The Chosen One Ch. 03

When Adam said the word sterile, every SEAL in the clearing knew exactly what they were being asked to do. They had all been on some type of – black ops – before, but they all realized in an instant that these missions would be so far off the books, only a handful of people would know of the team's existence.

"I have just one question for you, Adam, before I give you my answer at least," Greg said in a low tone.

"Fire away, Chief."

Greg took a hit off his beer and then leaned toward his old classmate. "Who put you up to this?" Swanson's tone indicated he was not going to settle for an answer of 'I can't tell you that'.

There was a pause, and to Kevin, it appeared as if the veteran Team Chief would leave. "Adam, they have a right to know. If you want them to be ghosts, then they need to know everything," Kevin said.

Adam looked straight into Swanson's eyes. "The President of the United States."

There was a shocked gasp from the others as the words rang in the air like a church bell. The two SEALs' eyes remained locked in a tight stare, neither of them flinching or giving ground. With a quick movement, Swanson sat back and downed his beer.

When Adam saw the can tip upside down, he reached in and grabbed a fresh one. After tossing it to the seasoned Chief, he turned to the group. "Moment of truth gentlemen, are you in or out? If you leave, I won't think any less of you, but this conversation never happened."

When they remained seated, Adam realized he had just made a brand new SEAL team. "Going once – twice – last chance boys and girls." Not one of the men budged. "Welcome to SEAL Team Six."

**********

The rotor blades were still spinning strong as the four men jumped into the black SUV. A stocky, salt and pepper haired man, wearing slacks and a blue polo shirt jumped behind the wheel and sped off within seconds of the doors closing.

Once the SUV was clear, the rotors began to slow on the plain looking H-60 and H-46 helicopters. One of the pilots looked out over the Fort Story soccer field; he didn't see a single human being in sight. "Wow, son of bitch actually pulled it off," he whispered in surprise.

**********

The eleven highly trained SEALs were laughing so hard, that some even sputtered out their beer, nearly choking as Greg continued with the stories. "...so there he was, ass stuck up in the air and caught in the concertina wire. Adam was yelling at our boat crew to hurry up, and all around us the instructors were setting off demo and shit."

Kevin almost fell out of his lawn chair as the image played through his mind. "Stop – I can't – I can't breathe," he said through gasping breaths.

Jack Patrick was laughing so hard that he had to set his beer down to keep from spilling it. "Oh shit, I – I could just see you like that," he blurted out to the team leader. "How'd you guys finally get him out?" he asked through restrained chuckles.

Greg looked at him with a grin. "He was stuck so bad we had to pull his pants off. He finished the O-course in just his underwear." Three of the men, including Kevin, fell out of their seats and rolled on the soft grass holding their sides.

Adam tried hard not to smirk at the memories that flooded his mind. "Are you about through, Greg?"

"Oh hell no, remember that cute little thing who wanted to dance with you graduation night?"

He was about to tell his old classmate that some things were better left in the past, when he noticed Kevin out of the corner of his eye. He saw his trusted point man roll onto his knees, place his hand on the Desert Eagle tucked in his loose shirt, and stare out into the thick woods. He could tell that the werewolf's instincts had kicked in at the approach of more people. "Relax, Kevin, I asked him to join us."

Kevin's gaze remained on the tree line, even though no other visitors were visible. "Whoever it is, was he supposed to bring a friend?"

"No, he's supposed to be alone," Adam whispered as he too reached behind him to palm the handle of his own Eagle."

Everyone's face took on a stern glare as they all watched the tree line. Within moments, Vice Admiral Eric Olmsted entered the clearing. He saw the faces of the much younger men; glaring with stone cold stares. When he saw Adam with his hand behind his back, he began to wonder why the SEAL team leader was so jumpy. "You gonna shoot me, Dawson, or give me a beer?"

"Nice to see you, Admiral. Who'd you bring with you?" Adam's tone was one of respect, but at the same time, indicating a hint of annoyance.

As Eric walked towards the cooler, another man walked into the clearing. He had on a flowered Hawaiian shirt and jeans. The baseball cap he wore covered most of the greying hair beneath it. When he took off the sunglasses, everyone realized who the intruder was.

