SEAL Forever (20 page)

“We know Declan's training for a triathlon, so we're going to fix his road bicycle. Should only take a few hours,” Leaper explained. “We'll be mid-construction by the time the big guy gets home.”

“The motorcycle is his great joy, and he needs it back,” added Dahl. “That's my specialty. Though I need some muscle. I guess I should have asked Miller to join us.”

“Screw you! I'm strong!” shouted Leaper.

Maura felt her eyes fill with tears. She nodded her head. These two were some pretty remarkable souls, out helping others, assisting Declan. Not needing to be told how or where or why, but just doing it so that their friend could be happy. Leaning over, she kissed Dahl on the cheek. “Thanks,” she managed to say. “He'll enjoy having his motorcycle back, and the road bicycle too.”

“Did she kiss you? She didn't kiss me!” Leaper yelled. “I need some sugar, baby.” He spread his arms wide, waving his fingers like a madman or an octopus looking for food.

Maura held her hands up. “No, uh, maybe next time, Leaper.”

The man actually dropped the box he was holding. It clattered as it hit the ground. Then he leaped over the bike, dodged past Dahl, and pulled Maura into his arms. Leaper tipped her back, looked deeply into her eyes, and kissed her forehead. “That's as close as I'm gonna get. I don't want a giant in my face about kissing his girl.” He set Maura on her feet and dashed back to the box.

Mirth bubbled up inside of her. She laughed out loud. She hoped she never got used to these guys, that they would always continue to shock, amuse, and amaze her. “Let me know if you need beer,” she said as she headed up the stairs.

“Always,” said Leaper. “Let the keg roll down.”

As she gained the landing, she looked back at them. SEALs. Teammates. Brothers for life—that's how Declan phrased it. Somehow, it felt as if her world had gotten bigger with them added to it, as if she had twice the number of brothers now. Declan had changed her world tremendously. She wondered if he knew how much.

Every SEAL liked to push himself, to see how hard he could drive his body until it gave out. Today was the SuperFROG Triathlon, and Declan was primed for the test.

It was true that several weeks after surgery, he showed a massive improvement in his state of health. Maura was running every morning, and he was joining her for a swim each afternoon. They pushed each other to lift weights and continued to increase the time of their workouts each day. Declan still didn't feel the recovery from his surgery was going fast enough, but for the most part he had greater strength each day, and that counted for a lot. A short time from now was the beginning of the SuperFROG Triathlon, and he actually felt…jittery.

“Roll the nerves into a ball, paint it a vibrant color like red or violet, and swallow it for energy,” Gich used to say.

Declan stopped his pacing, centered himself, swallowed the nervous energy, and went back to his equipment check. Dahl and Leaper had done a terrific job on upgrading his tech. He had his road bicycle with the prosthetic already attached, his running leg, and the crutches to help him out of the water and onto the beach. Getting permission for the two crutches had been worth it, because he could move faster using the strength in his arms than most men could run. In his mind, if he could compete in the triathlon, he would be adding significantly to a job at BUD/S, and if he couldn't, well, then maybe it was time to hang it up professionally too. The SEAL Trainees deserved the best. For him personally, a lot was riding on this race.

Packing his extra crutches into separate duffels with labels L and R, he put on his running gear and number. Having signed in and gotten his registration packet the day before, he knew what to expect. First off was the swimming portion, which was 1.2 miles, followed by the 13.1-mile run—a full three loops of the course—and last was the fifty-six-mile biking part. He had done more exercise than that as part of his regular SEAL regime when he was operational. But with the leg, there were going to be challenges.

A noise outside alerted him to Maura's return. She'd started climbing the wall as part of her exercise routine, and now it was hard to get her to use the stairs. “Are you excited?” she panted.

“More than I thought I'd be,” he replied. “Go shower and let's get there early to stage this stuff.”

“Sure thing.” She whipped off her shirt and walked past him.

His eyes were glued to her frame as she unhooked her bra and walked into his bedroom. “No fair!”

“Think of it as inspiration.” The shower turned on and he could hear her singing to herself.

The doorbell rang.

Declan closed the door to the bedroom and let in Leaper, Dahl, and Miller. “What are you clowns up to?”

Leaper was stuffing his face with doughnuts from a giant box of Krispy Kremes. “What?” Leaper asked, opening his mouth wide to show the half-eaten gunk inside.

“Gross,” said Miller as he sipped his giant Starbucks coffee, which would undoubtedly have a least three shots of espresso in it. Dahl was quiet. That was his way. Declan knew these souls as thoroughly as he knew himself.

“How can you drink that without having a heart attack every morning?” asked Declan.

Miller shrugged. “Lucky, I guess.”

