Page 71 of Luck Be Mine
Finished loading, the bus turned right at the corner.
“Later. Give my regards to your husband when you see him.” He trotted down the driveway and disappeared past the hedge.
A twinge of missing the frogman slipped around her defenses. Frank never asked where he was, and she appreciated the restraint. Explanations about operational security had gotten old.
She glanced at her watch and hurried down the steps to her car. She had to go, too.
§§§§§§§§§§
A Week Later
◊ A Pause Between Missions - Maybe ◊
Back in country after a long mission, Hunt glared at the paperwork on his desk. How could two men with minor injuries on a simple in-and-out mission generate this many questions about team performance? All of it landed with him for command staff review. The whole mess begged to be handed over to Senior Chief Hernandez for some head knocking.
Three years in this role, and he learned to carry the mantel, but it never got lighter. Loyalty to the ranks, commitment to the mission, and the brotherhood at his back kept him steady. But the bottom-line truth was unchanged. He could carry the job. Being away from the woman who was his safe harbor was harder.
A quick tap on his door broke the morass of his thoughts. “Come.”
His admin popped her head in. Short and slender with shoulder-length dark hair pulled back, the yeoman kept a sternface. “Mister Dugan here to see you, sir. He’s not on your schedule.”
Hunt kept his smirk to himself. “Send him in.”
She frowned at him, not a big fan of people who jumped his schedule. “Yes, sir.”
“It’s all right, Marnie. He called me to check if it was okay. I said yes.”
“You should tell me these things, sir.” The thirty-something woman was efficient, squared away, and loyal to a fault. Ellsworth had Hunt figured out, and he valued her commitment. She kept his world running and made sure Cait knew when he needed rescuing from it.
“I’ll work on it.” He was horrible at admin routines, and she knew it and protected him from the brunt of the stickier stuff. One part of his soul cared about doing a good job, and the other wished he was out in the field again. His body would not care for the action and neither would his wife, but he’d heard other older SEALS say the same thing, so he figured he was in good company.
Doogie tapped on the door.
He raised a brow. “Since when did you need permission?”
The man didn’t smile. He stepped in and shut the door. “I never assume.”
Hunt came around his desk and pulled the chairs closer together. “Something’s up?”
Doogie sank into the seat without his usual energy. “I try to stay in step with appearances. You are my commander.”
“I’ve been your commander for a long time, and your LT before. What’s going on?”
Doogie drew a big sigh. “Mama is sick.”
Concern shot through him. The woman had folded a young Hunt into her family and, when Cait had been hurtand struggling, she’d been their shoulder, their strength. “With what?”
“Not sure. A nasty virus has knocked her flat. They’ve tested her for everything. It’s all negative. But she’s been sick for weeks with significant difficulty breathing. Kensi finally called me.”
Hunt frowned. “Serious then.”
“Yeah, Ken’s been handling the salon for over a month. I need to go to New Orleans.”
He grabbed his iPad. “Yes, you do.”
Doogie’s face twisted. “Sorry to do this, but I may need to borrow Cait. I might need all the backup I can get. I’m considering getting out.” Consternation filled his face.
Hunt collapsed back into his chair. “You’ll have to talk to Cait about her schedule. Get out? You, too?”
