Zane: A Navy SEAL Romantic Suspense Read online

  ZANE

  A Navy Seal Romantic Suspense

  Autumn Gunn

  Copyright © Autumn Gunn

  All rights reserved.

  Includes bonus books: Jax + Cole

  Although I served in the U.S. Marine Corps for four amazing years and I surely draw on those experiences whether subconsciously or consciously when I pen these stories, I must say the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended. I’ll leave it up to your imagination to determine if that’s just lawyer speak or not.

  My books do not come with any digital rights management. You are welcome to read them, download them, and store them on any devices you might have. I want you to enjoy them on your terms. This book is for you. If someone you know, or even don’t know, is interested in my stories please direct them to Amazon.com.

  In the Marines I was surrounded by men. It’s a diverse and fun place, but as you can imagine there’s a lot of testosterone there. It’s OK. I loved it. I’ve been told plenty of times I think a lot like a man. It’s probably why it’s more comfortable for me to write in first person from a man’s point of view.

  Without further ado I give you Zane: A Navy Seal Romantic Suspense. I hope you enjoy it and thank you for your support.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to the American soldier and their support teams. When their country calls, they go. Willingly.

  Also a hat tip to our U.K. brethren. I’ve had the pleasure of knowing some of you. Thanks for showing me what dry humor and sarcasm are really all about.

  Men and women in uniform take our place on the battlefield. Everything at risk.

  Stay safe.

  Thank you.

  We love you.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Bonus Books

  Jax

  Cole

  Chapter 1

  I could see the commandos circle their flimsy rubber raft. Three quick circles in succession were all it took. All three passengers overboard. I could hear screaming and yelling. The passengers terrified for their lives. The commandos barking orders. They were fast and efficient. They scooped up the passengers and their luggage in nets. The nets fired from underneath their skiff like torpedoes. It wasn’t the rudimentary type of skiff I had seen the Somali pirates using seven years earlier. It was more advanced. Much more. More than enough to do the job. It looked like a professional job. It was time to intervene.

  I slowly raised my M4A1 carbine rifle to my AN/PVS-14 Monocular Night Vision Device. There was no way to procure a helmet on such short notice. I opted for a crude homemade head harness put together with tie-down straps and foam. Bungee cords secured it in place. It would have to do.

  The first commando was at the bow of the skiff. There was a chop to the sea. It looked like a washing machine on spin cycle. A 25 mile per hour crosswind between me and the target. Absolutely perfect for the windsurfers who would be out in full force this afternoon. Absolutely not perfect for a Navy SEAL vet who’s looking to terminate two commando pirates at 0317 hours in the Aegean Sea.

  I had promised DEA Agents Bill Frost and Claire Abbey there wouldn’t be any casualties. As I looked down the barrel of my rifle I wasn’t sure I was going to keep that promise. There is no such thing as close enough when it comes to taking low percentage shots in high stress environments.

  I went through my mental checklist from SEAL Sniper School. Sight picture. Sight alignment. Breathing. Grip. Trigger pull. Those are the fundamentals. Check.

  I made a conscious note of my natural breathing cycle. Don’t hold your breath. Time the shot. Take it at the precise moment of the natural respiratory pause at the bottom of your exhale. You don’t want your breathing, or lack of, to affect the shot’s elevation. Check.

  I thought about my natural point of aim. After my sights were on the first target I gently rocked my body back in forth until I was naturally aligned with the target. Check.

  That’s all first phase of SEAL Sniper School. Second phase is stalking. Stealth and concealment. A jet ski isn’t normally considered very stealthy or concealed. Often they’re painted like exotic sports cars. Make sure everybody sees that you have one. I had sprayed this one down with a matte finish. It was about as stealthy as it was going to get. The night sky was cooperating. There were some clouds, but they were inconsistent. It was better than nothing.

  Speed kills. You can shoot a sniper rifle faster by slowing down. My resting heart rate was thirty-seven beats per minute. As I watched the commandos bark orders I calculated. I was at thirty-eight.

  The commando at the bow was facing me. He was pointing with his hand and arm, but his body was still. I took in a breath. Let it out. Took in another breath. Let it out. Pull. He buckled in half. Collapsed backwards. Over the side and into the big drink. The commando on the stern swung around. Reached for his pistol. Too late. He went back and over like the man before him.

  I fired up the jet ski and raced over to the scene. The three passengers from the raft were now treading water in the frigid night sea. The first two with life jackets. They were a boy and girl, but they looked similar. Maybe brother and sister. The third had a sinister look to him. Very different facial features.

