SEAL Team Seven Books 6&7 Quinn and Devon Read online

  Table of Contents

  Epilogue

  Foreword

  Kelly

  Quinn

  Devon

  Logan

  Ariel

  Seal Team Seven Books 6&7 Quinn and Devon

  Jordan Silver

  Copyright © 2017 by Jordan Silver

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Foreword

  1. Kelly

  2. Kelly

  3. Quinn

  4. Quinn

  5. Quinn

  6. Devon

  7. Devon

  8. Quinn

  9. Quinn

  10. Kelly

  11. Kelly

  12. Quinn

  13. Quinn

  14. Quinn

  15. Quinn

  16. Kelly

  17. Quinn

  18. Quinn

  19. Quinn

  20. Kelly

  21. Devon

  22. Quinn

  23. Quinn

  24. Quinn

  25. Devon

  26. Quinn

  27. Quinn

  28. Devon

  29. Quinn

  30. Quinn

  31. Devon

  32. Devon

  33. Devon

  34. Devon

  35. Devon

  36. Devon

  37. Devon

  38. Devon

  39. Devon

  40. Logan

  41. Quinn

  42. Devon

  43. Devon

  44. Devon

  45. Devon

  46. Kelly

  47. Devon

  48. Ariel

  49. Devon

  50. Devon

  51. Devon

  52. Kelly

  53. Devon

  54. Devon

  55. Quinn

  56. Devon

  57. Devon

  58. Devon

  59. Devon

  60. Devon

  61. Devon

  62. Devon

  Epilogue

  Foreword

  Diplomacy…bullshit wrapped in a sweet tongue. The ancients call this guile. It’s used by men with dark hearts who seek to destroy…trust no one.

  1

  Kelly

  “Where are you taking me?” I struggled against the restraints as I tried to take stock of my surroundings. My heart was still beating too loudly in my ears and the tinny taste of fear lingered in my mouth.

  I held my breath as best I could and strained to hear what was going on around me over the vicious thumping of my heart. That saying ‘blind fear’ is very accurate. It felt like all my senses, especially that one, was on have the fritz.

  I worked my jaw when I realized I was gritting my teeth too hard to stop myself from wetting my pants and it was beginning to hurt.

  My body was tense, poised and ready to take flight, but I couldn’t have moved even had I not been tied up and immobilized. Fear held me in its grip so hard that I’d become almost paralyzed with it.

  I concentrated on slowing my breath down if only to stop the unhealthy racing of my heart, and started to settle down once I realized that there was no immediate danger.

  It took a sec for my mind to send that message to my body, but my limbs soon started to relax, bit by bit and the pain eased from my limbs.

  Once I finally got my bearings I used my shoulder to feel the place where I now leaned, and the ridged pattern of the hard cold steel gave me some idea of where I was or at least what I was being held captive in.

  It felt like one of those old rusted containers down by the tracks that my friends and I had liked to goof around in when we were younger.

  This couldn’t be good. That sickening feeling came back with a bang and was now full blown terror. I was headed hard towards panic mode as the air got trapped in my lungs.

  The fear threatened to choke me and I came very close to passing out, but my natural fighting instinct prevailed and I fought the feeling until it passed again.

  ‘Fear is your greatest opponent. Never give in, you fight it with everything you’ve got.’ I heard my daddy’s voice in my head and never wished for him more. ‘If you can defeat fear you’re still in the game.’

  It was one of his many mantras that had seen me through even the most harrowing situations. Though I’ve never found myself in anything approaching this magnitude before.

  Still, one of daddy’s life lessons was that my life was worth more than anything I could ever face no matter who or what. As long as I remember that, it would be the catalyst I need to get me out of anything. The survival instinct he called it.

  He also taught me that no man on earth had any power over me, nothing more than what I was willing to give. The reminder gave me a much needed second wind and a resurgence of determination, which helped to relax me even more.

  I regulated my breathing as best I could, using all the exercises I’d learned. I tried going into a meditative state but it was no use, too much panic, but at least the mind numbing fear was now gone.

  I opened my eyes in the darkness, a lot calmer now, but still no closer to an answer as to how to get the hell outta this mess.

  The space was pitch black and it took some time, but once my eyes adjusted to the dark I saw that I was indeed in a container; one of the long ones semis and freight trains haul.

  There were no windows and the lone door was at the other end, what seemed like a million miles away. For some reason this scared me more than if I’d woken up in a room somewhere. At least then I’d know that I was still local, close enough for daddy to find me.

