SEAL for Her Protection (SEALs of Coronado Book 1) (2 page)

A few minutes later, she and her rescuer were outside the encampment and in the surrounding desert. They’d barely crested the top of a sandy hill when a she saw a blur of movement coming down from the sky. A staccato
thump, thump, thump
she could feel in her chest told her it might be a helicopter, but it was much quieter than any she’d ever heard before.

Then a big black shape dropped to the ground at the bottom of the slope and Hayley realized it really was a helicopter, albeit a lot stranger looking than she was used to seeing, made up of sharp angles and sleek curves. Before she knew it, a door in the side of the thing slid open and her SEAL handed off to another guy in dark clothes and NVGs.

“Watch her right ankle,” her SEAL told the man as he flipped up his NVGs to help get her in the canvas seat of the aircraft.

Other SEALs appeared out of the darkness, carrying rescued women of their own. Off to the side, about fifty feet away, Hayley saw yet another one of the strange helicopters being loaded with more women, each carried in by a SEAL.

The journalist in Hayley tried to look everywhere at once, hoping to take everything in and remember it. There wasn’t very much light coming from the interior of the helicopter, but in the little there was, she saw her savior had the most beautiful blue eyes God had ever given a man.

“These people will get you and the others to safety,” he said as he checked her seatbelt one last time.

“Aren’t you coming, too?” she asked when he started to back away.

The urge to reach out and grab him was nearly impossible to resist. But every seat in the helicopter was taken up by her and the other women. There was no room for the SEALs.

“We’re not leaving yet,” he said, and all Hayley could do was lock on his amazing smile and beautiful blue eyes. “My Team and I have a lot more before we’re done here. Take care.”

With that, her SEAL turned and ran back toward the terrorist camp—and the shooting. Then the door slid closed and the super quiet helicopter lifted away in a fast ascent.

That’s when it finally hit Hayley she was going to live through this, and she’d found the story she’d come to Nigeria for.

Chapter One

Four Weeks Later, San Diego, California

I
T WAS HOPELESS. There was no way Hayley was going to find the SEAL who rescued her in this sea of blue-camouflage hunks. Especially since she hadn’t gotten a look at much more of him than those gorgeous blue eyes of his.

Not that she was specifically at the Naval Amphibious Base to meet up with him. No, she was there covering a story for the
San Diego Daily News
on the construction of the new Navy SEAL campus on Imperial Beach. If she ran into her savior, though, she certainly wouldn’t complain. She knew it was a long shot, but the fact she’d been rescued at all had been a long shot, too. Maybe she’d be lucky enough to be part of two miracles.

Hayley shifted in the uncomfortable folding metal chair, crossing one leg over the other and resting her cell phone on her knee, forcing herself to focus on the podium at the front of the pavilion and what the commander of the SEALs, Rear Admiral Brian Davies, was saying about the one billion dollar project. According to him, the WWII-era buildings SEAL Teams 1, 3, 5, 7, and 17 were currently using were obsolete, which meant they were forced to train elsewhere on top of frequent deployments. The new construction would make their mission—and their lives—easier. Of course, most of the current SEALs would likely be retired by then since it would take a decade to build everything.

The land where the Navy building was on a scenic coastal corridor, though, and not everyone was pleased about the move. There were a lot of local residents who thought the military training, big buildings, and loud helicopters would degrade their precious beachfront lifestyle. Admiral Davies was currently going to great lengths to point out there’d be minimal noise because the SEALs would still go to places like La Posta Mountain Warfare Training Facility and Warner Springs, both over an hour from San Diego, for the more intrusive—also known as loud—training.

Hayley frowned. So the expansion would make it easier to train closer to home, but they’d have to go elsewhere for some of it anyway. No wonder there were so many locals up in arms about the SEALs relocating. It was hard not thinking that everything being said was a bunch of doublespeak.

