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Chief Styles Sawyer

It was time for Sawyer to get his head in the damn game as he and his team filed onto the CH-47F cargo helicopter. His Craft-Riverine warfare boat was armed to the teeth with everything from .50 caliber machine guns to 40mm grenade launchers and all the deadly artillery between.

The chopper hooked his twenty-thousand-pound boat onto slings that lifted it fifteen feet above the water and took them toward the war zone where the SEALs were already closing in on their hostage’s location.

Sawyer stood over his men, staring them in their eyes.

“It’s time to leave all our shit at home. In this moment, what happens on the water is all that matters. For the next hour, this is your life! This is your reason for existing! This is what we do! On time, on target, never quit! We don’t fuckin’ lose. We don’t fuckin’ surrender! Do you get me?”

“We get you, chief!”

While he was giving his rile-up speech, he fought to take his own advice.

Leave it all at home.

Sawyer had to get Oakley out of his mind. He had to stop thinking about the feel of the other man’s hard cock in his hands and his hot breath on his neck. Or the strength he’d used to grip his waist.

Sawyer blinked away Oakley’s mesmerizing glare that’d made his heart pound harder than his body had shuddered in his arms.

Sawyer couldn’t help casting one last glance at Oakley as he climbed into his own transport.

The silent exchange passing between them was as clear as day.

“ Bring your ass back home. We got unfinished business .”

He wished he could’ve gotten one last glimpse at those brilliant hazel eyes that had gleamed under the moonlight as Sawyer made him come all over their fists.

He damn near moaned out loud thinking about it.

Come on, Sawyer. Get your head in the fight.

The chopper blasted the SEALs’ radio communication overhead, allowing the boat teams to hear the status of the battle on the ground so they’d know if they had to come in guns blazing or if it’d be an easy pick and go.

“Pelican ( USS Rimlin ), this is Pelican Actual (SEALs), radio check, over.”

“Roger, Actual, this is Pelican. We have you Lima Charlie, over.”

“All boots are on the ground, copy,” the lieutenant. of the SEAL team informed them. “Three klicks from the primary target. Any activity for my status at this time?”

“Actual, we’re picking up a severe increase in activity, enemy hostiles are six klicks from your location, copy.”

That was just what Sawyer was hoping not to hear.

“Looks like our boys are about to encounter some trouble.” Sawyer tightened the strap of his FAST helmet and got in position to descend the ladder lowering from the chopper. “Let’s go get ’em.”

Once all his men were down, the cables were released, and Sawyer got on the radio.

Oakley descended onto his boat, the Chariot , a few feet away, and Sawyer was impressed at how fast his men got into position with him at the helm.

Over the comms, calculated shots were being fired, and he knew that meant the SEAL snipers were quickly eliminating the men around the perimeter and the guards watching the hostage.

The moment his boat hit the water, the USS Rimlin no longer had command. Now it was his and Oakley’s turn to commandeer the rescue.

“Actual, this is Neptune . Radio check.”

“ Neptune , this is Actual. Got you loud and clear. Confirming target is secured.”

The lieutenant sounded winded, as if he were running. Which meant Sawyer needed to haul ass.

“Buckets one and two are in the water. How copy?”

“Copy that, Neptune . Actual is ten klicks to extraction point, pushing hard and fast, over.”

His boat’s powerful engine revved loud enough to scatter all marine life within a twenty-mile radius.

His surveillance operator readied his MQ Triton and slung it into the air. The drone shot into the sky and flew toward the SEALs.

It was time to get them the hell out of there before shit got real.

“ Neptune , this is Chariot standing by on the set.”

Sawyer tried not to let the rough timber of Oakley’s voice distract him. The other chief was letting him know he had his back, and suddenly, Sawyer felt invincible.

“Copy that, Chariot . Time to make some fuckin’ waves, over.”

His boat sliced through the churning waters like a hot knife through butter. The roar of his engine was raw power and precision, loud and terrifying like a lion’s roar. It was a thrilling ride of unfathomable speed and control.

God, he fuckin’ lived for this.

The Neptune wasn’t just a goddamn boat. It was a predator.

Each surge forward sent cascades of frothy waves splashing against the sides. The cold spray of the water hit his cheeks like tiny needles, invigorating and sharp.

The crack of bullets sounded chaotic through the comms, but Sawyer remained composed.

The horizon blended into streaks of purple and blues as the vast tropical rainforest flanking both sides of the Madeira River became a bright-green blur.

They were full throttle, balls to the wall, coming in blazing.

“ Neptune , we’re taking fire. What’s your ETA to my position, over?”

The lieutenant sounded out of breath, but his voice was steady. At this time, the team should almost be at the extraction point.

“ETA three mikes, pushing to your location, Actual.”

Hang in there, boys. We’re coming.

His boat operator made a smooth turn deeper into enemy territory, and his six snipers were locked and loaded behind their guns.

“Actual, you have eight aggressor vehicles closing in on you from the north.” Sawyer’s surveillance operator controlling the drone was laser focused on his tablet. “There’s two trucks on the opposite side of the path. You need to hot-ass it, over.”

Fuck .

The sound of heavy machine gun fire from the hostiles almost busted his eardrum.

“ Neptune , be advised we’ve overshot our site. The extract point is burned,” the lieutenant. rushed. “We can make it to the secondary rally point. One klick out.”

“Hard copy, Actual,” Sawyer gritted.

Contact rear! Contact rear. We’re taking rounds, Neptune ! Reverberated inside Sawyer’s helmet.

He didn’t panic at the sound of tires screeching and explosions popping in his ears over the comms. There was no time for losing his shit and no room for fear.

“ Chariot be advised, I have eight sets of boots, one package, and a hammer. Hammer has gunshots to the shoulder and stomach. Requesting immediate fire support. This will be a hot extract, Chariot . Actual out.”

Oakley had four medics on his boat and was responsible for securing the wounded while Sawyer picked up the remaining team.

“Dammit! Triton is down,” his operator cursed. “Visibility is gone. I repeat, visibility is dead.”

It wasn’t the first time their eyes had been shut down…and it wouldn’t be the last. Sawyer didn’t need his drone to know he was barreling into an active, hostile war zone.

The moment his operator steered them around the bend, Sawyer hollered.

“Light ’em up!”

The thunderous booms of the .50 calibers and barrage of fire from the M16s mounted on the sides of his and Oakley’s boats lit up the narrow enclave of the river brighter than the Macy’s Fourth of July fireworks.

The Neptune’s and Chariot’s movements were synchronized as if they’d rehearsed this entrance a hundred times, both of them engaging the enemy with epic force.

Gunfire came at them from all sides, but Sawyer’s men remained undeterred, faces determined, their shots calculated.

Bullets whizzed through the air, coming dangerously close, but the bulletproof shell of his boat was impenetrable to rifle fire.

The water tossed violently around them as the SEALs made their way into the shallow water toward the boats, where his men were bent over the sides, ready to pull them up.

Each round shot and grenade launched by his crew carved a clearer path for their team to be rescued.

“Move, move, move!” the SEAL lieutenant yelled as he fell back to make sure every one of his squad was hoisted out of the murky water.

“Secured,” Oakley called first, already spinning his boat in the opposite direction.

Sawyer waited for his second in command to give him the all-go, and the moment he received his thumbs-up, all hell broke loose.