Invincible (The Trident Code) Page 3

  Whoa. That was heavy. This chick believed she willed me to save her, like some divine prophecy. I swallowed hard. This was getting intense. But I liked intense.

  “You told the right man. And I’m glad you showed me your tattoo. Your parents have it plastered all over their website.”

  She smirked. “To think my parents grounded me when they found out I got it. I used my fake ID and went to one of those tattoo shops in Pacific Beach. When they first saw it, they told me that I was an embarrassment to our good family name and that they were ashamed of me.”

  Pretty harsh. Her parents seemed like pretentious jerks. I mean all eighteen-year-old girls experimented with their clothes, hair, makeup, piercings, tattoos. But her laughter made me smile. To think she could still find humor during her hell showed me how resilient she was. “I noticed it the second you showed it to me. I immediately thought, ‘Why would this Caribbean hooker have a tattoo of Arvid the Alien on her ankle?’”

  “Well, I wasn’t sure you were paying attention to my ankle.” That made me feel like a grade-A asshole. “I figured if I did a good job,” she went on, “then maybe you would believe me.”

  Was this girl serious? I expected her to be mellow, high, maybe even mental. But she was teasing me. I felt my pants get tighter and decided to change the subject.

  “How many men secure this place?”

  “Well Jose, who you met. And Berto also. A few other guys come around but I don’t think they’re armed.”

  “I’ve taken men a thousand times more dangerous than them. Annie, I’m going to get you out of here, but I can’t do it today.” Her head started shaking but I continued. “I need to case the entire building, the surrounding area, get a car, find a safe house for you. Bring a few of my buddies. I need you to act normal. Do what they say. My ship is leaving Curaçao tonight for a mission, but I will come back for you, I promise.”

  She pulled a fistful of her hair and rocked her head back on the cot. “No, please don’t leave me here. Take me with you. I know you can.” She rubbed her skin.

  Hell if I was just going to lay there and watch her rock herself back and forth, like she was in some mental institute. She needed someone to comfort her, hold her, tell her that her nightmare would be over soon. I took her in my arms and flipped her on top of me. She nestled her head on my chest. “I won’t let you down, Annie. I will get you out of here and back to your family. I wish I could save you today but I can’t. My ship is heading out on a mission. I promise you that I’ll spend every moment figuring how to get you back to your family.”

  Her breath quickened. “Please, Patrick. Please, take me now. I need to go home. I’m going to die here. I can’t take another day in this life. I’ll do anything you ask.”

  She attempted to kiss my neck but I pulled away and sat up, holding her to my side.

  “I have to leave. But I have something for you.” I rummaged through my pocket and retrieved the necklace, and placed it around her neck.

  She gasped as if it was expensive jewelry, not a cheap fake gold chain with a starfish charm. I hoped if her pimps figured it had no value, she’d be more likely to be allowed to keep it.

  I stroked her forehead. “Every time you look at it, know that I’m working on extracting you. You aren’t invisible—you’re invincible. I know you’re alive. I know your name. You’ve survived this long and I won’t let you down.” My pulse raced and I resisted the urge to kiss her lips. Her vulnerability was like a sword in the chest and a shot to my dick. I wanted to both protect her and fuck her and it was a combination that could get both of us killed.

  Her voice cracked. “Please, take me. I’ll do anything. Don’t leave me here. I shouldn’t be here. You don’t understand—”

  “I’m sorry, Annie. I have to go.”

  “Patrick!” She started looking desperate, clutching me now. God, don’t freak out. Don’t give it all away! “If for some reason I never see you again, promise me you’ll tell Chris that I didn’t kill myself. And my parents that I love them.”

  I firmly moved her hands off my chest. “You’ll be able to say whatever you want to your boyfriend and your parents yourself. Soon.” I never made promises I couldn’t keep. I couldn’t face her family if I couldn’t save her. Or her boyfriend. I could just imagine it—your girlfriend gave me head in a brothel but I didn’t save her. Not going to happen.

