1. Alec

Chapter 1

Alec

S omewhere in the

South Arabian Sea

Five Years Ago

Alec McKennon crouched low in the inflatable craft as it sliced through the pitch-black waters off the coast of Somalia. The moon was a mere sliver in the sky, offering little light by which to navigate. The only sounds were the hum of the boat's engine, muffled beneath layers of thick black rubber, and the rhythmic crash of waves against the hull. Each wave sent a spray of saltwater into the air, soaking Alec's tactical gear and leaving a bitter taste on his lips. But he barely noticed; his mind was focused, his senses heightened by the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

He glanced at the men around him, members of the SEAL Team under his command, each one a seasoned warrior, their faces obscured by camouflage paint and night-vision goggles. They moved with the quiet efficiency of professionals, checking weapons, securing gear, and preparing for the imminent assault. Alec's heart pounded in his chest, but outwardly, he was the picture of calm. Years of training had drilled into him the importance of maintaining composure no matter the situation.

Ahead, the outline of the unflagged ship came into view, a dark silhouette against the even darker horizon. The ship was small, barely more than a blip on the radar, but it was carrying a deadly cargo: Iranian-made weapons bound for Yemen, destined for the rebels. Alec knew the stakes. The rebels had been wreaking havoc in the region, their missile and drone attacks becoming increasingly brazen. If these weapons made it to their destination, the consequences could be catastrophic.

The mission had come together quickly. Intelligence had pinpointed the ship's location, and the SEALs were launched from one of the US Navy's mobile sea bases that had become a critical asset in the Navy's efforts to try and restrict arms shipments in the region. Backed by drones and helicopters, the SEALs were tasked with boarding the rebel vessel, neutralizing any threats, and seizing the illicit cargo.

As the inflatable craft drew closer to the rebel ship, Alec signaled to his team. The men rose to their feet, their movements synchronized and fluid. The boat slowed, and Alec could hear the faint creaking of the rebel ship's wooden hull as it rocked in the waves. With practiced ease, the SEALs tossed grappling hooks over the side, the metal claws biting into the wood with a satisfying thunk. Alec was the first to climb, his gloved hands gripping the rope tightly as he ascended. His boots found purchase on the slick wood, and in seconds, he was over the rail and on the deck.

The rest of the team followed in quick succession, fanning out silently, weapons at the ready. The ship was eerily quiet save for the gentle lapping of the sea against its sides. Alec moved forward, his M4 carbine sweeping the shadows, searching for any sign of the crew. His earpiece crackled to life as he spoke into the comm system.

"Alpha team, with me; we're moving to the bridge. Bravo team, secure the cargo hold. We're on the clock."

The way they had planned it, Alpha team was tasked with securing the bridge and neutralizing the crew. Alec moved quickly, his steps light and measured. The ship was small, and it didn't take long to reach the narrow staircase leading to the bridge. He could hear the faint murmur of voices from above, the low tones indicating that the crew was unaware of the SEALs' presence.

He signaled to the man behind him, and they began to ascend the stairs, weapons trained on the door at the top. Alec's heart thudded in his chest, each beat echoing in his ears. He was acutely aware of the weight of his rifle, the tension in his muscles, the steadying breath he took before reaching the door.

In one fluid motion, Alec kicked the door open and swept into the room. The crew inside barely had time to react. Alec's M4 barked twice, the suppressed shots barely more than a whisper in the night. Two men went down before they could even reach for their weapons. The third froze, his hands in the air, his eyes wide with fear. Alec's team moved in, securing the room and cuffing the survivor.

"Bridge secure," Alec reported into his mic, his voice steady despite the adrenaline surging through him.

"Copy that," came the reply.

"Bravo team, what's your status?" asked Alec.

There was a brief pause before the voice of Bravo team's leader crackled over the comms. "We've secured the cargo hold. Confirmed Iranian-made weapons. Looks like cruise and ballistic missile components, along with air defense parts."

Alec allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction. The mission was going smoothly, but they weren't out of the woods yet. They needed to get the crew under control, secure the ship, and rendezvous with the mobile sea base without drawing attention from any hostile forces in the area.

He turned to the crewman who had surrendered. The man was shaking, his eyes darting around the room as if looking for a way out. Alec crouched down in front of him, keeping his voice low and calm.

"Who's in charge here?"

The man hesitated, his gaze flicking to the bodies of his comrades before settling back on Alec. "The captain," he said in broken English. "He's…he's in his quarters."

Alec nodded. "Take me to him."

The crewman didn't argue. He led Alec and two other SEALs down the narrow passageways to a small cabin near the aft of the ship. Alec motioned for the others to take positions on either side of the door before kicking it open.

Inside, a middle-aged man with graying hair scrambled to his feet, his hand reaching for a pistol on the table beside him. Alec was faster. He crossed the room in two quick strides, slamming the man against the wall, the barrel of his rifle pressed to the man's chest.

"Don't," Alec warned, his voice cold.

The man froze, his hand hovering above the pistol before slowly raising it in surrender. Alec shoved him against the wall, pulling the pistol from its holster and tossing it to one of the other SEALs. The captain looked at Alec with a mixture of anger and fear, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

"Are there any other crew members?" Alec demanded.

The captain shook his head, but Alec could see the lie in his eyes. He tightened his grip on the man's collar, bringing his face closer. "Don't lie to me."

The captain swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Three…three more in the engine room."

Alec nodded, satisfied. He keyed his mic. "Bravo team, we've got three more in the engine room. I'll take two men with me to get them. Secure the weapons."

