Black Ops Brotherhood: Tightrope Part 38

"We need to talk, guys," Captain O'Malley said.

Anna and Mrs. Campbell joined them. Mrs. Campbell looked at her husband who shot her a serious but meaningful look.

"Okay, where?" JJ asked, standing.

"I'm sorry, Rio. Dan, I need you," Captain O'Malley said as Gavin joined them.

"Jack!" Anna said.

"No problem, skipper," Danny said. He looked at Rio and smiled. Everyone walked away to give them a moment alone. He took her hands and smiled wistfully. "Sorry, babe."

This was her life now and getting upset or hurt would not do their relationship any good. She'd just married a SEAL and whenever his call to duty came, he'd leave her to go off and fight the bad guys. She had to accept this, deal with it, and hope for the best.

"It'll be fine. Whatever it is, be careful." She leaned over and kissed him.

Taking a deep breath and sending up a silent prayer for his safety, she watched her husband and brother walk out of the hall. The loved ones who'd been left behind took seats around Rio. A calm came over her as she watched the doorway where Danny had disappeared. He was doing what he loved. In truth, she understood better than some of the people who now tried to comfort her. Justin looked the most emotional, so she took his hand and tried to comfort him.

"It'll be fine. Whatever it is, they have to prepare, and that'll take a little time to do. They'll be back soon."

"I worry because I know him. He takes chances he shouldn't."

Mrs. Campbell put her arm around the young man and said, "They all do."

The big screen in the conference room showed the riots that had broken out in Tunisia over a fruit and vegetable stand that had been confiscated for not having the proper government licenses. The vendor had set himself on fire in protest, and riots had ensued as a result. This was unusual because President Zine El Abidine Ben Ali who'd ruled Tunisia since 1987 severely repressed any sort of political protest, and Tunisia had been considered one of the most stable and prosperous countries in North Africa.

The group had been watching closely since the Washington had set sail heading toward the Mediterranean on deployment because the mission had been changed once they were underway. Advisors to the President of the United States speculated that, due to tensions with Iran, deployment in the Persian Gulf would escalate those tensions, and now, Russia was putting pressure on the United States to back off of the testing.

"Got anything on the chatter going on in the area? Has anyone gotten back to you with the status?" Dixie asked Dan.

"No one's gotten back to me yet, admiral. But, it's going crazy; lots of tweets from inside Tunisia by a group called the Muslim Brotherhood," Dan said.

"When in the h.e.l.l did we start getting our intel from tweets?" JJ asked as he and Dixie exchanged what-the-f.u.c.k glances.

"It's real time, master chief, people on the ground talking about what's going on and what they're seeing," Shaq said, looking over Facebook. "Check this out." He clicked on the overhead projector. "Look at these pictures on their Facebook page."

"I don't give a s.h.i.t where you get it, as long as we can a.s.sess the threat in that area," Dixie said.

The SEALs watched the opposite wall and saw the pictures from people in the streets showing the state police attacking people with tear gas to disperse the crowds that were trying to set fire to a police vehicle.

"A couple of these were taken from on top of a building. See here," Shaq said, circling one of the rooftops that was lower than the vantage point from the pictures. "That's a lot of comm equipment. It's got to be the state-run press offices."

"Or some kind of tactical comm. Zoom in a little bit to the right. Are those weapons?" Dan asked.

Dixie peered closer. "I'll be d.a.m.ned. You're right, that's a machine gun nest. Keep monitoring that page, and let me know if they post anything else interesting."

"Bada.s.s, log me in to your laptop here," Friday said. After a few minutes, he said, "They got videos of all this s.h.i.t on YouTube. Give me that connection to the projector, Shaq. This is something you won't see on the six o'clock news."

"Dan, has SOCCOM or Langley responded yet? What the h.e.l.l's taking so long?" Dixie asked.

"What the f.u.c.k do we need SOCCOM or Langley for? We've all got f.u.c.king iPhones!" JJ said, throwing up his hands.

"No, sir, no answer yet, but the s.h.i.t's about to hit the fan. The police just shot a protester, and the tweets are saying that the rioters are heading toward the police station to take it down," Dan said.

"They just posted the pictures on Facebook," Shaq said.

"I just got off the phone with African Command. They said they briefed the Secretary of Defense a few days ago because chatter inside Tunisia was picking up," Lieutenant Colonel Thompson said.

"And?" Dixie asked.

"No one ever got back to them, admiral."

Dixie closed his eyes in disgust. It never failed. Whenever there was a crisis, Washington DC could be the most frustrating place on the planet. While they were a.s.sessing the political ramifications, he'd been left helpless to make a decision. He hated the idea that he had a mission commander going into a hot spot without any kind of contingency plan. If anything went wrong with that trip, Dixie and his men would be responsible. It wasn't the politics of his appointment to the JCS; it was the idea that over six thousand men and women on a ship were already a lightning rod for trouble. They were the ones at risk, and they'd be the first casualties.

