Page 2 of A SEAL's Protection
I clear my chosen spot of debris and slide my Bergen off my back. I slip on my night-vision goggles and retrieve my sensor pouch.
Taking my time so as not to make a noise, I backtrack off my ridge to where it meets the hiking path, then follow it to the spot where Allegra went off the trail. Her campfire glows in the darkness, and I shake my head again at her lack of awareness. Her campfire should be hidden from the main trail.
I have no idea why her father allowed her to go off into the wilderness on her own, to let her go and then to have her followed. That’s some rich-person shit right there. I read the file on Allegra Simpson, and she comes from a world that’s different from mine.
Twenty-four years old. Has a degree in biochemistry. Was rejected from the PhD program.
I run the intel through my head as I scan the ground near the trail. She took the rejection hard, but she’s got the resources to carry out her research on her own without a university’s backing.
She bought a bunch of supplies and set out yesterday on the three-week Mountain Pass Trail.
She rejected security, so her father brought me in on a stealth mission. Follow his daughter on the three-week trail. Make sure nothing happens to her. That’s the brief.
He has no reason to suspect she’s in danger. He’s more concerned about other hikers and wild animals than a coordinated attack.
It should be an easy gig. I get to hike one of the most beautiful trails in the world, and all I have to do is make sure Allegra doesn’t get mauled by a bear in the night.
Markings on the ground catch my eye, and I crouch for a better look. A boot print in a patch of soft ground just off the main path. Large and heavy. A fellow hiker perhaps who stepped off the main trail.
I scan the ground for more prints, but the trail is dry. Crouched in the undergrowth, I stay still for a long while, straining for any unusual sounds. After half an hour, I’m satisfied we’re alone. The hiker who left the print is long gone.
There’s no immediate danger to Allegra, but I’m not taking any chances.
I crouch in the undergrowth and unzip the soft pouch and pull out two small cylindrical devices, no bigger than a ballpoint pen.
I plant one in the dirt at the base of a pine and the other on the far side of the clearing. I check my smartwatch, and a green dot appears on the screen, telling me the system is live.
If anyone or anything approaches from the trail, my sensor will pick them up and my watch will vibrate.
I plant another set across the deer path and the final set behind her tent across the rocks. It’s an unlikely approach, but I’m trained to look for the unlikely. I’d rather have her fully covered than not.
With the perimeter secure, I make my way back to my observation position. Allegra sits by the campfire typing on her laptop, unaware that I’ve been creeping around her campsite.
From my pack, I pull out a military-grade poncho survival shelter and set it up between two baby pines. The camouflaged A-frame sits low to the ground and blends in with the foliage, and I carefully place branches over the top to further hide it from view. There’s just enough room in the shelter for my sleeping bag and pack.
With my shelter in place, I pull out my flask and food bag. I scarf down a protein bar and some jerky. The coffee in my flask is cold, but I’m too exposed to risk a fire. I sip the cold coffee and keep my eyes on the camp below.
Allegra sits in the glow of the fire. Her laptop is now in its case beside her, and her hands wrap around a steaming mug as she stares into the fire.
A gust of wind makes me shiver, and I experience a pang of longing for a warm fire and a steamy mug. I shake the longing off as easily as pulling out a splinter. SEAL training taught me grit. How to go without when on a mission.
I remember that now and brace myself against the cold that settles over the mountain as it turns to deep night.
At twenty-one hundred hours, Allegra packs up her camp and disappears into her tent. Her headlamp glows through the canvas for another twenty minutes before going dark. I check my watch, and three green dots tell me the sensors are still live.
Nighttime settles over the mountains, and I listen for the sounds of the night, cataloguing each sound as I get used to my surroundings. Crickets chirping, the gentle burble of the stream, the occasional crack of a branch in the wind.
As night descends, my thoughts turn to Allegra. I wonder if she’s comfortable in her tent or if she’ll pack it all up after one night and scurry home to the comforts of her daddy’s mansion.
The cool night brings back memories of nights crouched in the desert, stiff from cold as we waited for our quarry. Then the kick of adrenaline pumping through my veins as we crept through sleeping villages to take insurgents by surprise.
It’s a far cry from babysitting some rich girl living out her dreams, but it’s good to be out here.
I’m not ready to trade in adventure for comfort just yet. If I wanted that, I’d go back to New Zealand.
I palm my phone and read the text that came in from my sister earlier today when I still had signal.
Best crop we’ve had in years. Could do with some help bro.
