replica of a Middle Eastern fort, a Roman-themed shopping center, an outdoor coliseum, Vasco de Gama Waterworld, and associated shops, restaurants, casinos, and offices.
The wharf where the target ship was moored rested on the other side of replica of a Tang Dynasty fortress, which was still under construction. The hundred-foot battlements hid the area from any possible tourist observation and kept the place as private and secluded as anything could possibly be on the jam-packed island of Macau. The seclusion was an unasked-for yet appreciated windfall to the SEAL team members, who now didn’t have to contend with the possibility of tourists interrupting their operations. They were lucky. Even at 0100 hours, the area on the other side of the fortress construction site would be filled with people eager to spend their money and see for themselves what made Macau such a lusted-for pearl of the Orient.
After the mission brief, which took up the first thirty minutes of the flight, everyone sacked out for five hours. This time Walker didn’t dream. Exhaustion took hold and smashed him down until he was shaken awake by Ruiz.
“Where are we?” Walker asked groggily.
“We passed over Guam an hour ago.”
Walker pulled himself to his feet. The plan’s transponder identified it as a commercial cargo plane, and this C-141 had been painted the colors of a well-known package-delivery carrier. The ruse would grant them access to the airspace and allow overflight of their target. In addition to their battle rattle, each of them had been assigned High Altitude/High Opening (HAHO) tanks and masks. Normally they’d get a chill suit to defray the extreme cold of the upper atmosphere, but they were going directly into combat and they didn’t want to change clothes in the middle of a firefight. Although Walker had never participated in an actual HAHO, he’d practiced them at KIWG.
“Holmes wants to see you,” Ruiz said. He stood next to his gear and ran through it item by item to ensure it was in perfect working order.
Walker glanced at his own pile of gear. Pack. Gator case for carrying his Stoner during the jump. Ammunition box. Body armor. MBITR. Vest. NVGs. Various other pieces of equipment he hadn’t yet inventoried, all of it looking as if it had just come off the shelf of the Super SEAL Team Wal-Mart. Yeah, he knew what Holmes wanted. He’d stared daggers as he’d given the mission brief. Walker had known full well that when he’d chosen to steal a few moments with Jen, he’d have to pay the price. It looked like it was time to pay. Picturing Jen, though, it was hard to argue that it hadn’t been worth it.
“Yes, boss,” Walker said. He stood at parade rest with his hands folded into each other behind him.
“‘Sir’ will do,” Holmes said, not looking up from the imagery he was studying on his tablet. “Ruiz says boss. He’s from the South so I excuse it.”
“Yes, sir.” Walker fought the urge to roll his eyes. Whatever old-school textbook Holmes had used to learn how to be a leader, he must have excelled on the chapter about
Finally Holmes set his tablet on the bench beside him. Walker watched him, knowing that the man had two choices. He could either stand up and get in Walker’s face, or he could sit back and relax, demonstrating that he didn’t have to work in order to get his point across. Walker had seen both worked to perfection and knew how to deal with each.
“SEALs need to be ready at all times. I spoke with Instructor Reno a little while ago and he said that he was disappointed that your equipment wasn’t prepared.”
“I did. He told me that you were one of his better SEAL trainees. Not the best, mind you, but among the better. He asked why you’d been chosen, but I explained that it couldn’t be disclosed at this time. Did you ever let
“No, sir.”
“And why is that?”
Walker noted the effectiveness of Holmes’s ability to deal with the situation. He looked too calm, too cool, sitting back with his arm resting along the backrest of the bench seat.
“I respect Instructor Reno, sir. I—”
“But you don’t respect me?” Holmes shook his head.
“No, sir. It’s just that I’ve spent the last eleven weeks with Instructor Reno and I know him better.”
“Ahh. So you have to know someone to respect them.”
“No, sir. I respect those appointed as superior over me.”
“And what did I tell you?”
“To get my gear ready, sir.”
“And did you?”
“No, sir.”
“You’re full of ‘no sirs’ tonight, aren’t you, son?”
“No, sir.” But then as Holmes raised an eyebrow, Walker said, “Yes, sir.”
Holmes leaned forward, draping his elbows over his knees. He rubbed the Annapolis ring that was in place of a wedding band. “When you fail to live up to the standards set by Instructor Reno, you have to do more physical training. When you fail to live up to the standards of SEAL Team 666, you let down yourself, the other team members, and me, and you put all of our lives at risk.”
Walker felt the air leave him as disappointment at his own failings filled his chest.
“More important than our lives, you put America at risk, Walker. The president and the Sissy expect us to perform a mission, one in which the sovereignty and safety of the United States of America is paramount. To ignore orders that support this mission is akin to loading rounds into the weapon that kills Uncle Sam. Is that clear?”
Walker gulped. “S-sorry, sir,” he stammered.
“Don’t be sorry, SEAL, just stop acting like an FNG.”
“Yes, sir.” Walker stood for a few seconds before he realized that he was released. He turned to go, but evidently Holmes wasn’t quite done.
“Make sure you zero that Stoner. Get Ruiz to help you. I don’t want you winging me in the head when you’re shooting a hundred and eighty degrees the other way.”
“Yes, sir.”
Walker moved back toward the others near the rear of the plane feeling like he’d just been punched in the gut, chest, and head.
Laws spoke first. “Did he give you the Ring Speech?”
Walker looked at Laws through hollow eyes.
“Was he rubbing his ring while he talked to you?” Laws asked. “Did he use the word ‘paramount’? We call that the Ring Speech.”
Fratty snickered. “That’s a good speech. Left me feeling like a deckhand on the
“I wanted to crawl under a rock,” Ruiz admitted with a sad smile.
Walker suddenly felt a little better. Being singled out was the absolute worst. But the shared-misery philosophy was a foundational belief in the military and was the cement that kept men together even during the toughest times.
Walker set about unpacking his gear and laying it out on the decking of the C-141 Starlifter. Soon Ruiz was next to him, helping him organize and unwrap the new items. Fratty joined a few minutes later, then finally Laws.
“Was she worth it?” Fratty asked.
A smile crept across Walker’s face as Jen’s freckles appeared before him. “Yeah.”
Over the next hour, they readied his gear and repacked it for the mission. Since he’d lugged his entire issue, he had a lot of redundant items that he wouldn’t need. These were in a separate pile.
As they worked, Walker found the other SEALs opening up to him a bit more.
Fratolilio was an anachronism. His was a join-the-Navy-or-go-to-jail scenario, but instead of boosting cars or stealing hubcaps, he had been a hacker who’d been caught changing the grades for all the seniors in his high school. For the first time in the history of Clara Barton High School, everyone graduated—one hundred percent,
