Page 17 of Luck Be Mine (The Defenders #3)

In the dark of an October night, Hunt stood next to LT Jack Brennan and LT Gil Stemmons on the catwalk of a Navy vessel used for mockup drills.

Doogie hovered on the end. Hunt’s balance shifted with the swaying ship.

Ocean sounds might lull civilians to sleep, but not SEALs. Alertness was not the problem.

The objective was for A and B teams to board on opposite sides of the ship and move to their individual objectives while improving their speed, stealth, cohesion, and teamwork.

Watching via helmet cams, thermal overlays and eavesdropping on team channels, Hunt had his evaluation points firmly in place – inter-team cooperation, concise communication under pressure, muzzle awareness and action sequencing with professional management of friction.

Currently, the two teams struggled to integrate, missed signals, and were out of sync – an utter fuck up that would cause injuries and mission failure. The only team member performing to precise standard was Baxter.

Hunt pulled off his headset, tempted to snap but instead going silent. His promotion to lieutenant commander would happen within the month. Lieutenant Commander Scott would retire at the same time. Hunt’s new rank came with all Scott’s responsibilities.

Command continued to fill empty slots and make recommendations. Upon approval, Jack Brennan would take Hunt’s place, a fact Gil Stemmons had gleaned with animosity. His unofficial request to Hunt had been passed over, and the denial had resurrected Stemmons’s asshole persona.

Hunt never failed to do the job handed to him. It stayed a personal objective throughout his entire career. This would be no exception, but the headache throbbing at his temples did not help his mood.

The ocean would never care if an action was mission or drill – gear still jammed, boots slipped, and one bad fall meant someone got hurt or didn’t go home.

Many missions were reruns of past actions causing a bit of done-this-before lag.

But Hunt didn’t rely on those repetitions.

The teams ran fast and hard, not because the Navy said so, but because keeping the skills flexible was a necessity.

The fact they were fucking up only defended the need.

Jack’s crew, his team, stayed controlled, smooth, and precise, knew the layout and exactly what they had to do to get aboard unseen and take it over.

They’d used this scenario before in team practice and on missions.

Stemmons’s crew should have trained enough with similar tactics to be in lockstep.

They were currently mired in showboating and taunting.

Chief Riaz was trying for cohesion without success.

Stemmons’s team had large personalities pushing back against every detail of the execution.

The only thing standing between their screwups and his team blowing was Senior Chief Hernandez.

The man had an iron will and a stern countenance.

He didn’t take any shit, but he was doing the same as Hunt.

Testing the bonds to see where the problems were.

Deter from B team didn’t help. He was a contrary son of a bitch who didn’t like anyone telling him what to do no matter the rank involved.

He made eye contact with Mateo and correctly identified the tight control the Senior Chief had on his temper. He gave Hunt a hand signal that over the years had come to mean fucked.

“Gentlemen, this isn’t working.” Hunt worked to hide his own irritation. “Fix it, Lieutenants.”

Stemmons lifted a brow in challenge. “I usually let them work through their ideas.”

Hunt turned to him, putting Brennan at his back. “I don’t. This is basic. Your team should be able to integrate with any other team at a minute’s notice.

“You get what I mean about personalities.” Their long-ago conversation in the parking lot reared again. Hunt gave himself a few seconds to draw a breath and swallow the curse words. “Not an excuse.”

He walked away from Stemmons and went down the ladder to Hernandez, who had moved to the base of the command deck. Doogie followed. “Give me your assessment. What’s not working?”

“Timing off, not integrating. It’s like a competition out there instead of an objective,” Mateo bit out.

He stared over Hunt’s shoulder and nodded towards Stemmons who was coming down the ladder.

“Incoming. Our new LT is smart enough to stay put and stay out of it. Our people are getting it done. Stemmons and his men are not. They have a command position empty on their team, and Chief Riaz is trying as senior, but he’s a rookie at this. ”

“Mentor him. Let’s lay a better foundation.

You are senior from this point forward and in charge.

Take Riaz aside and explain. Get Deter in check.

Christ. This is a simple but dangerous scale of the side with Team A to the engine room-bridge and Team B to the cargo hold and crew quarters.

It’s not fucking rocket science. The crossfire between Deter and K-Rock should not have happened.

I identified who was at fault, but let’s do a general reminder. ”

“Copy. What’s the plan?”

