Page 7 of Luck Be Mine (The Defenders #3)

? Back in Uniform – Day Seven ?

“Hey, Hunter. Wait up.”

On his way out after a long day, Hunt forced himself to turn. Almost to the damn door.

LT Gil Stemmons jogged to catch him. Their security meetings lasted most of the afternoon, and the man hadn’t approached him. That meant private. Please, no conversation about Deter Kirkus.

Stemmons carried his tall stature well. His sturdy body stood on tough missions, and his quick mind was an asset.

His good looks caught the women which Hunt had always been happy to let him have.

He had more time in grade than Gil, but they’d done a few missions together.

He had no complaints about how the man ran his team.

So, they needed a conversation to put to bed all the gossip, most being too far off base to let continue.

“Stem.” He offered his hand and studied the man’s solemn face. “Walk me out?”

“Sure. Might be better outside conversation anyway.”

Hunt kept his face neutral and continued to the exterior door.

“Ready to deploy? New wife ready?”

“Yes.” He should expand his affirmative, but he didn’t like sharing information about his relationship with Cait.

“You sure? Sometimes women get anxious, and they’ll go crazy contacting you.”

Hunt stopped, holding the outer door. “Cait has ten years in the Army. She understands deployment.”

“Oh right. What’s she doing about her service?”

“Undetermined at this time.” Hunt wished he could slip sunglasses on to mask the irritation on his face, but the gathering darkness of February disagreed with the move.

He went to the edge of the parking area and waited for Stemmons to speak.

When he didn’t, Hunt stopped. “Lay it out. What’s the problem? ”

The younger lieutenant shrugged. “No problem.”

“Come on, Gil. Don’t send messages through the other team members. You have a problem, come to me. I have no designs on Kirkus. I’m happy with the team I have.”

“But you’re about to get promoted. I hear Scott wants you for his position.”

“He’s said as much to me, but nothing has been decided. Now with this virus, we’ll have to wait and see. It’s up to the Navy to pick.”

“Oh, I wasn’t arguing. I want your team.” Stemmons kept walking, but Hunt stopped paces from his truck. What the fuck?

“You what?”

Stemmons put his hands on his hips. “After you get promoted, I want to move to your team. Be their lieutenant.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like the make up of my team. Personality clashes.”

Hunt frowned. “Fix it, then.” Christ! This would make Doogie’s head explode.

“I get the problem children.”

“Yet, they perform under fire.”

Hell, his team took on Tommy who was a problem child with all capital letters. He’d straightened out. Mostly Senior Chief’s doing, but partly Doogie’s, too.

“Yeah, but can I treat them like family when we come home? Congrats on the marriage by the way. That was unexpected.”

Hunt had no clue how to answer. “If you have issues with your team, you should talk to Scott.”

“Nope. Not going to give him a clue anything is a problem.”

“You always tell him things are ship shape?”

“Yes, because they are. In the field. At home? Assholes, partiers, and killers. I stay out of the loop, if possible. Thankfully, as an officer, they don’t come to me much.”

Hunt had a higher calling, a dedication to his country. The commitment was what he expected from his people, outside and inside the wire. Find it or get out. He also gave a fuck about his people. They knew they could come to him if needed. Stayed between them. No brass involved.

“Come on, Hunter. You have a stellar reputation for getting the job done, and you navigate the gray areas so well the Navy is never left holding the bag. Not to mention IQS. A nice commendation by the way.”

“Job. All of it.” Not pleased the man had read his file, Hunt toyed with how to answer. If he did get Scott’s position, this was one piece of information he did not want to have.

“It’s how you choose to lead missions and your people – that’s what shapes your team.”

Not a choice. It was a standard: precision in tactics, excellence in performance, and the trust that bound men together. All hard-earned.

Stemmons wanted to trade up and not have to take all the steps by learning how to do the work to a higher standard. None of this was the way his SEAL Team worked. “I repeat. It’s not my decision.” He shifted his go bag to the other hand. It was going home to be unpacked and repacked.

Stemmons gave him a smile and slapped his shoulder. “It would be if you’re in Scott’s position.”

Hunt shook his head. “I’d have input, not the final decision. Frankly, like I said, I’m still not sold on any one direction.”