"Attention on deck," Jack Patrick shouted

All the men either jumped out of their chairs or sprang off the ground. They all stood at attention as Eric reached into the cooler and retrieved two cold beers. After tossing one to President Henry Walker, he retrieved two chairs.

Sitting down, Walker opened the beer and swallowed the entire contents in one gulp. The cold liquid made his eyes feel like they were being pounded on from the inside and he contorted in pain. "Oh damn, fucking brain freeze is a bitch!"

Eric Olmstead, the reigning Bull Frog, looked around at the statue-like men. "You clowns gonna stand around like that all day, or are we going to drink some beer?"

The group relaxed and grabbed their drinks as they watched Adam reach in for a fresh beer and toss it to Walker. He smiled back at him, and then popped the can open. "Can't tell you how much I needed this. No reporters, no fucking cameras going off in my face, no one shoving a piece of paper at me to sign... You guys live a pretty good life."

Adam looked at the man who started him down this path. "With all due respect Mr. President..."

Walker shot his hand up. "Stop right there, Dawson. I came out here for some fucking peace and quiet along with some free beer. You start with all that due respect shit, I'll have to stomp your ass in the dirt in front of your men." Adam tried hard not to laugh at the empty threat as he watched the new team members reach for their wallets.

"I'm in for ten," Kevin yelled.

"No way shithead, Adam's too old. I got fifteen on Walker," V-man replied.

"Put me in for ten on Dawson taking it in the first round," Jack Patrick yelled.

Adam couldn't contain it a moment longer and burst out laughing. After a few hardy chuckles, he looked at the President with a smile. "Would you mind telling me what in the hell you're doing out here without protection?"

"I have no idea what you mean. I've got two goons in the car, and I'm sitting in the middle of..." He turned towards Eric and whispered. "Where are we again?"

"Bum fucked Egypt."

"In the middle of bum fucked Egypt, surrounded by, what I can only guess are, some very capable SEALs. How much damn protection does one guy need for crying out loud?" Walker took another hit of his second beer. "Wow, that's fucking cold."

Adam knew that with the President's relaxed demeanor and carefree language, he was out for a social call and nothing more. "So – Henry – do you do this often?"

"Not really. I tried it a few years back, and man did my wife throw a cow." He leaned in toward the group of men. "She fucking grounded me for Christ's sake. Can you believe that shit?" The SEALs broke out laughing at the thought of the First Lady coming down hard on her husband.

Henry Walker sat back with a big grin and took a much slower drink this time. Setting the beer down on the armrest, he looked around at the smiling faces and then focused on Adam. "So, is this your new team or just a group of highly trained men out during the weekday with nothing better to do?"

Adam studied the man for just a few brief moments. "This is my team."

"The one we discussed?"

"Yes."

"So you have accepted my offer."

As Adam prepared to respond, Greg Swanson cut him off. "Since you started all this shit, why don't you enlighten us as to what you – really – want?"

"What's your name, sailor?" Walker asked.

"Chief Petty Officer Gregory Swanson."

"It's really quite simple, Chief. Kill the bad guys who mean to harm the people of the United States and her interests. You have to do it with no ties to us or our allies. If captured or killed, we never heard of you." Walker looked around at the faces of the men.

He regarded Lieutenant Commander Adam Dawson. "This team you've picked out, are they really the best the SEALs have to offer?"

"I feel we can accomplish any mission assigned to us."

"Are you willing to back that up with proof, Mr. Dawson?" the older SEAL blurted out. Eric Olmstead looked down at his beer and then brought it up to his lips and took a long drink. He knew what was coming.

Adam's face took on a cautious look. "And what may I ask is your definition of proof?"

The oldest active duty Navy SEAL stood and moved to the center of the group. "I've been set up to oversee all assignments that will be tossed your way. Your fearless Team Leader, here, will report directly to me and no one else. All your records, military, dental, medical; your birth certificates, if necessary, will be kept in my office in a safe. From this moment on, the government of the United States has no record of you; you guys don't exist."

Kevin leaned toward him. "You didn't get to the proof part, Admiral."

The old SEAL stared down at the younger one. "I want you guys to take down a single man without a trace."

Wolfie began to chuckle. "That's it? That's the test? Shit Sir, consider the guy a fucking corpse," he said as he pretended to fire an imaginary rifle.

