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Harper could see it was an idyllic life, and he knew Hamish was thinking about how lucky these kids were and how he absolutely wanted to make sure that nothing ever got in the way of their happiness. He turned and caught Harper watching him.
“I got too much invested here, Harper. I mean, these guys are getting to the age where they’re going to be leaving the house pretty soon. I only have so much time, and already being on Team 5, I’m gone nearly two hundred days a year. That’s way more than we used to, remember?”
“Yeah, the world is blowing up big time. No question about that. But what if we had it set up so that we had support? So we didn’t go to some of the more dangerous places? We actually have first-class weaponry and intel. We just need to do the infiltration quietly, but with the right to defend ourselves, of course. What if it wasn’t like we were jumping into huge battles with the whole platoon? We are just going in to extricate the key players, maybe the top one or two, and then get out?”
Harper could see Hamish was seriously thinking about it. Part of him felt guilty for tempting him so.
“Of course, it’s different for me. I don’t have a family like you do, and that’s something you have to think about. The price could be too high for you.”
Just then, Hamish’s wife came bounding down the stairs, followed by the girls.
“Oh, hi, Harper. I didn’t know you were here.”
“Babe, you were fast asleep when he texted me. It’s just one night, okay? He’s got a couple things to do here, and then he’ll be going back home.”
“Don’t be silly. Harper is welcome here anytime. It’s okay by us, isn’t it, girls?” She turned, and all three of the girls giggled, Sasha putting her hands up to cover her braces while she did so.
Hamish stood, wrapped his huge tatted arms around his wife’s pretty body, gave her a peck on the cheek, and waved goodbye. He also gave a kiss to Sasha.
As they began to file out of the front door, Hamish shouted, “By the way, girls, remember, you’re not nice girls. You play tough, you play dirty, and if they give you any crap, you let them have it back double, you hear?”
Sasha laughed as the other two girls chimed in. “Yes, Sir.”
“Love those girls,” Hamish whispered, showing more emotion to Harper than he’d ever show the ladies in his life.
“My point, exactly, Hamish. Hell, you’re practically man of the year down here. I’m embarrassed to even bring it up.”
“Well, let me think about it. You meeting with Kyle today?”
“I am.”
“So maybe I’ll tagalong then. Would you mind that?”
“I don’t mind at all. Can I ask you another favor?”
Hamish nodded his head. “Sure thing.”
“Unless I can’t see Kyle until late in the day, would you take me back to the airport afterwards so I can catch a four o’clock home?”
“You got it.”
Chapter 9
Harper pushed theprospectus across the table and into Kyle’s hands resting there.
“What’s this?” his LPO asked.
“Look it over, Kyle. It’s what they wanted to talk to me about.”
Harper and Hamish sat across the table, side by side, facing Kyle. It was second breakfast for Harper. The Rusty Scupper was a favorite hangout of all the SEAL Teams in Coronado. Informal meetings would be conducted here, celebratory beers when someone got engaged or married or had a new baby. Even divorces were worthy of celebration, sometimes most joyful ones. All three SEALs had spent hundreds of hours with their brothers both inside and outside on the patio by the firepit.
As Kyle fingered the pages, Harper scanned the walls of the restaurant and bar. Covering every square inch available, both inside the bar, the main dining area, and the hallway leading to the back room where they sat were pictures of fallen brothers, as well as pictures of high-level targets they either captured or killed, campaign flags, and memorabilia from their various missions. A small Polaroid picture of a once head of state, infamous for capturing and torturing American warriors, as well as his own people, taken the day they found him in his underwear in a tunnel was still held up by a tack hammered all the way to the hilt.
Most of the photos or plaques had no explanation beneath them, because they weren’t displayed for the general public. They were used to celebrate and leave a marker by various Team Guys who felt it was necessary to do so.
Over the bar was a long line of eight-by-ten glossy photos, usually taken on graduation day, SEALs in their brand-new white uniforms with their shiny new Tridents, wearing pillbox caps or officer attire. These were the ones who never made it home, and unlike the other pictures, their names were posted underneath. Everyone who sat at the bar got a good chance to study all the handsome young faces of guys who gave their all.
Just so no one would forget.