“What’s your suggestion?”

“We’re gonna run it back-to-back non-stop until they get it in gear and get it right. Fifty times, if that is what it takes. I’ll review job assignments. Being clear, I will drop them overboard if they don’t get it.”

Hunt snorted. “Do it then.”

“Tommy about to blow.”

“Sit on him, too.”

“Lot of opinions on the how of this. Our team agreed to follow the usual entry basics because no mission is attached to adapt the setup. Of course, we practice together all the time. Their team is arguing.”

“Squash it. Not up to them anymore. Do what you do best.”

Mateo’s eyes gleamed. “I hate working with slackers. Doing this right should be the objective.”

Doogie had remained silent but added his two cents. “A good goal. They need to learn the exhausted way. Do it.”

Mateo acknowledged Stemmons and gave Hunt a fake smile. “Nicely asking, sir, deal with him.”

“I’ve got it. Worry about them.”

Senior Chief marched back to the group and signaled Chief Riaz to join him.

He didn’t raise his voice. The man didn’t have to.

One glance at his set face combined with a clipped hand signal and half the SEALs snapped to attention.

Ego, slack performance, and two operators who didn’t check fire lanes were in his crosshairs.

He chewed out action to the last detail right down the line until every man was paying attention.

If they didn’t listen now, they needed to get out.

Hunt turned to Doogie. “Stay with Brennan. Stemmons and I are going to have a point-by-point conversation.”

Doogie frowned. “Watch your back, LT, as you reminded me.”

Hunt stifled his temper. “I hear you.” He turned to Gil and pointed away from the practice area.

Stemmons shifted to go around him. “Let me talk to the guys first. Get them settled.”

Hunt stopped him. “Hernandez has it. He’s in charge of this shitshow now. Come with me.” He didn’t wait to see if the man would follow him because if he didn’t, he’d be on his ass in front of the Commander. He made eye contact with Brennan, who’d kept to the command deck. “Stay put and observe.”

Jack had his feet planted and arms crossed. “Yes, sir.”

Hunt walked out of the training area so there weren’t curious eyes on the confrontation. Noting the Master Chief in charge of the training area, he spoke with respect and control. “Would you mind if we borrowed this area for a minute, Master Chief?”

“No problem, Lieutenant. I’ll get coffee.” The big man disappeared.

“Is this necessary? We belong out there.” Gil propped his hands on his hips.

“Standing on the sidelines and watching their screw ups is not a winning strategy. You call this a team functioning well together, Stemmons? Because I don’t.”

The man drew back. “I told you the solution to this ages ago.”

“Yes, the solution was you asked to be on my team.” Hunt crossed his arms, debating whether putting on his mean face would help.

Nope. He saved the lethal expression for combat, the enemy, and anyone who threatened Cait.

He leaned in close to Stemmons, developing a new expression – stern and uncompromising. “You aren’t good enough to be on my team.”

Stemmons drew back, anger flaring in red splotches across his face. He opened his mouth, but Hunt beat him to it.

“We were able to kill IQS because there was no space between thought and skill on my team. Your people are having a problem.” He flipped a finger between the two of them.

“Unfortunately, we both have a problem now. I will not allow mission failure. I will not lose any of these men to errors. Ever. Regardless of personality issues, those men are here to do a job, not to argue.”

Stemmons’s mouth snapped into a tight line. “Chief fights me at every turn.”

“Looks to me like Chief has his hands full fighting the rest of the team. Reason?”

“They were loyal to Gritz and are struggling. Riaz’s way is different.”

“Boo-hoo. Not the first time I’ve heard those excuses for a team in transition.

Don’t care. Riaz has been on your team for years, too.

You’ve got a few rednecks who are fighting the authority, and I will knock the crap out of them.

This isn’t a slumber party. I’ve executed this plan multiple times.

So have you. This works if everyone does their job. Deal with it.”

“Is that an order?”

“Yes. Terrorists don’t care about your whining. They will kill you with no remorse. Get it?”

“Yes.” But the man wasn’t convinced.

“It’s not a democracy, Stemmons. You stop all this crap, or I will.”

Oh, he definitely didn’t like any of this, but Hunt was on experienced ground. He didn’t sway with the breeze.

“I’ll get to it, but watch it. You’re distracted. Pretty wife at home. I’ll be watching, too.”