"Roger that," was the reply.

"Okay team; let's wrap this up." Alec pushed the captain into a chair, securing his hands with zip ties before turning to his team. "Let's clear the engine room and get the hell out of here."

The team moved quickly, their movements swift and precise as they descended into the bowels of the ship. The engine room was hot and noisy, the thrum of the machinery filling the space with a constant vibration. Alec's team spread out, weapons ready as they approached the room's entrance.

Inside, three men were hunched over the controls, their backs to the door. They didn't hear the SEALs approach until it was too late. Alec and his men burst in, weapons trained on the crew members. The men froze, their hands going up in surrender as they turned to face the intruders.

"Down on the ground, now!" Alec ordered.

The men complied, dropping to their knees with their hands on their heads. Alec's team quickly secured them, and Alec keyed his mic again.

"Engine room secure. We've got the ship."

"Commander, we've got a drone feed showing a small boat approaching from the east. Might be a patrol. We need to move."

Alec felt a spike of urgency. The last thing they needed was a firefight with a patrol boat, especially while they were still aboard the rebel ship. He looked at his team, each man ready and waiting for the next command.

"Let's get the crew topside and secure the cargo," Alec ordered. "We need to be off this ship before that boat gets here."

The SEALs moved with practiced efficiency, herding the captured crew members to the deck and securing them in a corner. Alec oversaw the operation, his eyes constantly scanning the horizon for any sign of the approaching boat. The night was still dark, the sea still choppy, but Alec knew they were running out of time.

As the SEALs began to transfer the missile components and other weapons to their inflatable craft, Alec kept one eye on the drone feed. The small patrol boat was getting closer, its outline becoming visible against the dark water. It wasn't large, but it was heavily armed, and Alec knew they couldn't risk an engagement.

"Move faster," Alec urged his team, his voice tense.

The SEALs worked quickly, loading the last of the cargo into their craft. Alec could hear the hum of the patrol boat's engines now, a low growl that seemed to vibrate through the deck of the rebel ship. They were cutting it close, too close for comfort.

Finally, the last of the weapons were secured, and Alec signaled for the team to board the inflatable. As they pushed off from the rebel ship, Alec could see the patrol boat closing in, its spotlight cutting through the darkness, sweeping over the water.

"Go, go, go!" Alec shouted to the boat's driver.

The inflatable's engine roared to life, and they sped away from the rebel ship, the small craft skimming over the waves. Alec kept his eyes on the patrol boat, watching as it approached the rebel vessel, its spotlight now fixed on the ship. The SEALs had timed their escape perfectly; the patrol boat was too focused on the rebel ship to notice the small inflatable disappearing into the night.

As they raced back toward the mobile sea base, Alec finally allowed himself to breathe. The mission had been a success—they had secured the weapons and neutralized the threat without losing a single man. But Alec knew this was just one battle in a much larger war. The rebels would continue to receive support from Iran, and the US Navy would continue to intercept shipments, trying to stem the tide of weapons flowing into Yemen.

Alec focused on the here and now. The inflatable craft sped across the dark waters, the men around him silent and alert, their mission complete but their guard still up. Alec scanned the horizon, his mind already shifting to the debrief, to the next mission, to the constant, unending fight to keep the world just a little bit safer.

The mobile sea base loomed ahead, its lights a beacon in the darkness. Alec's heart rate began to slow as they neared the ship, the adrenaline of the mission fading into a deep-seated weariness. As they pulled alongside the massive vessel, Alec knew that tonight, at least, they had made a difference. But he also knew that tomorrow would bring another mission, another challenge, and the fight would continue.

Naval Base Coronado

San Diego, California

Two Months Later

"Commander, are you sure I can't change your mind?" The admiral had flown in after being informed that Alec had chosen not to re-enlist and had tendered his resignation.

"Yes, sir, I am."

"But why, Alec? You're up for another promotion, which you're a shoe-in for…"

"I appreciate that, sir, but it doesn't change anything. I've put in my twenty years and it's time for me to hang up my flippers. My body has taken more abuse than it was ever designed to do. Frankly, sir, I'm tired of fighting for people who won't fight for themselves. I'm tired of risking my life for people who would spit in my face after we've saved them." Alec shook his head. "No, I've been offered a job by Robert Fitzwallace."

"Damn that man. He scoops up the best of the best and then hires out as a private mercenary…"

"Fitzwallace has never worked against the interests of the United States or the United Kingdom; nor would he."

"I know. I know. Hell, Fitz is a friend, and if I'm being honest, I don't blame him. He's put together one of the best black ops and security firms in the world. So, you'll be relocating to London?"

"He's given me my choice of locations. I've decided to relocate to Chicago."

"Brrr," said the admiral with a smile. "Damn cold in Chicago, but I hear his Club Southside is the hottest spot in town."

Alec grinned. He was well aware of Fitzwallace's growing number of clubs: Baker Street in London, Club Southside in Chicago, and Carriage House in Charleston. Alec had played at Baker Street more than once, and one of Fitzwallace's enticements was a compensation package which made his Naval salary look like chump change and included playing privileges at all three clubs.

As he signed the final paperwork that would separate him from the Navy, he leaned back before standing and snapping the admiral a final salute. "It's been an honor, sir."

"The honor has been mine, Alec," said the admiral returning the salute and then extending his hand.

As Alec left Naval Base Coronado, a bald eagle cried out overhead. Alec looked up and smiled. He had no idea where the eagle was going. Alec might know where he was going, but he hadn't a clue what his future held. Best he get on to finding that out.