  I threw a life preserver on a rope to the girl first. She was two yards away. She grabbed it for dear life. A few quick pulls on the rope and I was lifting her onto the ski.

  “Are you OK?” I asked.

  “Yes. Please help my brother!”

  She pointed to the boy who appeared a few years older than her. I threw him the life preserver. As I pulled him in I turned back to the girl.

  “Refugees?” I asked.

  “Yes. Syria.”

  I got her brother to the side and brought him onboard. The third man was still swimming in place. He looked shocked, but OK. I threw him the life preserver.

  “Who’s he?” I asked.

  “He’s,” the boy began. He hesitated a moment before beginning again, “He’s helping us. Can you please help him?”

  “Yes.” I began pulling him to the boat and turned back to the girl. “How do you know him?”

  “He’s a friend of the family,” she said as her eye contact went from strong to none at all. I didn’t know what to make of it, but knew something smelled fishy. I got him to the ski.

  “Put your hands behind your back?” He did it without any fuss. I think he was happy to just be alive. I zip tied his hands.

  “Where’s your luggage?”

  Their eyes scanned the water. “There,” the brother and sister said in unison. It was floating no more than three meters away.

  “Only that one?”

  “Yes,” the both said.

  I looked down at the commandos. They were floating face down. I had shot them less than thirty-five seconds ago. Now I had a jet ski with two refugees and a very questionable extra. I’m a huge guy. Luckily they were all thin and none over five foot nine.

  “There’re too many of us for this ski. We’re gonna try it anyways. Everybody just hold still and we’ll be in Kos in ten minutes. We’ll sort this out there.”

  I swerved right and reached down to grab their bag as we coasted past. It weighted at least sixty pounds. Light considering it probably contained all their worldly possessions. I stowed it as best I could.

  No one said anything on the ride into Kos. I saw a Greek Coast Guard
vessel patrolling so I cut the engine and waited for it to pass. I could feel the girl behind me shaking. She must have been freezing. No one spoke. It took the vessel less than a minute to lumber by. It seemed like an eternity. I headed towards shore perpendicular to the direction from which the vessel had come. As we approached land I shut off the engine and we coasted the last few yards right to the shore. I put my index finger over my lips so the passengers would remain silent. I looked each one in the eye and then interlocked my fingers. I put my interlocked hands around the boy’s neck from behind. Then I backed away. I motioned for his sister could take the position I had just occupied. I moved the cuffed man to the front and motioned for the boy to lock his hands around the zip-tied man’s neck. I’m sure they felt more like hostages than refugees. It was by design.

  I grabbed their luggage and guided them to a café not more than fifty yards from shore. It was chosen due to its stealth location. No drunken tourists bumping into us on their way home from closing down a bar. I pulled the key from my pocket and unlocked the lock on the back door. They went inside without instructions. The blackout blinds were already pulled in advance. I flipped on a light.

  “The shower is there,” I pointed to the corner. There was a door leading to a wash closet with a combination shower and toilet. “You’ll go one-by-one. Quickly. I’ll give you dry clothes and a towel before you enter. No one is to talk at any time. If you understand me move your heads up and down.”

  They all nodded.

  “Before you shower I must check you for weapons.” They looked confused. “Ladies first,” I said. The girl just stood there. I motioned for her to come forward. She walked towards me. I put my hands on both shoulders to stop her. I took a step back and extended my arms and spread my legs. She followed suit. I checked her thoroughly but with respect. I pointed to the wall and made the position of a mummy with my hands at my sides and my legs together. She walked over to the wall and stood facing me.

  I patted down her brother much more thoroughly. He was clean. I motioned for him to go stand against the wall.

  Then I patted down the guy I had cuffed. I found a knife in a sheath secured around his leg with two shoelaces. I can’t believe it held during the fall and the swim. I sat the knife on a table. It was the only weapon between the three of them. I left him cuffed.

  I grabbed a towel and some clothes from the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet and handed them to the girl. I pointed to the shower. She took the clothes and headed off.

  She was back in five minutes. Fast for a girl I though. Especially one who had just been pulled from the sea.

  There was a couch in the corner. It was next to the desk and office chair where a manager would sit to balance the books and handle the day-to-day operations. I looked at her and pointed at the couch. She walked over and sat down.

