“Sam and the other guys are going to be okay,” Melissa suddenly said, interrupting Poppy’s downward mental spiral. “They’re well-trained and experienced. They’re going to get through the mission and cover each other’s backs, then come home to us safely. They’re SEALs. That’s what they do.”
Poppy nodded, praying that was true. “It must be tough having to worry about your son being a SEAL after his dad retired from the Navy.”
“It is.” Melissa grimaced. “I really thought I was done with all this worry and stress when I finally convinced Kurt to retire, but now I have to do it all over again with Sam.” She gave Poppy a small smile. “Except this time, it looks like I get to share my worries with you. And you get to share yours with me.”
Logically, Poppy knew worry didn’t work that way, but right then, sitting at this table with three other women who were going through the same thing she was, she decided that maybe she was wrong. Having someone to share the burden did help.
As they ate, they talked about being left behind while the guys went out on missions. It should have made Poppy more afraid for Sam, but instead, she found their support comforting at the same time.
“Has anyone thought about how awkward this mission is going to be if Dalton and Sam realize they’ve both slept with Poppy?” Hayley asked, a concerned expression on her face. “You know, guys being guys and all?”
Poppy cringed inwardly at the thought of Sam finding out about her and Dalton that way. The thought of how they’d behave toward each other during the mission hadn’t entered her mind at all—until now. “You don’t think they’d get into a fight, do you? They’re friends.”
Hayley and Kyla didn’t say anything. Melissa, on the other hand, let out a snort of amusement. Or maybe derision. It was difficult to tell which.
“They might be friends, but they’re also men who happen to possess a higher-than-normal amount of testosterone,” Melissa said. “Which means it’s almost a certainty they’ll get into a fight. It’s just a matter of whether it will be limited to words, or if fists will be involved.”
Crap.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Madura Island, located off the northeast coast of Java, was drastically larger than the postage stamp sized bit of sand that Kepulauan Nenusa had been, both in terms of real estate and population. Even so, Sam would never have guessed they were on an island of over three million people, not given the total silence enveloping this particular stretch of forest running along the northern edge of the place.
The return trip to Indonesia had been as rushed and exhausting as the first time. Sam had tried to sleep throughout most of the fiftee- hour flight to Jakarta on the unmarked military aircraft they’d taken, but the ride had been rough and the roar from the engines loud enough to require hearing protection. There had been a mission briefing on the plane followed by a short trip via helicopter out to a frigate cruising the Java Sea where they’d gotten another briefing, and then a midnight boat ride to a deserted stretch of beach east of Sokabana.
In theory, the Alatas brothers ran some kind of training camp near here. The theory also held that the brothers were either here now or would show up sometime soon to finalize plans for the procurement of the nuclear weapon from Colonel Kam and the North Korean contingent. The idea was that Sam and the other SEALs would sneak into the camp and hear something that would tell them where the North Koreans would be and when they would be there.
Lucero and the CIA hadn’t been very forthcoming about where they were getting their intel on the Alatas brothers, and based on the number of times the words in theory, supposedly, and should be had been used during the briefings, Sam wasn’t too sure what he and his Teammates were going to run into out here in these woods. He only hoped this whole trip wasn’t a waste. One that had possibly messed up his relationship with Poppy.
Movement ahead of him caught his attention and Sam looked up to see Dalton holding up a hand with a closed fist—standard military signal for all stop. He immediately dropped to one knee, swinging his NVGs to the right to scan his assigned sector, but there wasn’t anything there. Wes, Lane, Holden, Chasen, Nash, and Noah were all out there somewhere. They were simply too good to be seen.
A few moments later, he heard Chasen on the radio, saying they’d reached the edges of the brothers’ compound.
“Everyone hold tight while Nash and I scout out the perimeter to see what we’ve got,” Chasen added.
The seconds turned into minutes, and with nothing to do but stare into the darkness at nothing, Sam found himself thinking about Poppy. No surprise there. He tended to think about her nearly every free moment of the day and night. And as he’d been doing a lot since the cookout gone wrong, he couldn’t help but replay every moment of what happened at his parents’ house.
He’d expected for her to freak out when he told her he was a SEAL. Instead, she’d looked around the backyard like she’d seen a ghost. All he could think was that she’d been so devastated to learn he’d lied to her about being a SEAL that she’d completely shut down.
That would certainly explain why she’d barely had a reaction when cell phones had started ringing. Sure, she’d been upset and asked the expected questions of who, where, and when, but he could tell from the distracted look on her face that she’d spoken those words purely on instinct. He doubted if she would have comprehended his answers even if he’d been able to give her any. It hurt like hell to think he’d hurt her so badly that her logical mind had stopped processing, but he couldn’t come up with any other explanation.
When he heard the murmur of soft conversation, he realized Lane and Wes must have gotten bored waiting for Chasen to give them an update because both of them had moved from their positions in the Team’s scattered formation close enough to talk to Dalton.
Sam took another look around to make sure they were alone, then moved forward to join his Teammates. They were a good quarter mile from the edge of the Alatas compound, so there was no reason to think they’d have security patrols out this far. Not without a known threat.
He was still fifteen feet away when he heard Dalton murmur something to Lane and Wes. He didn’t catch all of it, but he was pretty sure the last part was, should I tell Sam about Poppy?
“Tell me what?” he asked softly, making all three of his buddies stand up and snap around with weapons raised.
Sam had to stop himself from instinctively lifting his own.
“What the hell are you doing sneaking up on people?” Wes hissed, looking around like he thought someone might be eavesdropping on the conversation. “You could have gotten yourself shot.”
“I wasn’t sneaking around,” Sam said, moving closer and looking at Dalton. “What could you possibly have to tell me about Poppy?”
Everyone in the platoon knew that Dalton used to be a player. Before he’d reunited with Kimber, Dalton had hooked up with half the world’s female population. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but he dated a lot of women.
Dalton stared at him through his NVGs, then looked away, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. “Um…nothing. I was just saying how nice it was to finally meet Poppy.”