  This could only mean one thing though, I was being transported somewhere. That thought made my chest tight and that overwhelming need to pee came back full force. My tummy was already hurting from holding it in.

  I started shouting again though I was sure my captors couldn’t hear my screams through the metal of my prison and over the rushing of the wheels as they sped through the night.

  It felt like they were going at least ninety in this death trap. Pretty sure at this rate we’d be past the city limits in no time, if we hadn’t already. Away from everything I know and everyone who could help me.

  I swallowed the rising panic as the enormity of my situation finally kicked in. I’m on my own, can rely only on myself, and I haven’t the faintest idea what the hell is going on.

  What I’d erroneously thought was a sick infantile joke at the hands of my friends just a short while ago, has fast become something far more sinister.

  I clenched my legs tightly together so that I didn’t wet myself as the gravity of the situation came crashing down on me. This is the stuff nightmares are made of.

  An urban legend, that you and your friends tell one another late at night in the dark to scare the crap out of each other.

  What I wouldn’t give to be at one of my best friend Connie’s crappy sleepovers, or trapped in some too real dream.

  The flop sweat pouring off me in the enclosed space was a solid reminder that this was no dream. Still it didn’t seem real, a bit incongruous if you ask me. Stuff like this just doesn’t happen to people like me.

  I’ve always avoided trouble, had always been a model child and even now in my third year of college, I had yet to give my parents anything to seriously worry about.

  Okay that’s probably bullshit. Dad has lamented time and again that my antics would send
him to an early grave, but he’s the king of exaggeration.

  Really Kelly? You’re thinking about this shit now? I knew it was my mind’s way of protecting me from the true horror of my situation but I also knew I couldn’t afford to linger there for too long.

  Instead I closed my eyes and concentrated on beating back the fear that was insistent on taking me over. “Step off bitch.”

  I flexed my shoulders, as much as I could while being trussed up like a hog going to market and let my mind go blank.

  Daddy had taught me a lot of neat tricks, what he calls survival exercises, and they’ve never been needed more than at this moment.

  I’m blind yes, don’t know where I am, where I’m headed or who snatched me, but this was one of those things I’d been trained for.

  All I have to do is remain calm and use whatever resources come my way when they let me out of this death trap. I’m a fighter, I know how to use both mind and body to get out of any situation.

  I kept repeating that over and over to myself until I felt my body relax. As the fear receded and my mind began to clear, anger reared its head, good. Now I know I’m back in the game. If fear is a great defeater, controlled rage has always been my friend.

  Rage reminds me that I am human and have certain inalienable rights that protect me from assholes who seek to do harm. Rage gives me added strength when I need it, and boy do I need it.

  I let the rage build until it was at a nice simmering boil just beneath the surface. My training was finally kicking in. Daddy always said in certain situations a good head of anger can get you a long way, as long as you can control it and not let it control you.

  Anger reminds you that you’re still in the fight, that you still have a chance. Anger doesn’t throw punches like a pussy, but has some power behind it.

  I went through my mind and pulled out everything daddy had taught me from the time I was a little girl. While other parents were teaching their kids not to take candy from strangers, daddy was teaching me how to kick a stranger’s ass.

  With my thoughts finally in order, I worked on my breathing and getting my body under complete control. Each time my mind drifted to the end of this road and what that might be, I dragged it back from the brink.

  No matter what, I will fight ‘til the end. If nothing else I will make daddy proud by not giving in too easy. Maybe that could be my epitaph. ‘She put up a valiant fight.’

  Of course I wanted to curl into a ball and cry until he came and got me, but I could hear his strong reassuring voice in my head. Yelling at me to use everything I had in my power to survive. Fresh tears started as I envisioned our nighttime ritual from my youth.

  Ever since I was old enough to remember, daddy would tuck me in. Whenever he was at home that is and not off saving the world.

  He’d sit next to my bed and read to me, before brushing the hair back from my face with his reassuring hand. I loved that best. It always made me feel so safe, loved.

  Then he’d lean in close and kiss my forehead before whispering in my ear, what a precious person I am. How no one was better or stronger. How I could do and be anything I want, because I was made special and there was only one me.

  Those words always made me feel taller, stronger braver. Like I could take on the world. Thinking of him and mom, the strength they’d tried to instill in me, made me all the more determined to fight. Though my mind struggled to sway from one thing to the next, I fought to concentrate on the here and now.

  There was no point in wondering ‘why’ this was happening. No point in berating myself with ‘what ifs’. Now was the time for me to formulate a plan that would see myself coming out on the other end of this thing, with myself intact.