Dahl smiled.

Declan nodded. “Something on the counter for you.”

Opening the bag, Miller laughed. “Thanks for being my connection.”

Leaper swallowed loudly. “Don't tell me he got you more dark-chocolate espresso beans. So fucking gross.” Pulling the door of Declan's refrigerator wide, he found the milk, drained it, and then put the empty carton back inside. Slamming the door, he burped loudly and said, “You're out of milk.”

“Thanks,” said Declan, shaking his head. Leaper had been his swim buddy for a long time, and he loved the guy like a brother. His whole Team was family, but at times—when they were all in real life—he had to laugh at how dysfunctional they must appear to the rest of the world.

“Do you have any manners?” asked Miller, stashing the beans in the small hydration pack on his back.

“No,” said Leaper, turning around like a dog chasing his tail. “Where would I put them?” Going to the mirror, he looked in it and then over his shoulder. “See, I have no ass. Isn't that where I'd put them?”

Miller slapped his head. “Get moving and load the gear into the car.”

“Why should I? What are you going to do?” asked Leaper, already picking up two bags.

“I'm going to talk strategy.”

“Miller Johnson, I'm just as good as you are at that task.” Leaper spoke in the voice of a constipated schoolmarm.

“Yeah, but you're standing around guarding gear and I'm swimming, running, and biking alongside of him.” Miller made a shooing gesture with his hand. “Go!”

Leaper sniffed. “I'm not appreciated. I'm not loved. No one wants me around. Oh! Candy! Can I eat this Snickers?”

“Have at it,” said Declan. He rarely tired of being around them. Truth was that he missed them. When you spent so much time in an individual's pocket day in and out, they became a part of you and your life. Damn, he missed his Team. They were his best friends.

Maura yelled from bedroom. “I'm almost ready. I promise not to put on underwear as my celebratory incentive. Well, they're really running shorts with an insert, so it's sort of like panties, but it's not…”

“Hi, Maura,” yelled Miller.

Dahl said, “Greetings, Maura.”

“Oh, crap!” said Maura back. She knew those voices. “Hi, Miller. Dahl. Is Leaper out there too?”

“Loading gear,” replied Declan. He could hear her sigh of relief. That was Leaper's thing, getting a whiff of something going on and teasing the crap out of someone until they wanted to deck him. Uh, his buddy was a cad, uh, he meant, a card.

The Team had started spending more time over at the apartment and doing things with them since they all came back. He'd had his “confessional” moment, when Maura and he had explained that they weren't really married, but they were serious about each other. His Teammates had been pissed for about ten minutes of banter and then they had gotten over it. Thus far, their off-duty time had been a blast.

* * *

Maura was screaming her heart out. “Go! Go! Go!”

Even with his short leg, Declan was outswimming the semiprofessional swimmers. This probably wasn't fair, since Declan could be considered a professional due to his job. She didn't give one hoot about that, though. This triathlon was about saying “I can” to Declan and his life and prepping for his next duty assignment.

“You got this!” Maura shouted.
Damn, he's fast!

Miller was out of the water first. He waited while Declan got his crutches, and then they went up the beach together.

Declan was ahead when they reached the station with gear. Leaper stood guard over Declan's leg and shoes. Declan got both of them on and was ready to go as Miller finished tying his.

The two men moved in unison, talking to each other like this was just a kind of casual run.

“Go for it!” yelled Maura. “Get moving!”

Declan waved.

Maura groaned as she went over to help Leaper haul the bags and crutches over to the bike station. Around her she could hear people swearing as they attempted to shimmy out of wet suits and pull on running clothes and shoes. Why anyone would want to put on that much gear for a triathlon, especially in Southern California, was beyond her. The water was warmer here than it was most places. She swam every day and hadn't shivered once.

“Can't I stay and play with them?” asked Leaper.

“No,” stated Maura definitely. “Today is about Declan, and if you screw it up, I'll bean you! Got it?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he said with a salute, taking all of the gear away from her and carrying it to the next station.

Someday, he'd find the right mate. Leaper just needed someone who was willing to enjoy all that he was. It would definitely take one strong-minded female with a marvelous sense of humor. She'd put on her thinking cap and see whom she could come up with.

Declan was sweating buckets. He felt completely out of shape. He knew part of it was the fact that he had to change his pace with the new running prosthetic. It was geared for only a certain leg stride, and every time he changed the length, he nearly tripped.

Seeing Maura clapping and smiling made it worthwhile. Leaper was standing next to her, giving him the bird.

Declan had to keep from laughing as he reached the station, pulled off the prosthetic, and climbed onto his bike. Wiping his leg down with a towel, he got the sweat off and put a dry cap on the bottom before he pushed it into the biking leg and strapped in.

