Page 27 of Under Pressure

Sean slapped Knox over the head. “Stop gawking.”

They weren’t in their uniforms. So how did people know?

Gray scratched his blond head. “Veterans Day is next week?”

“But how do they knowus?” Knox asked.

They hauled their gear up to Sean’s building. The “Bob’s Underwater Salvage Company” sign’s paint fading away on the metal siding. The building was two stories tall, with few windows, and big enough to store their underwater salvage boat, their speedboat, jet skis, and a whole slew of equipment—it wasn’t pretty, but it was gorgeous to Sean. What wasn’t his was the Marine flag that hung instead of his Navy flag under the American flag on the flagpole he’d installed out front last year.

They stopped dead in their tracks as they stared at the offending flag.

“What the—” Gray started.

Knox ripped something off the front door. “Look at this.” It was the Diamond Cove Times. “Our picture’s in the paper.”

Sure enough, there was a picture of their SEAL unit—Liam, Mack, Sean, Gray, Aaron, Knox, and Wolfe—right on the front page of the paper.

“Local Underwater Salvage Company owned and operated by retired Marines?” Gray spat out the last word like it was vinegar. “What is this garbage?”

Sean grabbed the paper with his one free hand and scanned through it. He read out loud, “Be sure to thank these local heroes for their long-time service in the Marines.”

“We’re Navy,” Gray snarled. “Freaking SEALs! Marines my . . .” he continued to grumble.

Sean tipped the paper to the side to read the handwritten note scrawled in bright green marker, “You’re welcome. Love, Titan Green.”

Knox scratched his head. “Isn’t this the guy that owns Titan Marine Salvage?”

Sean nodded. “Yep.” Liam had accidentally started a prank war between Sean’s company and Titan’s when he’d called NASA to report finding a piece of a space shuttle and given Titan’s company the credit. While the find would’ve earned them a lot of good publicity, it also would’ve wrapped them up in red tape for weeks if not longer. So Liam had called NASA claiming that Titan had found it. It looked like Titan and his crew decided to strike back.

Fine by Sean. He grinned. He had the perfect idea for revenge in mind in the form of loose nuts, bolts, and screws scattered across Titan’s speed boat deck. Ha!

Sean shoved the paper at Knox and unlocked the door to his building. Knox stared at the groups’ photo, and Gray furiously pulled down the Marine flag.

“Who could ever mistake us for Marines?” Gray spat.

“I’m getting this picture framed.” Knox grinned. “Not every day we get a picture in the paper.”

“And making me a copy,” Sean added. He’d have it framed for the wall in his office—he’d put it right next to the photo of him and his family. That’s how he saw his unit anyway.

“Yes, sir,” Knox said without taking his eyes off the image.

The group headed inside, and Knox and Gray carefully folded the Marine flag, Gray scowling and grumbling under his breath about how he was obviously a SEAL the entire time.

Sean loved this building. From the outside, it looked rusted and worn, but the inside was clean, organized, and beautiful from the shellacked cement floors to the two-story main room with steel beams overhead to his little office wrapped in metal siding. He even had a loft apartment above his office he sometimes used when he was too tired to drive home, and a couple secret passages that had come in handy recently whenthat attack happened on Ryker a few months ago. He’d never been so proud to own anything, aside from his salvage boat, in his life.

His phone rang, and he pulled it out of his swim shorts. It was a WhatsApp video call from his dad and brothers. “Hello?”

“There you are, we’ve been calling you for the last half hour.” His dad came into view—he had a sort of Antonio Banderas vibe about him, only Italian-American and with a slightly longer face and broader cheekbones. He even kept his hair a little longer and shaggy like how Banderas had worn it in Zorro.

Axel wore his hair the same—only Sean and Johnny kept their hair “Grandpa Don approved”—not so long it couldn’t be combed and neatly styled. Still, Sean and his brothers looked more or less like younger versions of their dad, who looked like a younger version of Grandpa. The family resemblance wasstrong. Sean looked the most different of them all because instead of brown eyes, he had hazel eyes the color of honey, and he also had dimples which he’d inherited from their mother. But if they were ever in a line-up, he didn’t think those characteristics would save him from being fingered for a crime his brothers had committed.

“We were on the ocean,” Sean said.

“Likely story,” Johnny said. “Where’s your shirt? Lose it overboard?”

“Where’s your cuff links?” Sean returned, why was everyone always on him about not wearing a shirt? This was a beach town. He owned an underwater salvage company.

Johnny glanced down at his Hugo Boss and straightened his red pocket square. He’d gotten into the habit of wearing expensive suits the last couple of years. The suits were classy, but Sean couldn’t help but think they made Johnny look like a mob boss, especially combined with slicked-back hair and his tattoos—also new additions in the last two years.

---