  Her body was shaking. “What if I’m not here when you come back? What if they trade me?”

  Fuck it. I pulled her to my mouth. Our lips touched, soft and tender. She needed solace, not passion. “Babe, I will find you. No matter what.”

  “My word is my bond.”

  She kissed me back, a desperate kiss. Her mouth hot and wet. She didn’t taste bitter and dry like I’d expected her to. No. She was salty and fruity, like a strawberry margarita. I wanted to drink her up, taste every inch of her body, pleasure her instead of forcing her to service me. I wanted to see a warm flush wash over her face and make her glow just for me. To make her come and scream out my name, and tell her that she’d be safe and never scared again. I wanted to protect her and promise her that as long as I lived, no man other than me would ever touch her again.

  Instead I pushed her off of me, and rolled off the cot. I pressed one hundred dollars into her hand, opened the door, then walked out of her room, out of the brothel. Staying any longer would arouse suspicion and I couldn’t fuck this up for Annie.

  Every step I took away from her tore me up inside. Why should I be safe when she was stuck here turning tricks? Hadn’t she been through enough hell for a lifetime? I should’ve knocked out her pimp and carried Annie to safety. But I needed to be patient to ensure the success of my mission.

  “I stand ready to bring the full spectrum of combat power to bear in order to achieve my mission and the goals established by my country.”

  4.

  I paced around the living quarters of our ship, which was on its way to our next mission. But I couldn’t even focus on anything but saving Annie.

  I pulled Vic and Kyle into an empty rec room away from the rest of our Team.

  Vic sat down in a chair. “Dude, what’s going on with you?”

  I stared at the drab gray walls, hesitating to tell them.

  Kyle glared at me. “Spill it, Walsh.” Kyle was a complete badass. He was one of only a handful of African-American men on the teams and unlike Vic and me, he was an officer. He’d been a star linebacker in the NFL, and gave up all that fame and money to join the Teams. There was a saying once on our recruiting posters, something like, “He’ll never win MVP, never get a Super Bowl ring—some heroes don’t play games.” Kyle was the living embodiment of that quote.

  I didn’t want to speak. So I logged into the common computer and pulled up a website on Annie.

  Kyle focused on the screen. “Yeah, Annie Hamilton. Everyone knows about her. Fine as fuck. Got drunk and fell overboard on a cruise ship out here. I think her stoner boyfriend pushed her over. She’s from San Diego. What’s your point?”

  I took a deep breath. “She didn’t fall overboard on the cruise and her boyfriend is innocent; she gave me a blowjob last night at a brothel.”

  Kyle laughed. “Sure she did.”

  Vic shook his head at me, probably not sure whether or not I was joking. “Fuck you, man. She’s someone’s daughter. That’s not funny.”

  “I’m not laughing. She was fucking kidnapped and forced into the white sex slavery. I went to a brothel last night, and this chick gave me head. Afterwards, she said her name was Annie Hamilton. I thought she was trying to con me, but it’s fucking her: hazel eyes, Californian accent. And she made a point to show me her shoulder scar and ankle tattoo. Here look at the pics.” I handed Kyle my phone and he scrolled through the pictures while Vic looked on.

  “I went back today just to be one hundred percent sure. I’d fucking bet my Budweiser on it.”

  The room fell silent. We didn’t joke about “The Budweiser,” our trident, our
Navy Insignia. It was pinned on every Navy SEAL, after completing the BUD/S training,

  “My Trident is a symbol of honor and heritage. Bestowed upon me by the heroes that have gone before, it embodies the trust of those I have sworn to protect. By wearing the Trident I accept the responsibility of my chosen profession and way of life. It is a privilege that I must earn every day.”

  Kyle put his hand on my shoulder. “You’re serious. You fucking think you found Annie Hamilton in a Curaçao whorehouse?”

  “She’s pretty wrecked, but alive. A heroin junkie barely holding on. It’s a miracle she’s survived these last five years. Now how are we going to get her out?”