Captain Morrison’s leadership style was another problem.

The man had a reputation for control using tight reins and top- down decisions.

Worse, Morrison had been SEAL Team Seven’s commander during the whole mess in Iraq.

Two full squads lost their command structure to court-martials for everything from drug use to assault.

Hunt still didn’t understand how Morrison walked away without a mark.

That type of command? He wanted no part of.

Stemmons smirked. “Lieutenant Commander rank, coming at you like a freight train. Better figure it out.” The man walked past him to the end of the lot and got in a tricked-out truck. Those flashy additions cost more than the truck and caused Hunt to ask questions he had no business addressing.

The man pulled to a stop next to him. “Good talk, Hunter. Think about it.” He drove out at an easy pace.

“Not if I can help it.” He clenched his fist around the handle of his bag and got in his normal silver truck. Hunt had never wanted to upgrade. He wanted a normal life, too, and Cait coming into his had made him assess how far off the mark he was.

He started the vehicle and sat with his hands on the steering wheel. “What did you learn, Hunter?” He joined traffic getting off base.

“Stemmons’s team has problems I want no part of.” He changed lanes and entered the freeway.

“Scott’s job has headache waiting to happen stamped all over it.”

He stayed silent until he took the exit home. “I’m in the crosshairs and don’t want to be.” He was already struggling with how to be the husband he wanted, and he kept compromising when he chose Cait over duty. A job like Scott’s would give him no time with her.

He snorted. “My job gives me no time with her.”

Nothing in him was ready to get out, not yet. But would staying keep him from building the close relationship he wanted with his wife?

He didn’t know. Maybe Cait did.

Everybody knew SEALs were the toughest out there. But normal worries of everyday life remained. Managing the demands with a risky profession required careful steps with focus on it about five percent of the time. Those steps would be trial and error. He hated trial and error.

§§§§§§§§§§

Eleven Weeks Since Injury

? Physical Therapy Isn’t for Sissies ?

Three more therapy sessions checked off.

Cait paused half-way up the fifteen steps to the apartment and counted how many left. Admittedly, this trek was easier when Hunt carried her. Set aside the fact she hated the necessity, she was okay with sitting and waiting for him. Hanging out on the stairs didn’t sound like such a bad thing.

The beautiful day had been made ruin by physical therapy.

The exercises accentuated how far she had to go to recover.

She might be walking, slowly, but she wasn’t even at turtle speed.

Honestly, after two weeks of therapy, she wanted to be better than this.

It was a stupid expectation and disheartening.

Rest all morning had anchored her descent of the stairs. Adele had driven her to her appointment and helped her inside the rehabilitation hospital.

She’d suffered through a torturous routine of therapy. Even though the therapist said it was a light workout today, it felt like an elephant was sitting on her pelvis, and her shoulder was wrecked from doing nothing.

She hobbled up a few more stairs with Adele at her elbow, and it occurred to her. She blurted the thought without censure.

“We should move. Get on a ground floor. This is ridiculous.”

“I was going to suggest a move, but I didn’t want to butt in. Now would be a good time when you have little furniture.” Adele swung an arm around her waist and lifted her to the next step. Cait had gone past tired an hour ago.

“The boys just carried the sofa upstairs. They’ll kill me for suggesting it.”

Adele puffed in disdain. “It’ll be appropriate punishment for even thinking that red regret would be helpful in your living room. Four more and we’re there.”

“Thank God. I’m going to collapse.”

“Not before we get you in the bedroom and in comfy sleep clothes with some pain medication.”

“I’m not sure I can get there.”

“Well, I forbid you to sleep on the velvet beast. At least Hunt has a good bed for you.”

“I say thanks for the bed every day when I don’t want to get up.” She fumbled for her key and handed it to Adele. The woman’s precise movements opened the door, eased her to the bedroom, and helped her sit on the bed.

“Don’t you fall back. Let me get your shoes off.”

“Hunt will be home any minute.” Cait’s eyes went closed. The fog over her brain settled hard, and she struggled to do as Adele asked.

“You’ll be asleep, honey. Here, swallow.” Two pills were shoved into her mouth, and a cup came to her lips. She swallowed the pills and couldn’t stay upright. She twisted onto her good side and collapsed.