Slugging down a few sips of sports drink, he nodded to Miller, and the two of them took off on the last leg of the event. He had seen the pride on Maura's face as she hovered just off the sidelines.

He had to admit, he was pretty pleased with his performance. He'd registered as military and not handi-abled, and he was competing against guys from all branches as well as civilians.

Moki Martin, a retired Navy SEAL who'd started the triathlon, had made it available to all active duty no matter the designation. He had made his mark supporting fitness in the community and the Teams. He was a credit to the community.

“Get moving,” said Miller, studying Declan. “I can see the wheels turning, old man. This isn't the time to think. You've got to beat me. Or are you a fucking tadpole?”

Declan gritted his teeth, peddling as fast and hard as he could. “Screw you, FNG, I'm a frogman.” Calling a fellow SEAL a fucking new guy or a West Coast or East Coast puke was a compliment of sorts between the Teammates.

Miller smiled as Declan passed him. “Ah, now I see the resemblance.”

* * *

The men were in sight. Maura threw her water bottle at Leaper to get his attention. He'd been trying to score a slice of pie from one of the vendors. That man seemed to have only two things perpetually on his mind: food and jokes.

Leaper looked at her.

She pointed.

He nodded and picked up the crutches he'd been holding. The rest of Declan's gear was in the car. If he wanted a different limb, she'd run back, but she was betting he'd want to air his short leg and give it a break.

“Yay! Declan! Yay! Miller!” Maura shouted at them, jumping up and down as the two men crossed the finish line together, holding their hands up in the air.

Dahl bellowed. This was the shout of a man with a baritone voice, which sounded more like the sound of a bull in need of food.

“In a sign of unity, Miller Johnson and Declan Swifton tie for first place in the military division and second overall,” said the announcer.

Declan squeezed the brakes hard, sending his back tire spinning and turning the bike to the side. He got his foot down before the bike tipped over. “What? Second? Miller, man, I'm sorry. We're slipping.” He'd done it, completed the race. He was glad he'd tested his stamina.

“
We
are NOT slipping. It's all on you, buddy, and that broke-down bike of yours. Paula is a crappy name for a bicycle. Pick something new. If you had gotten the bike I told you to get, and named it Speedy, we'd be tied for first. Damn, I hope the CO doesn't hear about it. Two SEALs in second—we'll never live it down.” Miller lifted the bottom of his shirt, revealing a lean six-pack of abs, and wiped his face.

“Too late.” The CO of Team FIVE was standing next to them. “I have to see my men compete. Decent job.” He shook hands with Declan and Miller, waving Leaper away when he tried to get in on the action.

“Sir, good to see you. This is Maura.” Declan introduced her to the CO as he unstrapped the leg and got off his bike. The bottom of his leg was bloody, but it didn't look too bad.

Maura promised herself she wouldn't hover in front of Declan's boss, so she shook hands with the CO. “Nice to meet you. I've heard good things.”

“About me? I doubt it,” he replied.

She laughed, and then the CO did too.

“Have a great day. I have to go find a certain Commander from the Helo Squadron on NAS.” Lowering his voice, he said, “He bet me that his Helo Pilots would beat my guys.” He grinned broadly. “The wife is going to love what I buy her.”

The CO nodded at them and departed. The man literally had a bounce in his step.

Dahl had the good sense to nod at the CO and slip away. He was targeting the female division winner, whose blond hair was being freed from her braids at this very moment. Her smile was bright and she was a stunner.

“Wow,” said Leaper. “Good thing you didn't goatfuck this, Declan! We'd be scrubbing latrines if you lost.”

“Correction,” said Miller. “Declan has new duty, so you and I would be scrubbing…or actually you.” He sniffed loudly. “That kind of work is too drudge-like for my tenderly tapered digits.” Glancing over his shoulder, Miller sniffed. “Dahl is too much of an artful dodger to get stuck doing anything he doesn't want to. That man is blessed.”

“C'mon, you animals. Let's thank Moki, watch the ceremony, and cook up those steaks Maura bought us.” Declan leaned over and kissed Maura soundly on the lips. “Thanks for cheering for me.”

“Always,” she replied. “Come to think of it, I'm pretty hungry myself.”

Leaper made kissing noises at Miller, who put his hand on Leaper's face and pushed him away. The bike and Leaper fell over, landing in the grass.

“Nice,” said Declan. “Now I need to get a new bike. It has Leaper cooties on it.”

“Uh, you can hose them off. Just use bleach,” said Miller, getting back on his bike and riding away from Leaper, who had already lifted the damaged bike over his head and was running after Miller.