Protected by a SEAL: Hot SEALs (Volume 5) (4 page)

CHAPTER 4

“I wanna go
out
.” Sierra heard the underlying whine in her own tone, but she didn’t care.

“You can’t go out until the security team is in place.”

“It’s not like I want to go clubbing. Just let me go for a run.” She needed to expend some of the nervous energy and get out of the hotel before she lost her mind.

“Use the gym here.”

“I hate the treadmill. You know that. I want to be outside.”

“Sierra, you’re acting as if I’ve had you locked away in a dungeon for a month instead of in a luxury suite in a hotel for one day. Just hang on a little while longer.”

It didn’t matter how nice of a place Roger was keeping her in, she was still a prisoner there. Pouting wouldn’t help. Whining wouldn’t either. She needed to reason with him. Appeal to his good sense.

“Look, Roger, we already met with the police and filed all the reports. The hotel knows what’s happening and they say they’ve beefed up security.”

She’d repeated the details, what few she had, ad nauseam. Sierra had told the story of the mysterious envelope appearing in her trailer to every uniformed person who’d asked.

“That’s exactly right. The hotel is taking extra precautions, so you need to stay here, in the hotel, where you’re safe. Until we get your personal security in place no going outside.”

“You mean get my new watchdog over here.” She scowled over the thought of the bodyguard Roger was forcing on her.

“A dog would be good actually. I’ll contact the company I hired and see if they have guard dogs.”

Sierra rolled her eyes at Roger. “I was kidding.”

“Yes, I know, Sierra, but I wasn’t.” Roger raised his coffee cup to his lips, shooting her a glare over the top as he drank.

“I know that and that’s exactly what scares me.”

He was going to have her watched day and night, at work and at home.

Roger taking this so seriously made Sierra have to think about the situation she’d rather ignore. And now, on top of that stress, she was going to have some stuffy Secret Service wannabe following her around.

Or worse, some muscle-bound, bouncer-type bruiser who had more brawn than brains.

Neither scenario was appealing.

Thanks to Roger’s insistence, once her human watchdog arrived, it would be a full twenty-four/seven with no private time to herself. That would be a living hell.
 

Maybe the police would have some leads on who had sent those pictures soon. That was the only hope to end this nightmare.

“What if I got a gun?” The idea hit her from out of the blue.

Her announcement must have hit Roger just as suddenly. He choked as he swallowed his coffee. “Excuse me?”

“If I had a gun, I could protect myself. I wouldn’t need your guard. If I got some sort of holster, I could bring it with me while I was out for a run—“

“No. Definitely not.”

“Why not?”

He shook his head, looking more distraught. Why? She’d come up with what seemed like a really good solution to the problem.

“Sierra, this person could be crazy. They could drive up next to you and throw you in the back of a van before you ever got your gun out of your jogging holster.”

Just what she needed—the image of being kidnapped and thrown into a windowless van. “Thanks so much for putting that very vivid visual into my head.”

“You needed me to. Sugarcoating this won’t do you any good.”

“You’ve never sugarcoated anything in your life.”

“Nope. That’s why you are where you are.” Roger reached out and squeezed the back of her neck. “And why you love me.”

“You’re lucky I do love you or you’d be on the unemployment line.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”
 

“I still want a handgun.”

“And I want a month off in Tahiti with those hottie male strippers from
Magic Mike
. I figure we both have about equal chance of getting what we want.”

Sierra tipped her head to one side. “Well, I do know the casting director who worked on that movie so . . .”

“No gun, sweetie.”

“Can we just go to the store and look at—”

“No. I’m going to make a few phone calls and see what’s happening with that security. You relax. Go take a bath or something.” He pressed a kiss to her head and in essence, dismissed her like she was a child.

Relax. Ha! Not much chance of that happening while he was on the phone checking on the ETA of her bodyguard to protect her from her stalker.

Sierra moved to the window in the living area. The curtains were closed tightly making the room feel dark in spite of the lamps being on. The whole room felt smaller and stifling but Roger had insisted the curtains remain closed and the police had agreed.

She used one finger to separate the edges of the two curtains just a crack and peered through. It was late enough in the evening that it was dark outside. That made her feel moderately better. It felt worse being cooped up when the sun was shining brightly.

Was he there, outside, watching? He might be.

He or
she
, Sierra reminded herself. There was nothing proving the photographer was a man. It could be a woman.

What motivation did this person have? Hate? Love? Obsession?

Freaked out now, just from thinking about what might be going on in the mind of her stalker, she let the curtain fall back into place. She stepped back farther into the room and away from the window.

Roger stepped up behind her. “He’ll be here tonight.”