  Vic shook his head. “You fucked a hooker? That’s low even for you, Walsh. Go tell Lt. Marshall. You realize you’re going to get charged for solicitation.”

  “Shut your fucking cock holster. Who the fuck do you think you are telling me what to do? You’re not my sea daddy. Of course, I know I can get charged, but I don’t give a shit. We need to save her. We’re fucking SEALs. No one else is going to do it. Don’t you see? I was meant to be on this deployment, this SEAL Team. To rescue her. But we aren’t going to tell Lt. Marshall—or anyone else on the Team, for that matter. The Navy would have to go through the proper channels, CIA, FBI, local Curaçao police. It’s too risky. There have been sightings of her before and no one did shit. I’m going to rescue her. You going to help me? Or you going to fucking rat my ass out to Lt. Marshall?”

  Kyle didn’t hesitate. “I’m in.”

  Vic bit his lip. “So am I.” I knew Vic would help, even though he liked to follow protocol.

  Kyle put his hand on my back. “Yup. Not even worried. These dumbasses are jokes compared to the guys we usually deal with.”

  He was right. I’d been in firefights with the Taliban, overtaken Somali pirates, and offed members of drug cartels. A low grade Caribbean white-slavery ring didn’t scare me.

  “We train for war and fight to win.”

  We had three weeks at sea to come up with a plan before we arrived back in Curaçao. She’d survived five years. I’d never forgive myself if I couldn’t bring her home to her family, home to the United States. What was the point of being called a hero if I couldn’t save her? It didn’t matter that rescuing her wasn’t an official mission. She was my mission.

  “We expect to lead and be led. In the absence of orders I will take charge, lead my teammates and accomplish the mission. I lead by example in all situations.”

  5.

  After three long weeks at sea, we would finally be returning to Curaçao. Tomorrow was game day.

  I was glad that Kyle and Vic had my back. That’s the thing with Team guys, we’re more than brothers, we were bonded for life.

  We headed down to the ship gym to get a last workout in before tomorrow. Adrenaline pumped through my veins. I needed to control my emotions. I wanted to kill these motherfuckers and wouldn’t think twice before I popped them off.

  We’d gone over the layout from the diagram I’d sketched when I returned from the brothel that night. We weren’t too worried about smuggling her out. The plan was to head over to the brothel at night, posing as clients. Once I was inside the room with Annie, Kyle and Vic would take down the pimp until I smuggled her out of there. We weren’t going to use force unless necessary.

  “We demand discipline. We expect innovation. The lives of my teammates and the success of our mission depend on me – my technical skill, tactical proficiency, and attention to detail. My training is never complete.”

  After we rescued her, we were going to detox her from heroin, and make sure she didn’t have any STDs. Vic was a medic. We’d arranged to borrow a yacht from a former Team guy who ran a charter service down in the Caribbean. Kyle would be our captain. All three of us had taken two weeks leave to rescue her, get her healthy, and take her to the embassy. There was no way I was going to send a drug addict to the embassy. Her parents had missed her for five years; they deserved to see their little girl as healthy as she could be.

  Kyle smacked me on the head. “Shit, man. I don’t see why I can’t get laid with one of the other whores first and then we can save your girlfriend. I’ll be quick.”

  I smacked him on the head. “Yeah, your ex mentioned your little problem. But sorry, not going to risk it. And she’s not my girlfriend.”

  Vic shook his head, disgusted with us both. Kyle and I partied with the best of them, but poor Vic still hadn’t learned his lesson after his ex-wife had cheated on him. He harbored some fucked-up fantasy that he’d find a girl to be faithful to him when he was away. Some delusion that he might be able to have a marriage that defied the Navy SEALs infamous eighty percent divorce rate. Optimistic bastard.

