Way of the Warrior (Troubleshooters #17.5)(114)

“Senior wants you, Zanella,” Mark told Izzy, managing to keep his tenor sounding calm and matter-of-fact. But he opened his eyes, just a millimeter wider, shooting Izzy a message-filled look while Dan’s head was down.

Ruh-roh.

Izzy answered with a questioning narrowing of his own eyes, to which Mark responded with a tip of his not-quite-red head, complete with a pointed look at the senior, as if to say, All your questions will be answered, douchebag, if you simply stand up and cross the room.

So Izzy stood up and crossed the room, leaving Marky-Mark to distract Danny with some scintillating pregnancy-related topic. “Lindsey’s having these crazy erratic swings regarding food,” he heard Mark say as if he really gave half a shat. “She gets these cravings, but in the time it takes me to cook dinner, the thing she was craving now completely grosses her out.”

“Take her out to eat,” Izzy heard Dan recommend. “Or get to-go and order two very different meals. Then be ready to give her yours when the food comes. Switch plates again, halfway through. Works like a charm.”

Meanwhile, the muscle was jumping in Senior Chief Wolchonok’s very square jaw. In true senior chief manner, he cut through the bullshit and got to the point. “I got a phone call from Eden,” the senior said, and Izzy swallowed the surprised urge to say My Eden? Because really, it wasn’t as if they knew a dozen different Edens. His wife’s name was relatively unique.

Instead, as Izzy instantly did the math and realized that Danny was probably right and Eden was with Jenn, the senior chief confirmed that.

“She’s with Jennilyn Gillman. Her car broke down, they’re out of town somewhere in the desert, they’re having some kind of weird heat wave, and Jenn’s gone into labor.”

Izzy turned inappropriate surprised laughter into a cough that didn’t fool Wolchonok.

“Before your wife could tell me where they are,” the senior grimly continued, “the signal broke up. I haven’t been able to resume contact with her. I’m hoping you can help.”

“Eden told me she was going out to Obsidian Springs,” Izzy said. “But with Tracy, not Jenn. FYI, it’s a Palm Springs wannabe, not far from Borrego Springs, and even less successful.” At his words, the rest of the telethon team sprang into action, including the senior. They all started barking orders into their phones.

Izzy got out his own phone and speed-dialed Eden. “Come on, come on, come on,” he said as the thing first searched for a signal, and then went straight to his wife’s voice mail.





CHAPTER 5


    Lopez


“Every member of a SEAL Team has a specific job,” Jay told the roomful of wide-eyed ten-and eleven-year-olds, and one very attractive twentysomething—after he’d explained to them exactly how he’d gotten injured. He knew they wouldn’t be able to focus until he got that story out of the way, and it had eaten into much of his time. He now had maybe twenty minutes left before school ended for the day.

But that was great. He’d leave ’em wanting more—especially the twentysomething.

“Every SEAL has a specific area of expertise,” he continued, “in addition to being able to handle explosives, fire weapons, swim, run, jump out of planes—these are skills that all SEALs have, right? But we each also have a few talents that are unique, that we bring to the team, that make the team stronger. And when our COs—commanding officers—and our senior chiefs are deciding who to send on a mission, they take that into account. For example, I’m a hospital corpsman. Who knows what that means?”

Carol Redmond was smiling—she clearly knew what it meant. It was, to be honest, Jay’s deal-closer. He knew exactly what he looked like. With his dark hair, brown eyes, handsome face, and trim physique, he knew he had the ability to catch a pretty woman’s eye. His being a SEAL helped out in that department, too. But women liked men who saved lives, and it was the fact that he was a hospital corpsman that got him the non-hesitating yes when he asked a woman out to dinner.

But that was a question for later.

Right now, several hands shot up around the room, but Jay called on HoboMofo’s daughter, Brianna, who looked almost shockingly like her gigantic father, with the same thick blond hair and wide blue eyes. With her redwood-tree-like build, Bree already towered over her teacher. Although unlike her dad’s angry ogre affect, the girl’s default expression was a charming, quicksilver smile that transformed her completely. She was pure strapping milkmaid—with an easygoing manner that was sweet and friendly.

“A hospital corpsman is like a paramedic.” Brianna turned to speak to the entire class. “You know, when you call an ambulance, paramedics are the ones who show up and perform first aid and save everyone’s life.”

“That’s right,” Jay said. “And why do you think Hobo…Bert!” He cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Hubert, Brianna’s dad, and I—why do you think we rarely serve together on the same team?”

“Because you’re both hospital corpsmen,” Brianna answered triumphantly.

“That’s right,” Jay said, smiling back at the girl, aware that her teacher was watching and smiling, too. Yes, he was very good with kids, thanks. “And most seven or eight men SEAL Teams need only one. Because they also need a radio man, an explosives expert, a point man—he’s the guy who goes first when you go into dark and scary places—that’s an important job.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “A sniper, a commanding officer—can’t forget him, he’s in charge.” The classroom door opened, and an older woman poked her head in. As Jay kept talking, he watched Carol cross toward her. “And depending on the mission, we might need a languages expert, or a computer expert, or a variety of other types of experts.”