A SEAL's Fantasy

“When’s he calling back?”

“He didn’t say.”

Of course he didn’t.

“You okay?” Lucas stepped forward, looking concerned. He shot a glance at the big house, then back at Dominic. “Do you want me to do some more searching? See what happened?”

Lucas thought he could poke his digital fingers into a U.S. Navy SEAL operation. One that took place outside of the country, and was classified as a top-secret government mission. Dominic gave a halfhearted laugh, scrubbing his hands over his face. Likely big brother probably could. But that didn’t mean he was going to.

“No. I’ll wait.”

“Want breakfast?” Lucas jerked his head toward the house.

Appetite gone, Dominic shook his head. He’d take the call in private.

“I’ll check in later,” he said, pulling his helmet back on. Even though he was on private property, if he didn’t wear it, his mother would have a tizzy. He didn’t bother with the straps, though. Just kicked his bike to life and roared off. Three minutes later, he shoved open his cabin door, threw his leather coat over the back of a chair and strode into his bedroom.

Yep. There was his cell phone. Right where he said it was. He snagged it off the dresser, checking even though he knew there would be no message, nor a return number. He debated for two seconds.

As far as the Navy was concerned, he might be on leave, but Dominic knew he was now on duty. Whatever was going down would take his skill, his talent and his absolute attention. He’d been up all night, barely slept the one before. It wasn’t a part of his SEAL training that allowed him to sleep at will and awaken instantly, but his years in the Navy had honed that talent. He knew if the phone rang, he’d be immediately alert, even from the deepest sleep.

He didn’t even glance at the neatly made bed as he headed for the kitchen.

He grabbed a box of cereal, a quart of milk and a huge bowl.

It might not be pancakes, but it beat the hell out of field rations.

He was on his second helping when his cell lit up.

It didn’t finish the first ring before he had it to his ear.

“Castillo.”

“Trouble, Auntie,” Petty Officer Brody Lane said in a low growl. His use of Dominic’s call sign instead of his name made it clear this was military business. “You at home?”

“Yeah, took leave. No point sitting around like a pansy on light duty.”

“You up to handling a problem?”

Shit.

“Name it.”

“The Candy Man grabbed Sir.”

Son of a bitch.

Lieutenant Phillip Banks. Call sign Sir.

Dominic’s gut clenched, adrenaline rushing hard. His fist hit the wall before he even realized he’d lifted his hand. He didn’t have to like the guy to be furious. Furious and, yeah, a little scared. Part of training for the mission had been studying detailed information about the Candy Man, as Pedro Alvarez Valdero had been tagged by the team. The man was a cold-blooded sociopath, his morals as low as his ambition was high. He specialized in drugs, torture and various forms of corruption.

If he’d grabbed Banks, that meant the mission had failed. The team wouldn’t leave until they got the lieutenant back. And, of course, completed the mission.

“You want me to get him out?”

Brody’s laugh was a soft gust.

“We got that covered. It ain’t gonna be fast, though. While we deal, we need someone to defuse the repercussions.”

Repercussions. Dominic stood at the window, glaring out at the soft morning sun as it bounced off the trees. The Candy Man was known for forcing cooperation by kidnapping and torturing his victims’ family members.

“I thought Sir was repercussion-free,” Dominic said quietly. Not that he was close to the guy, but he was sure someone had said the guy’s parents had died, leaving him all alone with his uptight self.

“Tap your repercussions.”

Castillo Security? If searching out Banks’s family required those kind of resources, did Dominic really need to defuse the situation? Wouldn’t the team have Banks out before it was an issue?

A heartbeat later, Dominic closed his eyes and bit back a groan.

Yeah. It was already an issue or Brody wouldn’t have dropped the order.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Top priority.”

“Who do I report to?”

The silence was only broken by static.

Then the line went dead.

Dominic knew it wasn’t a bad connection.

It was Brody’s way of telling him they’d just crossed over into black-ops territory. This particular mission wasn’t sanctioned, hadn’t been green-lighted—or probably even heard of—by the powers that be.

If he got in trouble, he was on his own.

If he needed help, he’d have to find it himself.

And if he screwed up, he’d be tidily disciplined.

The military was funny that way.

Dominic dumped his bowl into the sink, only taking a second to rinse it. He knew Rosa would be by to clean before shutting the cabin up until his return, and dirty dishes pissed her off.

He grabbed his duffel, checked his wallet for cash and pulled his jacket back on. As he straddled the Harley, he punched a button on his phone.

“Lucas, I got a job for you.”