  “Whatever you say, man.” Vic laughed. “I know you. You’ve been obsessed with her since you met her. She’s all you’ve talked about for the past three weeks. Once you save her, she’ll worship you. You two will end up getting married. Mark my word. She’s from San Diego anyway—how convenient. Plus, you said yourself she gave great head. Sounds like a match made in hell week if you ask me.”

  “Fuck you, Vic. I’m not saving her because I love her, I don’t even know her. I’m saving her because it’s the right thing to do.” But Vic’s words resonated with me. Annie was all I thought about. And though I hadn’t had more than a cheap sexual encounter and an awkward conversation with her, over the past month I’d learned everything I could about her— I’d watched childhood videos of her and her family, seen interviews of her parents crying and begging for her safe return. She’d wanted to be a teacher and had volunteered with a dog rescue. And though at first I saw her as just another woman who could satisfy me, now I couldn’t fight the desire to see her again. Even if it would be to watch her walk away in the end.

  But I could never make any woman happy. I didn't understand why so many men felt the constant need to make pleasing women their sole mission in life.

  But I wasn’t like that. It went deeper than that. I loved women. All women. My mom taught me never to disrespect a woman. I’d given my heart to one woman once, and she gutted me. All the times I was stuck in some hole in Afghanistan, dreaming about her, to think she was screwing around on me. I didn’t need that complication, my job was stressful enough. I needed my home life to be peaceful, because my line of work was anything but. The only men in the Teams who had successful marriages had women who were completely strong, honest, and loyal. It was hard to build that type of relationship when I was never home. So I chose to just be single until I retired. But I was still a man and had my needs. It didn't help that I was plagued by the memory of Annie’s mouth on my cock and her hands gripping my thighs as I came.

  But enough of that relationship bullshit. I had to be steadfast—no matter what, I could not allow myself to give her any hope that we could be together.

  I couldn't wait to get this the fuck over with. I tried not to think about what would happen after I deserted her at the embassy. If her family would treat her right, if her friends could look her in the face and keep from cringing. It wasn't my problem. She wasn't my problem. I would do my job and get her back to safety and then I would get the fuck out of there. I’d seen what the media did to these rediscovered treasures—they stalked them like celebrities. I could never be part of that media circus, not with my job, my life.

  I’d fulfill my duty to her, keep my promise. But after that, she was on her own. She had a family waiting for her anyway. I could never fit into her life and she could never be a part of mine. She’d just have to forget she ever met me, just like I hoped she would forget all the torture she endured. And I could go back to living my life the way I liked to.

  Alone.

  6.

  Our carrier pulled into port at sunrise. Had this been Annie’s last sight before she had been taken? Her desire to photograph its beauty had cost her freedom. Today, I would liberate her. I couldn’t wait to see the look on her face once I’d saved her. All the training I’d gone
through in my life had prepared me for this mission. And if we're being honest, I relished that feeling of accomplishment. It was the only thing in my life that made me feel better.

  Vic, Kyle, and I left the ship and headed to the private dock to get our yacht.

  We made our way through the maze of scuba tours, glass bottom boats, and moonlit cruises. A middle-aged bearded guy with a ponytail and a beer belly met us at the dock, dangling the keys.

  “You must be Dave.” Kyle shook his hand, and Vic and I followed suit.

  “Nice to meet you. The Cleito is all cleaned up and ready for you.”

  I glanced at Vic and Kyle. The Cleito. In Plato’s myth of Atlantis, Cleito bore Poseidon ten sons. An obscure Navy SEAL trident reference, but we all understood the significance of the name instantly.

  Dave handed me the keys. “So what are your plans? I know some great scuba spots.”

  I placed the keys in my pocket. “Thanks, man. We’re just going to relax, go fishing, snorkel, maybe head to Aruba.”

  Dave glared at our seabags, filled with our night-ops equipment. He was no dummy; former old-school frogman. He probably sensed that we were planning something other than checking out the local tropical fish...at least not the kind that swam in the sea. “Well, I’m happy to show you around. Anything you need.” He placed his hand on my shoulder. “Please, don’t hesitate to ask.”