"Rock! What the h.e.l.l's going on with the Pentagon? What am I supposed to tell my mission commander aboard the Washington?"

"I'm working on it!" Rock yelled back.

"The general at AFRICOM also said there's a s.h.i.t ton of chatter coming out of Algeria b.i.t.c.hing about the government's state of emergency. There's also an increase in chatter from inside Jordan about the elections not being fair. A group called ISIL is doing all the talking in Jordan."

"Just what I need, a hot North Africa with an untested weapons system in the Med," Dixie said, turning away.

"ISIL? I've heard that before somewhere," Friday said.

"It stands for the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant; it's a self-proclaimed Islamic state. Its al-Qaeda joined with all the ragtag groups in Iraq," Gavin said.

Rock finally walked into the room. "Pentagon said to stay on course; they'll monitor the situation, and get back to us."

"Are you f.u.c.king with me?" Dixie asked.

"Nope, that's what I was told," Rock said.

"Do they have iPhones? Did they see the tweets and Facebook posts?" JJ asked.

Dixie looked at JJ as if he'd just lost his mind, and the entire room including the admiral broke down laughing.

"Rock, tell Cobra stand by until the Pentagon can get their thumbs out of their a.s.ses. Reese, tell AFRICOM to update us every twelve hours and sooner if there's a significant increase in chatter. Jensen, spool that listening station back up. Let's see if anything comes out of our buddy in Mexico. Dan, Shaq, lets figure out what we need to do to keep our eye on this situation, then call the group back home to see if we can get something going. Friday, get my phone hooked up with Twitter and Facebook so I can monitor this situation," JJ said, tossing Friday his iPhone.

Dixie looked at his best friend and the man who'd kept him sane all these years. "I'll deal with the Pentagon in the morning, once they've had a chance to wrap their hands around this. I get the feeling they got caught with their pants down. Reese, JJ, Rock, let's see when we can get briefings set up with the AFRICOM and the CENTCOM commanders. We need a plan."

Chapter 32.

118 Indigo Brush Cibolo, Texas February 10, 2011/0045 Zulu Dan closed his eyes as he parked his truck in the driveway. He was getting another headache. His days since the beginning of the year seemed to run together. He looked at his phone and saw a message from JJ about a meeting in the morning with AFRICOM and CENTCOM to review intel. Now, eleven countries in the Middle East and North Africa were all in the middle of some sort of civil war. Egypt had now become the big problem because of its proximity to where the USS George Washington would be conducting operations and testing in less than thirty days. It was pretty certain that President Mubarak of Egypt wouldn't be in power much longer because the protests hadn't stopped in two weeks, and now, he'd taken action against some of the more popular protesters inflaming their supporters.

When he walked inside, the smell of what Rio had left in the crockpot to cook all day surrounded him. He set his backpack in one of the elevated seats that lined the counter and remembered she wouldn't be home until later because today was one of the few days she had to go to the campus. He shrugged his shoulders to ease the tension that had settled on them and twisted his head to crack the bones in his neck. Maybe eating something would take away his headache. Then again, he could go for a run to see if maybe he could trigger the release of the endorphins he needed right now. While he changed out of his uniform, he switched on the weather and saw that it would be a cold night, so he decided to go for his run. Hopefully, by the time he was done, Rio would be home, and they could have dinner together.

He pushed hard as he ran and felt his shoulders ease as the miles slipped by, but it was nothing like he needed. He wondered how to get his wife back to where he wanted her to be. Since his capture and recovery she'd avoided the subject of their play. At first, he chalked it up to the lack of time with the wedding, moving to San Antonio, and the crazy hours they were both working in the wake of this new crisis. Rio was also taking cla.s.ses online, and when she wasn't studying or working, she was training dogs.

After they'd moved, for a while they were both so exhausted they simply pa.s.sed out holding each other. The s.e.x between them was great, but there was something missing, and he hadn't been able to put his finger on it until a few days ago. When he'd first tried to mention it, she changed the subject, and he let it go.

When she got home, they ate, and he watched a little TV before they got ready for bed. He was sitting on the edge of the bed when she came out of the bathroom after her shower. The smell of candy apple filled his senses when she walked up to him and slid in between his knees. Her fingers running through his hair made his c.o.c.k stiffen, and his eyes closed on visions of being on his knees in front of her. Leaning forward he buried his face in the middle of her chest and groaned. He needed a serious play session with his Mistress, and it made him miserable that she'd gone away.

"I need something from you," she said.

"What do you need, babe?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her.

"Can you brush up on your calculus? I have a test next week, and I'm having a little problem with implicit differentials. I need my tutor, again."

There was something he needed from her, and maybe now would be the time to force her hand and discuss why she'd given up on being his Mistress.

"Do you have a book, or do I have to look it up?" he asked.

"It's on my tablet, but I can print some stuff out."