“Tonight?” Surprised, she turned to face Roger. She’d figured this person would start work in the morning.

“Yes. They’re taking this seriously, Sierra. As you should be.”

That strange sensation, the same feeling of doom she had when she first saw that envelope in her trailer, still niggled in the back of her brain. Whatever sixth sense she had, she had to learn to trust it. She was going to heed it this time.

She turned toward Roger. “Okay. I will. I do.”

He lifted a brow. “You’ll cooperate with them? Do what they say?”

God, how she hated being told what to do.

“Yes.” That she’d agreed proved to her, and probably to Roger as well, exactly how unsettled she was.

CHAPTER 5

When everyone who was coming was there, including Zane who’d just strolled in, Jon opened his notebook on the table. “So we’ve got two things on tonight’s agenda.”

That there were two possible jobs for GAPS made Rick happy enough he could ignore his hatred of the concept of them having an agenda.

He’d gladly suffer through meetings and agendas if the end result was him on a mission, hopefully wearing a weapon a bit more exciting than the one he had for work, but he was in no position to be picky.

At this point he’d take what he could get in the action department.

Jon tapped the end of his pencil on the pad of paper as he glanced around the table. “First up, we got a consulting gig.”

The joy bubbling inside Rick didn’t diminish just because the first job sounded more like they’d be pushing papers than pulling triggers. Consulting could be fun. It could entail live demos or training.

Using his own years of training to kick the ass of some green trainees—yeah, he could get into that.

“Where?” Rick asked, jumping the gun even though he was sure Jon would have gotten to that point eventually.

Jon’s usual poker face broke. He grinned as he said, “The meeting’s set for next week at Camp Lemonier.”

“Djibouti?” Chris whooped at that announcement. “Hell, yeah.”
 

Brody laughed. “Congrats, bro. That’s huge.”

Huge enough, even Zane put down his phone long enough to participate in the conversation. “Yes, sir. We’re being brought in as civilian contractors to analyze and advise. They’re moving the protection and education of ships’ crews in the Gulf of Aden to the private sector. Piracy in that area is actually on the decline the past couple of years. And the military is a little busy at the moment with the current situation in Yemen.”

“Yeah, I guess all out civil war just a few miles across the water is enough to get the big guys’ attention.”

Rick knew Brody was right. That a consulting job for GAPS, taking place at the Joint Task Force’s base in Africa, was a huge step up. And if they landed the gig to train the shipping corporations’ crews—a job like that could only help GAPS grow and move forward, but the reality was that this job did nothing for Rick’s current malaise. He couldn’t pick up and fly to the Horn of Africa, no matter how willing Mike had been to cover some extra shifts.

He rallied his support. What was good for the company was good for him. He’d have to repeat that mantra at his next shift at work.

Rick forced a smile. “That’s great, man.”

“Yeah, it’s big. Which is why I was hoping we could all take a look at what information they sent us and do some prep work tonight, but then I got a call with a situation that needs to be handled immediately. He just called again right before Zane got here and he needs someone there like now.”

Rick’s happiness bubble re-inflated. “I can do it.”

Jon lifted a brow. “You don’t even know what it is.”

“I don’t care. Dude, if I don’t get some action, things are going to get ugly.”

“There’s girls at the club just off base that can take care of that.” Chris grinned.

Although he’d been lacking in that area too, Rick leveled a tolerant gaze at his friend. “That’s not the kind of action I’m talking about.”
 

Ignoring the exchange about strippers, Jon asked, “What’s your availability?”

Rick was happy to inform him he was free and clear—at least for the near future. “I’m off for the next two days and after that I can probably get coverage.”

“All right. It’s yours.”

The smile was too huge for Rick to even try and control it, not that he wanted to. He was happy to have a mission and he didn’t care who knew it.

“What are the details?” Rick asked.
 

“Basic close protection. Twenty-four seven for an indeterminate amount of time,” Jon began.

His mind spun with the possibilities. The client might be a politician who wasn’t eligible for Secret Service protection so was hiring from the private sector. That was probably the case. Besides the fact that Zane had political connections, GAPS was located near enough to Washington, D.C. they should probably expect to get a lot of politicians for clients.
 

Jon continued, “As far as I can tell it’ll only require one man on at a time. You and Chris should be able to handle it even while Zane and I are in Djibouti. Between all of us, we should be able tag team this thing and take shifts to make sure she’s covered at all times.”

“She?” That little detail piqued Rick’s curiosity further.

One glance around the table told him that Chris and Brody’s interest in the details of this assignment had heightened as well.

Zane shook his head. “Now you’ve really got their attention.”

“Yeah, I see that.” Jon let out a snort.

“So who is this mysterious
she
?” Chris asked.