“That was horrible. Don’t tell Hunt.”

“We’ll talk about all this later. I’m gonna tuck you in tight and you sleep. You did good work today, girl. Don’t you forget it.”

She let go.

§§§§§§§§§§

? Yes, I Have Your Back ?

Hunt parked his truck in the apartment parking lot, irritation riding high. Questions and responses overhis talk with Stemmons crowded out all concerns. He tried not to bring work issues home, but his job didn’t fit well with those plans.

Out of his vehicle, he paused when Doogie pulled in beside him and parked hisblack truck with the same precision he had.

The man hustled to meet him. His civilian clothes meant he’d been home to shower and change. “Are you just getting home?”

Hunt frowned. “Yes. Got intercepted.”

“Mission?”

“No. What are you here for?”

“Checking my girl.” The man’s white teeth glowed in the gathering darkness.

“Your mother or my wife?”

“I can see my mama at home. Gotta check on Lucky Charm.”

“Those two women are thick as thieves. You know that, right?”

“How thick are thieves?” Doogie slapped him on the shoulder, laughter crinkling his face.

Hunt allowed a relaxed grin. “Inseparable. We need to be careful.”

His friend sobered. “Yeah, this might be a problem for everybody but them.”

“I’m glad Cait has her. Thanks for sharing.”

“You’re welcome. Let’s not get mushy. What delayed you?” He pulled down the tailgate of his truck and sat, patting the place next to him. “Come into my office.”

Hunt snorted. The man had all sorts of places he called his office. Some ofthem in live fire zones. “Stemmons. Ambushed me in the parking lot.”

“What about?”

“He’d heard the rumors Scott is retiring and assumes I’ll be taking hisplace.”

“Hate to tell you, bro. But that one ain’t no secret.”

“Yeah, only he wants my slot.”

“Your slot? He’s not up for lieutenant commander.”

“No, the LT slot on our team.”

Doogie pulled back, his face furious. “Hell, no. Hell, fucking no.”

Not surprised, Hunt leaned against the side of the truck.

Doogie shot off the tailgate and paced. “Why? Why this spot?”

He raised a brow. “I can think of a few reasons, our IQS reputation for one.”

As a leader, the man did his usual: clamped his mouth shut, took more measured steps, and gestured with his hands as he went through his usual thinking process. Conclusion drawn, he stopped and faced Hunt. “He doesn’t fit.There’s no way. He can’t manage his own fucking team.”

“Uh-huh, tell me what you’ve heard.”

“Who do you think I am? Baxter? I don’t gather gossip. I observe.”

While Baxter was the best at gathering intel, facts, and gossip, his executive officer was no slouch. He waited.

Doogie sighed, then propped his hands on his hips. “Oh, all right. I’ll say this. That team has broken discipline. They’ve had a few major personnel changes. It’s fuckingwith them like integrating Tommy fucked with us.”

“How did we integrate Tommy?”

“We worked our asses off, trained, trained some more, did more than a fewmissions and after-action assessments. It took a few months to shake the crap out of Tommy. I do not want to do that again.”

“So why isn’t Stemmons doing a similar training with his current team?”

Doogie came closer, eyes hard and determined. “I do not know him other than as another SEAL. I don’t know why. Further, I do not care. He can’t have our team.”

“He can’t have our team,” Hunt repeated. “We don’t talk about it, but we have areputation to uphold. It will not fall apart because we killed awell-known terrorist. I won’t have it. But I’ve been clued in now, and I’m going to have to watch carefullybecause those problems will land on my plate.”

Doogie stepped back and sighed. “I’m glad they aren’t in my channel.

Anything you need, though, I’m here for it.”

“Including comforting my wife?”

“Yes. If truth be told.”

“Your mama is part of our family now.”

“Nice to know. Thankfully, you finally quit screwing around, found the damn woman, and brought her home. About time.”

Hunt rose off the tailgate and slammed it shut. “Be careful aroundStemmons.”

Doogie shrugged his shoulders. “He’s already looked at me twice like I’m someone to test. He’d lose.”

“Pass the word along, quietly.”

“Copy.”