"I'll help you." He let his hands roam lower to her a.s.s and squeezed. "But it'll cost you."

"Oh? How much?" she asked, leaning in for a kiss.

"I need a night with my Mistress," he replied. The change in her body language and expression didn't escape him. She tensed and pulled away, signaling he hadn't been wrong. She'd been avoiding this subject.

"We haven't played in a long time. I miss it."

Pulling farther away, she flashed him a nervous smile and ran her hands over his shoulders. She was upset and looked scared. They really did need to talk, and he had to figure out what had changed her.

"We'll talk about it later. You still need some time to recover," she said, pulling away.

There was no way he'd let her out of this conversation, so he tightened his knees and his embrace around her.

"Babe, I was cleared to return to active duty as a SEAL five weeks ago. If I can go back into combat, my Mistress can pay me a visit. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said, pulling away.

"Why won't you do this?" he asked, taking her hands.

"I can't," she whispered, shaking her head.

Kissing her hands, he almost gave her an out, but he had to know why she'd taken this vital part of their relationship away from him. They had to address it and the pain he sensed she was attempting to hide. He didn't understand why it was so hard for her to discuss this with him because the way he remembered it, she loved it almost as much as he did.

"Talk to me, babe."

"I can't hurt you. Those bruises didn't heal for over a month, and the scars on your shoulder are still swollen. I know what they did to you because I saw the pictures that were sent to Felix when they were trying to find out who you were. I can't do it anymore. I can't hurt you."

Her eyes shone with unshed tears. He had no idea that the cartel had sent a picture and was mortified that she'd seen it. At times he'd forgotten what she did and how much she knew because whenever they were together she was someone he'd known all of his life, not a budding FBI agent or a former border patrol supervisor who was intimately familiar with society's criminal element.

"There's a difference, babe, and you're not hurting me. I can't explain why, but it helps me," he said, pleading with her.

"Danny, please don't ask me to do this," she said, burying her face in his shoulder.

The plea broke his heart. He pulled her close and held her knowing that once she made up her mind about something it was usually set. She relieved him from making most of their decisions, but he needed the physical closeness they shared after intense play. After one of their sessions his work and responsibilities faded into the background, and now he knew why he'd been so stressed out; he hadn't had a release that freed him so completely. Looking back, she seemed so much more edgy and tense than before his ordeal. He realized that she needed the release, too. After a play session, she'd giggle a lot more, and his mischief didn't seem to bother her the way it did now. This was putting an unconscious strain on their marriage. He kissed her cheek and rubbed her back.

"Maybe we can get away. Our two-month anniversary is next Friday, and Monday's a holiday. Let's go somewhere."

"Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know, babe. But promise me we'll at least talk about this some more."

Pulling away, she looked at him. He knew that look; they'd talk, but it wouldn't go anywhere because her mind was made up.

"Promise me," he said.

"I promise."

"Did you figure out where we're going? When are we leaving?" Danny asked.

"I thought you were taking care of that," Rio said.

"No, why would I?"

"I had a big test tonight; you know that. You helped me study for it. I also had to get a presentation ready for work for the new dog facility. You're the one that wanted to get away. Why didn't you make plans?" she asked.

Anger and frustration filled every ounce of her being right now. For the last week he'd been pulling this c.r.a.p. First, he'd forgotten to pay the bills because he'd gone out after work with his buddies and played video games until two in morning. Then, he hadn't picked up the dry cleaning and heartworm medication for the dogs like he promised he would. Why in the h.e.l.l did she have to take care of everything? He was the one that wanted to get away, and he expected her to do all the work.

"Why didn't you take care of it?" she asked again.

"I was busy, too..."

"Busy doing what? All you do when you get home is play on your Xbox or watch TV. What the h.e.l.l were you doing?" Her aggravation was evolving into outright anger now.

"What the h.e.l.l's you're problem? Why are you so b.i.t.c.hy?"

G.o.d, she wanted to throttle his a.s.s this minute, but the last thing she needed to do right now was argue. She had a paper due in a week that she needed to get done so she'd have time to get it looked over before she turned it in for a grade.

"Forget it," she declared. "I don't want to go anywhere anyway."

"Fine," he said in a snit and got up and left the room.

Things had been tense over the last week, and all of a sudden they seemed to be fighting about everything. Being as busy as she was, she needed to be able to focus, but he kept f.u.c.king with her. She was p.i.s.sed as she pulled out one of the chairs that lined the breakfast counter that separated the kitchen from the family room. Every time she wanted to sit down she had to move something that belonged to him. She gritted her teeth because his backpack was in the chair, and his s.h.i.t seemed to be scattered all over the house. She heard a vibration that turned out to be his d.a.m.n phone, which was lying on the counter instead of on his nightstand where it belonged. It lit up with a message on the screen. She normally didn't look at his phone, but the name that flashed on the screen caught her attention. She picked up the phone to make sure she'd seen it correctly.