"Oh, I doubt it will be that easy, kid." He turned to face Adam. "You have three weeks to train with your men, plan the mission, and take the subject out. To add a greater degree of difficulty, the subject must remain alive and unharmed in any way; the take down has to be simulated."

Adam looked at him in disbelief. "You're joking, right? Three weeks to anticipate each other's movements and plan a mission where we – simulate – killing a target? You know what you're asking for, Sir?"

The President chuckled. "Yeah, he knows, Dawson – the impossible. Your team is supposed to be capable of that. Every mission you get will have the same level of difficulty. Now, you can either handle it, or I find myself another team leader."

Adam looked around at his men. They all had the same expression; do it. "Alright, Bull, you're on. Who do you want us to – pretend – to kill?"

There was an eerie quiet as the two senior SEALs looked at each other. The silence was broken by one man. "Me," President Walker said in a low tone.

Bill Haley was taking a drink just as Walker said who the target was. As the frothing liquid flew out of his mouth, he coughed with such force that he dropped his beer on the ground.

"You okay, son?" Eric asked.

When he regained his composure, he looked at the target. "You're insane – Sir. You just happen to be the most secure human being on the face of the fucking planet. Hell, even if we do succeed, the Secret Service will be on our asses like fur on a rabbit."

Walker laughed at the remark. "That's the whole idea, moron." Then he turned to Adam who was looking down at the ground now, his eyes moving back and forth. "No traces, and no one gets hurt; the only question is, are you and the rest of your merry men in for the ultimate target?"

Adam's eyes were still moving as plans flashed before his eyes. He was so lost in thought that he almost didn't hear the Admiral's voice. "...or out?"

He looked up and scanned the faces of his men. They all had a frown at the impending doom that awaited them, all except one man, Construction Electrician First Class, Chris Brooks.

Chris smiled at the new Team Leader and mouthed the words, "trust me."

Adam directed his eyes to the President of the United States. "My team and I accept the challenge; consider yourself a dead man."

Waterside Festival Marketplace, Norfolk, Virginia.

The blue sedan slowed as it approached the parking garage across from Waterside Drive. The traffic wasn't bad for this time of day, and Kristine maneuvered the car toward the thin red and white arm blocking the entrance. Sliding her money into the slot, the arm rose at an annoyingly slow rate.

Laura scanned the area around them as her friend drove into the dark complex. When her eyes stopped on Kristine's face, she saw her friend look her way. "Stop worrying, dear. I was very careful not to be followed and I have a feeling we won't be bothered out here in public. No one is that stupid, no matter what creature you are," she replied with a laugh as she pulled into an empty parking spot.

The young, pregnant female began looking around again; the bright sun causing her to squint her eyes against the brilliance of the light. "Why are we parking on the roof when the crossway is on the third floor?"

Kristine put the keys in her purse and giggled at her passenger. "No place for anyone to hide up here. You can see trouble coming from any direction. Now stop fidgeting and enjoy some girl-time while the boys get their meeting out of the way."

**********

The yellow cab pulled up next to the sidewalk and the driver put the car in park. Draping his arm over the front seat, the bored driver turned to his passenger. "That'll be ten bucks Ma'am."

The old woman reached into the cloth bag resting on her lap and produced the required fare money. As she handed over the money, the driver glanced at her ragged and frail form with a worried look. "Do you need any help getting out?"

She gave him a bright smile and shook her head, her gray hair swaying around her wrinkled face. "No thank you, young man. I've been looking after myself for some time now," she replied as she grabbed her old wooden cane and opened the door.

The old women shut the door and looked up toward the top of the parking complex. The sun forced her to cast her eyes back down to the sidewalk. The driver watched for brief moment as the old woman hobbled toward the crosswalk of Waterside Drive, then pulled away, looking for his next fare.

**********

The two women walked arm in arm as they exited the crossway above the busy street. Kristine spotted a small stand with baby clothes on display and excitedly pulled her friend to the kiosk. Amidst many giggles, the two women picked through the display, holding up one outfit after another to show to each other.

Kristine picked one with neutral colors and handed the attendant some cash. While the young woman bagged the item, Kristine looked around the long corridor filled with small shops and tourists. Her eyes darted from one person to the next; her activity being interrupted by the attendant.

