Page 1 of Carter's Battle

CHAPTER 1

Carter Nolan leanedback in his chair and took a gulp of his ice-cold beer. It had been a long day and the beer tasted refreshing going down his parched throat. He and his SEAL teammates had spent the day testing radio equipment out at the Brotherhood Protectors ranch on the big island of Hawai’i.A fucking colossal waste of time.He hissed out a long sigh.

“What’s up with you?” Bowie Colson demanded. “The beer not cold enough?”

Carter frowned at his teammate. “Just a long day and a big bootless errand. We’re testing equipment we know works. It’s just bullshit.”

“Well, it’s the kind of bullshit I like,” Flint O’Connell grunted. “Four weeks on the Big Island? Dude, Hawai’i is a fucking vacation, and you should be happier about it. Look at this place. When was the last time we had a chance to chill that wasn’t in a dive bar in some godforsaken corner of the earth?”

Carter glanced around Ohana’s. He still couldn’t believe Waylen Brown and the rest of his team owned the bar. They all claimed it was the best place around, and from what Carter could see, they weren’t wrong. Surfboards and tiki masks hung on the walls. The long wooden bar gleamed in the setting sun.The jukebox in the corner played Margaritaville, and Jimmy Buffet had just stepped on a pop-top. Not many better places to waste away. Or waste time.

Flint was right. This was so much better than the places where they usually had downtime.

He turned over his cell and glanced at the screen. Still nothing. He returned the device to the face-down position again. Castle said he’d text when he knew something. Carter swigged more beer and tried to relax.

Quinn Kennedy pointed at the phone. “You’re like a teenage girl waiting for some guy to text her. The CO said he’d text when he knew something. It’s only been twenty-four hours. Give the man a chance. It can’t be easy to conduct this kind of investigation without tipping his hand.”

“I know,” Carter agreed. “But I just don’t like this shit hanging over our heads. McCarthy and the rest of those assholes are really fucking slick, and it makes me sick to know they’re wreaking havoc, but we can’t prove it.”

Quinn nodded. “We’re all pissed about the situation, but Castle said to come here and put up a pretext like we believe these last few missions have been plagued by equipment failure. We’re here to test it. We gotta do what the CO says. Have a little faith, brother.”

Carter bit his tongue. He knew Quinn was right. Letting it go was damn hard because now it was personal. He lacked patience most days, but he was majorly pissed that four men on their team were crooked and were out to get him and his friends killed.

“Can I get you boys another round?” the bartender called from across the room. It was late afternoon and more customers were trickling in.

“Lighten up. The view here is excellent.” Quinn kicked Carter’s chair as he gave the cute bartender a nod and a big smile.

Carter was pretty sure Quinn wasn’t talking about the exterior view on the other side of the bar. The squawk of electronic interference filled the bar and people groaned.

“Sorry, sorry,” called a pretty woman from the small stage at the back of the bar.

“Hey, Moana, you singing tonight?” asked the bartender who was setting snacks out on the bar.

“Yeah, Dahlia. Thought I’d do a set.”

“Awesome. So glad you’re back.”

A dark-haired woman brought another round of beers to their table. The way she moved and kept her eye on the bar made Carter think she might have been some kind of law enforcement in a past life.

“Can I get you guys anything else?”

“I think we’re good, Ms…” Flint let his voice peter out.

“Emery.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Emery. I’m Flint.”

“No it’s just Emery.” She gave him a nod and then turned on her heel and headed back toward the bar.

Bowie snorted. “I think she’s blown away by your charm, Flint. She practically had to run across the bar to stop herself from crawling into your lap.”

“I’m glad to see you understand the situation.” Flint’s grin was broad.

Carter let his friends’ banter wash over him as he practiced patterned breathing to quiet his mind. He needed a distraction if he was going to get through these next four weeks. Something to keep his mind busy and stop the review of their last few missions that seemed to play on a vicious loop in his brain.

A petite, dark-haired woman carrying a satchel emerged from the back office. Her long black hair was contained in a ponytail that swished just above her curvy butt as she walked. She glanced at the stage and then turned to the bartender. “Emery, is Moana singing tonight?”

“Yeah. I’m super-stoked. It’s been ages since she’s performed here. You gonna stay?” Emery sat down on a stool at the bar. “Stay, Mia. It’ll be fun.”

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