Chapter One
“Dalton!” BB sat up a little straighter at the sound of his name being barked from the doorway by his commanding officer. “In my office. Now.”
“Yes, sir.” Oh, shit. What the hell had he done to get called into the commander’s office right before a team meeting? There was no way this could be good.
He’d arrived on time for the o-eight-hundred meeting.
In fact, he hadn’t even been the last one in the door. That honor belonged to his teammate Jack Gordon. BB knew that Jack’s girlfriend was visiting, so it wasn’t a surprise he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed after getting not a hell of a lot of sleep.
BB tried to ignore the raised eyebrows and interested looks of the other guys as he rose and made his way into the commander’s office.
Damn it. It just figured he’d somehow get into trouble right before his leave started. He was supposed to go home to his family in New York for the holidays. As he walked into the commander’s office, feeling very confused, he hoped he’d still be waking up Christmas morning in his old bed.
The fact that he found a woman sitting in the chair opposite the commander only compounded his confusion.
Now, if he’d been one of the guys on base who hung out at the local bar until they had to crawl home, he might wonder if he’d had the pleasure of this woman’s company, perhaps gotten a little wild and then forgotten about it.
But he wasn’t that kind of guy. It was a rare day he even had an alcoholic drink. He thought for a moment.
His last drink, and it was only one, had been to celebrate the return of Jack’s brother Jimmy to active duty after he’d been injured on an op. And that was months ago.
Besides, this woman looked less like a barfly and more like said barfly’s lawyer.
He stood at attention and waited until the commander indicated he should sit in the other chair.
“Yes, sir.” BB evaluated his commander’s mood. Not good, but he’d seen worse.
It was almost an amused annoyance that came across in the commander’s voice as he continued, “Central Command…”
Uh, oh. That was never a good start to a sentence. The commander hated Central Command.
“…has decided to begin recruiting its special operatives from the civilian sector.”
BB raised an eyebrow. He himself had been a Navy SEAL when he’d been recruited for one of the Special Task Forces formed after the terrorist attacks on September eleventh. These units were comprised of the best of the best from all branches of the military. But civilians?
The commander sent a paper sailing across the desk at him. “Read.”
It was an NBC News article dated earlier that year. It looked like it had been printed off of the internet. The headline read, “ Navy SEALs: Demand for specialized units grow. ”
He silently read on.
“Navy SEALs, counted among the best commando forces in the world, are at the forefront of the Pentagon’s war on terror as modern warfare continues to evolve…”
Nothing BB didn’t already know. He skimmed down farther.
“In the next several years, the Pentagon wants to add nearly 400 more to the approximately 2,600 SEALs now in service. But with a 60 percent dropout rate, the SEALs have had to turn to a more efficient method of identifying and recruiting potentially successful recruits. As befitting an unconventional fighting force, the SEALs have come up with a creative recruitment tactic looking beyond the Navy for potential recruits. It sends SEAL mentors to high schools, air shows and sporting events to seek out potential candidates.”
BB read, amazed. He skimmed the rest and learned they’d even sent a SEAL to compete in an Ironman Triathlon in Hawaii to recruit from among the athletes.
At least now he knew what was up the commander’s butt. What he didn’t get was how it involved him.
Yeah, he was in excellent physical condition, but so were the other guys. And each one had their own special skills that had led to their
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