Laura worriedly watched her friend's busy eyes. "Maybe we should have invited one of the women from that council thing to come with us."

Kristine wrapped her arm around Laura's and headed off down the mall. "Nadia is not after us. I'm just being careful, sweetie. I guess being married to a SEAL is rubbing off on me."

The two continued on their way, stopping at different stands to check out the variety of items for sale. Laura laughed to herself as she watched some of the tourists picking through Virginia souvenir key chains and knick-knacks. She remembered that not too long ago she and Kevin had walked around while she collected the same things.

**********

An older couple walked slowly toward a photo backdrop of Norfolk. The husband looked around at the other shoppers, attempting to engage someone to take a photo of him and his wife. The other people stepped around him or shook their heads no as he held out his camera asking for help.

As he was about to give up and take a photo of his wife alone, he saw an old woman shambling along with her cane. Giving her his best smile, he moved next to her. "Excuse me, Ma'am. I'm sorry to bother you, but could you please take a picture of me and my wife? It's our first time in Norfolk, and I want a picture to share with my family back home in Iowa."

The old woman turned to face him. "Oh my, what a lovely couple. This is my first time here as well. How does this work?"

"It's simple, Ma'am, just look through that little window and push the button on top. Give me a second to stand next to my adorable wife," he replied as he moved to stand next to his smiling wife.

The old woman peered through the viewfinder and placed her boney finger on the button. "Okay, you two, love birds; on the count of three say angels. One, two, three...."

"Angels."

The wife moved quickly to the old woman and retrieved the camera. "Oh thank you so much. It seems tourists are considered second-class citizens by some of the locals."

"Don't worry, dear, there was a time in my life when I was looked down upon as well," she replied as she removed the dangling cane from her arm and steadied herself.

Looking at the object hanging from the elderly woman's neck, the younger lady smiled in admiration. "What an extremely beautiful feather! Do you mind if I ask what kind it is?"

"An angel feather, of course," she replied as she moved down the crowded corridor.

**********

Laura stopped in front of a kiosk displaying keepsakes of baby hand and footprints. She ran her fingers across one of them, feeling the exquisite smallness of the baby that had made them. Her eyes filled with moisture as a vision of a much larger print with claws entered her mind.

"...then you and Kevin could mount a set each year on the wall so the little one could see how he's grown over the years." Kristine's happy voice broke into her thoughts and she sniffed back the tears.

Kristine looked over at her hormonally charged friend. "Oh sweetie, what is it? If you don't like the idea, then we'll just pick out something else."

Laura reached up and wiped the moisture from her eyes. "It's not that, Kristine. I was just thinking of what to tell our guests when they see a few years of clay imprints on the wall, followed by another set with claw marks on them."

Kristine pulled her friend close to her. "We don't know that, Laura. Now you need to stop thinking that way or you're going to force me to lose my temper with you."

"Yes, Mother," Laura replied with a soft laugh.

"Say, are you hungry? How about some lunch? My treat!"

"Since I'm always hungry these days, you're on." The two best friends linked arms and headed toward one of many nearby eateries.

Given the time of day, the small restaurant wasn't too busy and the hostess greeted them at the 'Wait to be Seated' sign with a pleasant smile. "Good afternoon, welcome to Jack Quinn's; two for lunch?"

Kristine smiled as Laura looked around at the Irish pub and restaurant. "Yes, a booth if you have one available, please," Kristine said.

The hostess, dressed in black slacks and a crisp white shirt, led her new customers down an aisle and stepped out of the way as she indicated one of the semi-circle booths behind a glossy wooden partition.

The two women slid onto the cushioned seats and Kristine placed her bags, full of baby clothes, next to her. They smiled at the hostess as she placed the menus and silverware in front of each of them. They opened the large menus filled with photos of all sorts of different foods.

"Your server will be Julie today, but until she comes over, is there something I can get you from the bar?"

Kristine answered without looking up. "That would be great. I'll have an Irish Coffee."

Laura took her time as she looked over the drink list, then back up to the young woman. "I don't want to be a bother, but do you think the bartender could make me a virgin daiquiri?"

"Yes, Ma'am, that won't be a problem. Would you like strawberry, pineapple, or banana?"