  The chances of me being able to talk myself out of this one didn’t look too promising, so it’s elbows to ass time as daddy would say.

  Since my abductors were out of sight for now, the best I could do was plan for what came next. I’ve always done dry runs in my head of what I would do if I found myself in any kind of life threatening situation, but I had nothing for this scenario.

  I’d always envisioned myself fighting off my assailant and kicking the shit out of him. But I’d never imagined anything remotely close to this shit show.

  My mind wandered again and I recalled my day from the time I woke up this morning until now. It sure hadn’t felt like today was the day I was going to die. So I won’t, I refuse to. Back to work Kelly, don’t be maudlin.

  Since I didn’t have much to go on, I just kept repeating the same questions in my head over and over, as the wheels of whatever vehicle was hauling this thing sped through the night, heading to who knows where.

  The one question that stuck out the most is, just what the hell is going on? How could a person just going about their life, minding their own business, end up in a situation like this?

  I guess it’s a myth after all that if you live your life a certain way, avoid murky situations, and just be an all around decent person you’d avoid evil. Thanks to dad I’ve never been that gullible, though I did operate under the assumption that at least part of it was true.

  Even with my straitlaced lifestyle, I still knew to look over my shoulder and to be super vigilant about my surroundings, especially after going away to college.

  With all my years of informal training, and the instilled self-preservation that my parents had taught me, security was ever uppermost in my mind.

  I never in a million years would’ve seen myself here, in the belly of a container, at the mercy of obviously unscrupulous men.

  It was the surprise and suddenness of the attack that had caught me off guard and led to my being here. Had I been aware from the get, they would’ve never got the drop on me.

  Silly me, because I was back in my hometown where the streets were usually safe, and everyone knew each other, I’d let my guard down.

  One minute I was leaving my best friend’s home on the way back to mine after a night of girly fun and games, and the next someone was putting a bag over my head and dragging me off.

  At first I’d thought it was just one of my silly friends playing a trick on me, though this one was a little out there even for them. Besides they usually kept the scarier pranks for around Halloween, which was months away.

  They usually pull less macabre tactics when they want to torment me with their teenage antics on a day-to-day basis.

  I’d been expecting them to pull some kind of stunt to welcome me back into the fold, so though I was caught asleep at the wheel, it was all in good fun.

  After the initial shock had worn off I’d cussed at my friends in between bouts of laughter and trying to catch my breath. I even started to tell them how cool it was that they’d finally found a way to get the better of me after so many failed attempts in the past.

  I was all set to congratulate them on getting one over on me after years of me having the upper hand in the pranking game, but my alarm bells had started ringing.

  Usually they’d be laughing and high fiving each other, while speaking in those stupid B-movie monotones meant to strike fear in the heart. But this time they were quiet. Too quiet!

  I’m not sure what finally alerted me to the fact that these weren’t my friends out for a night of fun. Maybe it was the haste in which the men moved, the lack of giggles and snickers that usually accompanied my friends when they were up to mischief, or their smell.

  Their sour scent hadn’t been one I recognized. And then one of the men had spoken and I knew for sure I’d never heard that voice before.

  The voice was gruff, the tone harsh and menacing. It struck fear in my heart and my knees weakened and gave out so that they had to drag me. Once my brain started functioning again every horror movie I’d ever seen came flashing across my mind.

  I tried kicking out at them as they flanked me on both sides, screaming bloody murder, doing my best to escape. Then a hand came around my throat hard enough to crush my larynx and the screams remained trapped in my lungs.

&
nbsp; It’s funny, but you never know how you’ll truly react in certain situations no matter how much you try to imagine or prepare for it. I have to admit I never thought I’d bitch out though.

  Not saying that I did then either, but by the time I knew what was going on I’d lost too much ground to bounce back. Not much I could’ve done with my head covered and my hands restrained anyhow. So I moved onto door number two; use your head.

  I couldn’t for the life of me think of why, or what I’d done to bring this on myself. But I guess when you’re not expecting trouble it’s hard to comprehend when it finds you out of nowhere.

  I did the whole retracing my steps in my head thing, thinking maybe I’d pissed someone off without being aware. People are touchous as shit these days and it doesn’t take much to set most of them off.

  I’d been home for the last few days and hadn’t had any run-ins with any undesirables as far as I know, and I hadn’t pissed anyone off at school enough to have them follow me back here to settle a score.

  Most of the guys I’ve had to let down easy in the last three years became very understanding once they met my dad, and there was no one else who could be holding a grudge that I am aware of.