In a seamless move, he slipped back under the water. Beckett kicked his way deeper, not stopping until his dive watch indicated he’d reached the same depth as before.
The others resumed their previous positions, as well, and for the next several minutes, the two teams continued along the invisible path leading them directly to Isak Rahal’s freedom.
With his well-trained lungs holding steady and his legs moving at a rhythmic pace, Beckett’s mind did what it always seemed to do…
It wandered back to thoughts of Evie.
His pulse spiked as memories of the past few days—and nights—began seeping their way through. Perfect curves. Supple breasts. Her perfect, naked body writhing beneath his as he slid in and out of her welcoming heat.
But while making love to her was hands-down the greatest experience of his entire life, it wasn’t the promise of more mind-blowing sex making his legs kick a bit harder. It was his innate need to reconnect with Evie’s sweet, sweet soul.
He’d never met anyone like her before, and as he swam against the current, Beckett innately knew he never would again. Which was perfectly fine with him, because as far as he was concerned, his search for the elusive happily ever after had come to an unexpected end.
Evie was it for him. She was The One. And though they hadn’t said the words, Beckett knew what he felt was real.
It was also new, however. And though he wasn’t ashamed of his feelings in the least, Evie was still dealing with the emotional fallout from her father’s earthshattering revelation. Not to mention the aftermath of being kidnapped and held hostage by terrorists who would have had no qualms about executing her and those girls.
The very last thing he wanted was to scare the sweet woman away, so Beckett decided to keep his true feelings to himself. For now. But the second he felt she was ready for more?—
A fist nudged against Beckett’s shoulder, and he turned his head in Digger’s direction. Using familiar hand gestures to communicate, the other man let him know their mile swim was coming to an end.
Since the team’s exfil plan included a short chopper ride from Rahal’s private island back to their jet—as opposed to swimming back the same way from which they’d come—Beckett and his teammates quickly began shedding the gear they no longer required.
Fins, lights, and masks became offerings to the sea as the ocean’s rippling tide carried the evidence of their presence away. He hated to do it, but wasting perfectly good equipment was an unfortunate part of the job.
Private or active duty, it didn’t matter. The fact was, sometimes the need to cover their tracks trumped being frugal, and no amount of guilt would ever change that.
A few additional strokes later, Beckett felt his feet touch sand. Water poured from his body as he stood upright, and he used the opportunity to stretch his spine and give his leg muscles a break.
“Well, that was fun.” His tactical dive boots made mirrored impressions in the soaking wet sand.
The SCUBA footwear slipped right inside his fins, offering enough protection to Beckett’s soles to make maneuvering through certain terrains possible.
“Was it, though?” Aleck stood near the other five SEALs as they efficiently began stripping themselves of the equipment they had no choice but to stash. “Maybe it’s just me but swimming a mile in the freezing cold ocean…in the middle of the night, no less…isn’t exactly my idea of fun.”
Beckett chuckled as the other team began shoving their own fins and dive lights into backpacks they’d worn for that exact purpose. A necessary step since the group of SEALs would be returning to the other island via water once the mission was complete.
When their stuff was secured, each man then slid his bag beneath a dense group of lush green bushes waving in the breeze a few yards away. Once the op was over and the hostage was safe and secure, Mustang’s men would return to this exact same spot to retrieve their gear. They’d then swim back to the other island, get the chopper, and return for Beckett, his team, and Rahal.
Sounds easy enough.
Beckett watched and waited while the SEALS finished concealing their gear beneath the thick foliage. Having done that a time or two himself, he was suddenly damn glad his only concerns now were the MP5 slung across his back, the pistol strapped to his right thigh, and the MK 3 MOD 0 Combat/Diving Knife secured to his left ankle.
Don’t forget the seventeen assholes and the hostage.
“You know, I actually didn’t mind the swim.” He continued the current conversation by sharing his unsolicited opinion once again. “It calms me.”
“That’s only because you’re like a fucking fish when it comes to the water,” Apollo challenged almost immediately.
Beckett couldn’t even argue the man’s point.
“I don’t know what Aleck was bitchin’ about.” Pid grinned as he came over to where they stood. “I mean, we’re SEALS, for crying out loud. You ask me?—”
“Good thing no one asked you,” Slate grumbled the interruption from a few feet away.
Agreeing with the prickly man, Apollo chimed back in with, “Sorry, Aleck, but I’m with Slate on this one. I love the water asmuch as the next guy, but I’d much rather take the jet than have to slosh around an op in these damn things.”
Apollo waggled a foot as water dripped from his own dive boot to emphasize his point.