  I pulled out some more clothes from the bottom of the filing cabinet. I held them up. I looked at them and then at her brother. I dug deeper for something smaller. I walked over and handed him the clothes and a towel. I quickly tilted my head to the direction of the shower and then back. He walked quickly and shut the door. I heard the water fall from the shower head within three seconds. He was thin and looked cold. I can imagine that warm shower felt like a new lease on life.

  I walked back over to the desk and sat down. I looked at the girl.

  “He’s your brother?”

  She opened her mouth to speak. She caught herself just before she uttered a word. She nodded.

  “It’s OK. You can talk now. Just in a low voice.”

  She nodded again.

  “What happened out there?”

  “Two men. Those two men you saw in the sea with their faces down. We were crossing from Turkey. They wanted to rob us. Maybe more. I’m not sure.”

  She was smart. She didn’t say the men I shot. She didn’t accuse me of a crime that I had obviously committed. She was calm and had a cool head on her shoulders.

  “Why did they want to rob you?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe we’re just unlucky.”

  I knew that couldn’t be the case.

  “Did they get anything?”

  “No. Thanks to you.”

  “Where do you want to go now?”

  “London. It is my dream. Ever since I was a little girl. If we cannot reach it then Germany.”

  “And how do you plan to get there?”

  “Apply for asylum in Greece. Should we receive that then we will immediately begin the journey.”

  “What makes you think you will receive asylum?”

  “Greece is giving nearly everyone from Syria asylum. There are Facebook groups where refugees share news daily.”

  “And him.” I pointed to the cuffed man. “Does he also want asylum?”

  She looked at the man and he at her. They held eye contact for a moment. She looked back at me. “I can not say what he would like. It is better to ask him.”

  “What would you guess?”

  “I wouldn’t be able to guess.”

  Well played I thought. This guy was almost certainly a trafficker. One she likely no longer needed, but she still didn’t sell him out.

  I waited a moment before continuing. “Do you know who shot those men?”

  “I don’t,” she said. “But I am thankful to that person for saving our lives.”

  I leaned back in my chair. The bathroom door opened and her brother came out. The shirt was still too big, but it didn’t look like a tent. The sweatpants fit well. I motioned for him to join his sister on the couch.

  “You may talk. Just in a low tone,” I said. “Do you know who this man is?” I was looking the boy right in the eye. He didn’t flinch.

  “Yes. He said.”

  “Who is he?”

  “He is the man who was helping us cross the sea.”

  “When did you meet him?”

  The boy didn’t say anything. His sister put her hand on his thigh just above his knee. Offering him support.

  “At the shore,” the boy said. “Just before we departed.”

  “And how did you meet him?”

  “We were told to wait for an SMS. When we received the SMS we were to go to the meeting point at the shore. When we received the SMS we went. He was there with the raft.”

  “Do you know his name?”

  “No. He didn’t tell us.”

  “Do you know who he works for?”

  The boy remained silent. His sister began, “He is a friend of a friend.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “Our father requested safe passage for us. This is the man who was to provide it.”

  “Do you think he provided it?”

  “We are here now so I am very satisfied.”

  I thought for a moment. Their English was very good. I guessed they were from a good family or watched a whole heck of a lot of American movies. I dug in the drawer and found another set of clothes and a towel. “Wait here.”

  I walked over to the boat captain. “Do you understand English?”

  “Talk little. Listen all.”

  I spoke slowly. “You had knife. Why?”

  “For emergency,” he said.

  “What emergency?”

  “Any kind. Never know.”

  I knew he didn’t have any more weapons and I doubt he was trained in any form of martial arts. He looked like a guy with a family trying to make money, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

  I walked him over to the shower. Set the towel and clothes inside on top of the toilet seat cover.

  “I will untie you now. You will take a shower. You will leave the door open. I stay here.”

  I pointed to a spot three feet from the door. It gave me a vantage point on the brother and sister and this guy.

  “Understand?”

  He shook his head.

  “OK. We have a deal. Don’t break our deal.”

  I cut the plastic cuffs with the knife. He brought his hands in front of him and twisted his
wrists while he rubbed the skin where the cuffs had been. He stepped inside. Faced away. Removed his clothes and stood under the hot water. I kept an eye on him with my peripheral while I watched the brother and sister. They weren’t talking. Just facing forward. They were very still, but I could see they were holding hands.

  The man finished and got dressed. I motioned for him to walk in front of me. He did. We got close to the couch and I cuffed him for the second time with plastic handcuffs even though I didn’t see him as a threat. This time I let him keep his hands to the front. I pulled up a plastic chair next to the couch and motioned for him to sit down.