warily around
him out of habit, still not used to being able to walk around on a work day
without his SIG Sauer pistol at his side and the weight of body armor on his
back.
    It was a beautiful campus, and a hell of a
lot prettier than his surroundings during his constant deployments. Being a
naval history buff, he might enjoy a little time here in Annapolis. But two
years? He vowed to do whatever it took to get his career back on track before
then. Even with his injuries from his last mission barely healed, he wanted to
be back with his team. They were probably back in Afghanistan or maybe off the
Horn of Africa right now.
    And here he was, he thought with regret as
he passed a mob of tourists being led by a guide in a colonial era costume. May
as well be stationed at Disneyworld from where he was standing. He wasn’t even
armed.
    What is the point of having a job in which
he isn’t armed? Why even bother qualifying as expert on every weapon from
pistol to machine gun, if the most dangerous thing he can carry right now is a
can of Raid?
    A brisk ten-minute walk across the parade
fields led Mick to the door of an unimpressive office he shared with a
Lieutenant slated to teach nuclear engineering. The damn kid looked so content
sitting behind his computer, Mick momentarily hated him.
    The Lieutenant quickly rose from his seat
at attention when he saw Mick. “Sir.”
    “Lieutenant, if we’re going to share an
office all year, let’s forget the formalities.”
    The Lieutenant smiled. “That extra stripe
on your shoulder board tells me to stand up, Sir.”
    “Yeah, well, this extra stripe reminds me
that I shouldn’t even be teaching. Don’t remind me of that by jumping to
attention every time I come into the room.”
    “Done, Sir.”
    “Mick,” Mick corrected. “Mick Riley.”
    “Got it. Mick. Jack Falcone.” The
Lieutenant offered with a firm handshake. “So what are you doing here, then?”
Jack asked, glancing at the Navy Cross Mick had pinned to his chest. “You
should be writing your own ticket now. In San Diego or out in the field, I’d
think.”
    “I pissed off my Commanding Officer after
my last mission. I was up for orders. He made a phone call or two, and here I
am.”
    Jack let out a breath. “Hope it was worth
it. Pissing off your CO, I mean.”
    “Probably not,” Mick muttered, wanting to
change the subject. Truth was, he couldn’t regret telling off Captain Shey that
day after the Kandahar mission. If the Captain hadn’t ordered the Blackhawk to
change extraction points when it came under fire, Sully would still be in the
SEALs rather than sent home to his wife and kids without a leg. Mick tugged at
his collar. “It’s hot as hell in here. Don’t we have air conditioning?”
    “I thought you SEALs were tough,” Jack smirked.
    “Yeah, I can kill a man in two