Personally, she really didn’t have a position on the subject. She’d never been a big fan of taxpayers spending tons of money on the military, but after her rescue, she was suddenly all for the government giving the SEALs as much money as they wanted. Hell, they could train next to her apartment complex if they felt like it.

Hayley stretched her right leg and rotated her foot. She tried to be as subtle as possible, but Brad Oliver, her photographer-slash-friend-slash-brother-she-never-had, noticed the move. He leaned over, his gray eyes filled with concern.

“Is your ankle bothering you again?”

She gave him a small smile and shook her head. “It’s a little stiff from standing on it for so long before coming into the pavilion.”

Actually, it was more than a little stiff, but she wasn’t going to tell Brad that. While she loved him like a brother, he’d been worrying over her like a mother hen ever since the kidnapping. If he knew she was in pain, he’d probably get her a wheelchair. Even worse, he’d insist they go back to the newspaper so she could put her foot up. No way she was doing that. After getting back from Africa, she’d spent two days in the hospital, followed by a full week stuck in bed. On top of that, when she’d finally gone back to work, her editor, Todd Henry, had confined her to a desk for another two weeks.

She’d spent the time writing a story about her capture and subsequent rescue in Africa, which had led to requests for interviews from other papers as well as local and national television media outlets. It was odd making the news instead of reporting it, but her employer loved the attention she—and the newspaper—were getting and insisted she milk it for all it was worth. She, on the other hand, would prefer to move on and get back into the field.

Unfortunately, Todd wasn’t having any of that. Not only wasn’t he allowing her to go back overseas anytime soon, he wasn’t in the mood to let her take on any weighty investigative work here at home either. He wanted her to take some time off, maybe visit her parents in Santa Barbara. But more than that, he wanted her to deal with the post-traumatic stress he insisted she was experiencing. While she loved her mom and dad like crazy, spending any length of time with them would drive her insane. And as far as PTSD was concerned, that was crazy. But when she’d refused to take a vacation—or make an appointment to deal with PTSD she didn’t have—her editor had gotten his revenge by giving her a big basket full of fluffy nonsense to work on. Todd could be very manipulative.

The pile was mostly human interest stuff, but two of the storylines had caught her eye. One was about a group of hacktivists calling themselves
The People
. They’d started making a name in the San Diego area lately by using their computer and Internet talents to dig up dirt and evidence of corruption on local politicians and business leaders then spattering it all over the Web. The group had already exposed several low-level politicians in the Southern California area, and while they hadn’t attracted the attention of the federal authorities yet, the local powers that be were screaming for someone to put a stop to their snooping and muckraking.

Once she’d told Todd she’d take the story, he had suggested downplaying the whole hacktivist angle, since it seemed like a long shot Hayley—or the cops for that matter—would ever figure who these Internet snoops were. Instead, he wanted her to focus the story on all these corrupt city officials. Better yet, figure out who the hacktivists were targeting next and beat them to the punch.

That really wasn’t the angle Hayley had been thinking about. To her, the most interesting part of this whole thing was the hacktivists. It would be cool to get into their stories, figure out what drove people like this to turn themselves into digital vigilantes. Now that definitely had the potential to be an interesting story. Hopefully, she could get the corruption story Todd was after and still get the piece on the hacktivists she was interested in.

The second story that had grabbed her attention in the pile of fluff was the groundbreaking ceremony for the new SEAL construction project. She’d shocked her editor when she said she’d cover the Navy public relations event. She had to admit, it wasn’t something she’d normally even look at twice. On the surface, it was a straight-up back-page filler piece typically thrown out to rookie reporters to give them something to do. But once she’d dug a little deeper, she’d found an actual tie-in between the Imperial Beach project and the hacktivist group.

It turned out
The People
had been dropping rumors that a local city councilman named William Nesbitt was getting kickbacks from the project.
The People
hadn’t dropped any hardcore facts yet, so everything was still on the back burner as far as public opinion was concerned. But the innuendo out there was interesting, and it just so happened Nesbitt would be at the ceremony today.

