Page 6 of Love for Thea

Marjorie Adams clapped her hands together with a resounding thwack, her face alight with delight. A hearty laugh rumbled up from her chest. “Now that’s a girl who knows how to handle her men! Orion, you hang onto her!”

The last ripples of laughter and good-natured teasing faded, the topic of Orion’s name effectively closed by Marjorie’s pronouncement. Grizzly stepped back from his team, who were still absorbing the shift in dynamics, and noticed Carole standing by the hallway threshold. She wasn’t laughing. Her brow was deeply furrowed, her eyes fixed on the illuminated screen of her smartphone.

The smile faded from Grizzly’s face. He wove through the crowded kitchen, slipping his arm around her shoulders. “Hey. You okay? You look like you just lost a puppy.”

Carole looked up, worry etching lines around her eyes. “It’s Thea.”

Grizzly’s protective instincts flared instantly. “Is she alright?”

“I don’t know,” Carole said, her voice tight. “She’s been completely out of pocket for three days. No texts, no calls. She never misses our check-ins, Ben. Especially not with Mom and Dad’s party coming up.”

“She’s up at that forestry cabin, right? Cell service is garbage up there.”

“She has a satellite rig,” Carole countered, tapping her phone screen. “It’s dead. I’ve tried pinging it half a dozen times. The last thing I received from her was an email about some strange anomalies she was observing.”

Grizzly’s jaw tightened. The warm, chaotic noise of his family’s kitchen suddenly felt miles away. His mind instantly shifted gears, analyzing terrain, threat levels, and logistics. He looked out the kitchen window toward the jagged, timber-lined ridges of Yellowstone looming in the distance.

“Is she still researching Grid C5?” he asked quietly.

Carole nodded. “Yeah. I’ve got a bad feeling.”

Grizzly squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, his eyes hardening with quiet resolve. “Don’t worry. I’m going to hike up there and check on her.”

“Ben, wait,” Carole said, worry flashing across her face. “You shouldn’t go alone. What if it’s something dangerous?”

“I can handle myself,” he reassured her. “But I appreciate your concern. I’ll let the team know, and I’ll take one of them with me.”

Carole opened her mouth to protest, but Grizzly felt a sense of urgency rise within him. He could not shake the feeling that something was wrong with Thea, and he knew that the longer he delayed, the more chance there was of something bad happening.

He turned to find his teammates still in the kitchen, their earlier merriment fading as they noticed the tension in the air. “Hey, guys, we need to talk.”

The SEALs gathered around him, their playful banter quieted. “What’s up?” Picasso asked, scanning Grizzly’s expression for any hints of concern.

“I’m heading to Thea’s cabin,” Grizzly said. “She’s Carole’s best friend and an environmental researcher. She usually keeps a low profile and is very reliable, but Carole hasn’t heard from her in three days, and her sat-link isn’t working. She was planning to be here for the party this weekend, so this silence isn’t like her. I’m worried she might be in trouble.”

Hurricane’s brow furrowed. “What kind of trouble?”

Grizzly hesitated just a moment. “I’m not exactly sure. It’s a gut feeling, but silence from someone like Thea raises red flags. Her cabin’s out in the sticks, which makes it even more worrying.”

Falcon crossed his arms, his face turning stone serious. “You really think it’s smart to go solo? You know how crazy it gets out there. And hello, we’re supposed to be on vacation.”

Grizzly nodded, his tone steady and straightforward. “Exactly my point. Which is why I need one of you tagging along. Buddy system, safety first.”

“Count me in!” Reef piped up all eager. “I’m riding point with you, no worries.”

Hurricane raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Woah, man, no hesitation at all! What’s this, trying to slip away from the civilians already?”

Picasso shook his head with a half-smile. “Put the radios in your bags just in case of an emergency. We’re supposed to be off the clock.”

“Thanks, man.” Grizzly nodded toward Reef. “Let’s gear up quick. We’ll take Dad’s old F-350; it’ll handle the rutted access roads better than the rental, and it won’t stand out as much if anyone is watching the trails. Do you have your go-bag in the SUV?”

“Always,” Reef said, his laid-back surfer grin disappearing as his tactical brain took over. “I’ve got my primary kit and a basic medical setup.”

Grizzly turned to the rest of the team. “Picasso, Falcon, Hurricane—strip what you can from your bags. Extra MREs, water tabs, spare comms. We need to keep this quiet; don’t want to worry my parents. My brothers will pick up on the vibes, but let’s keep the noise floor low.”

The team moved with silent, practiced efficiency. They handed off the gear in the shadows of the hallway, a hand-to-hand transfer that took less than sixty seconds. Grizzly stuffed the extra supplies into his rucksack, his mind already six steps ahead on the trail to C5.

He headed for the mudroom to grab the keys to the F-350 when a shadow stepped out from the pantry.