Todd had immediately locked on Nesbitt, agreeing this would be a good place to confront the man—see what he had to say about the allegations
The People
had been making against him. Yes, she’d write up the article for the ceremony, too, but mostly it was Nesbitt.

Of course, she also had another reason for wanting to attend the ceremony, one she hadn’t mentioned to Todd or even Brad. She was hoping against hope she’d run into a particular SEAL—one with the most incredible blue eyes she’d ever seen.

* * * * *

The briefing finished fifteen minutes later. Hayley shut off the recorder app on her iPhone and stood, hiking her purse higher on her shoulder. Brad hovered at her elbow, sticking close as they filed out of the pavilion with the rest of the crowd, No doubt, he wanted to be there in case her ankle gave out and she fell. The breeze coming off the ocean whipped her long, blond hair around her face and she reached up to tuck it behind her ear as she casually glanced around at the uniformed men from behind her sunglasses.

“You look tired,” Brad said. “I saw bottles of water at the refreshment table. I’ll grab one for you.”

Hayley opened her mouth to tell Brad she was fine, but he was already running off, his dark-blond head ducking this way and that as he weaved in and out of the crowd. If she didn’t think it would mess with their friendship, she would seriously consider marrying the guy. He was amazing.

She looked around, searching for her elusive Navy SEAL again, only to see Councilman Nesbitt standing a few feet away. Well, at least she’d found one of the men she’d been looking for. Average height with salt-and-pepper hair and wire-rimmed glasses, he was alone and scowling at something on his phone. Which made it the perfect opportunity to introduce herself.

Nesbitt looked up as she approached, the frown he’d been wearing turning into the smarmy smile of a seasoned politician as he took off his reading glasses and slipped them in the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Councilman Nesbitt, Hayley Garner from the
San Diego Daily News
,” she said, offering her hand. “It’s nice seeing you here today.”

His grin broadened and he actually puffed out his chest. “This project is very important to the community as well as to the future of the SEALs. I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

Hayley didn’t doubt that. Particularly if
The People
were right about the councilman lining his pockets. “I’ve heard rumors you’ve been getting kickbacks on the construction of the new campus. Would you care to comment on that?”

The smile disappeared from his face so fast it was like someone had flipped a switch. “I see you’ve been reading the crap those damn hacktivists are spreading all over the Internet. I would have expected better from a journalist with your credentials.”

Hayley didn’t blink. “Does that mean you aren’t getting anything from all the new construction going on at Imperial Beach? That it’s coincidence so many of your friends and political backers are getting the majority of the construction work coming out of this huge billion dollar project?”

Nesbitt slipped his phone into the pocket in his suit jacket and gave her a cool look. “While I’m thrilled some of my constituents have been selected to work on the construction, I didn’t have anything to do with them being selected to provide the supplies and services.”

“
The People
think otherwise.”

“That’s because they’re morons who have nothing better to do than make up lies,” he snapped. “The local companies getting these jobs are merely subcontractors, Ms. Garner. They were all selected by the prime contractor—Alpha One Construction—that won the contract for the project from the Navy.”

“That doesn’t mean you weren’t involved,” she pointed out.

Nesbitt regarded her thoughtfully. “As I’m sure you’re aware, I have nothing to do with awarding Navy contracts. I’m a councilman, not a congressman. How could I have steered these supposed sweet deals to my friend when I have no influence on the situation? There’s no corruption or shadowy conspiracies going on here, Ms. Garner. It’s nothing more than the best supplier and subcontractors getting the jobs, plain and simple.” He gave her a nod. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting I need to get to.”

Hayley watched Nesbitt go. His reasoning might be sound, but she wasn’t ready to dismiss the rumors yet.
The People
had been accurate about everything they’d uncovered so far, and something told her they wouldn’t have targeted the councilman if there wasn’t some truth in what they were saying. Besides, her sleaze radar had started pinging the second she saw the man.