Page 8 of Legacy
“Five,” Dad says. “With you. This is classified as of now, so don’t run your mouth.”
I choke on the last gulp of shake, and set the blender in the deep sink. Margarita gets here in an hour to clean. She’ll usually prep dinner for me if I’m home, and if I’m away training, she spends her time organizing. I keep a full-time housekeeper and security employed at all times, even when I’m deployed. Shit gets dusty, and well, I’m a subscriber to cleanliness is close to godliness.
“Dad, are you trying to tell me I need to play nice? You know I’m not going to hassle the woman. That’s not me.” I actually even tried to give her some solid encouragement when I saw her looking like death during Hell Week. She looked like she’d been ridden hard and hung up wet. Really, really wet. Hell Week wet is different than normal wet.
“You might need to do more than play nice. She needs to…be integrated and the best way to do that is if she makes friends quickly. Friends in her platoon. Someone who knows the ropes to offer a helping hand.”
Leaning my back against the counter, I gaze out the kitchen window. I want to get out in that beautiful SoCal day and feel the warmth of the sun on my shoulders. “What’s all the bullshit about equal treatment if you’re going to tell me how to act? Seems a little against protocol, Mav.” I grin, envisioning his face as I talk back.
“Son, you listen here. It’s not so much me telling you how to act as it is me reminding you how you were raised. Make your mom proud. That’s the last I’ll say about that. Dempsey will have the HR Officer in her corner and that woman is not playing. After she congratulated Liam on his daughter’s success, she ball checked him by sending a new rules and regulations order to share with the Teams. It’s…tedious.” He coughs. “To say the least.”
“Let me get this straight. You want me to befriend her and I bet it’s against regulations to be within a hundred-foot radius of her body at all times.”
He grunts. That tells me I’ve probably hit the nail on the head. “You went through the wringer when you made it through and joined the Teams,” Dad says. “Because of who I am. So maybe you make her life easier by commiserating with her. That’s all.”
He changes the subject and asks about my plans for the rest of the day. I tell him Dagger is coming over to work out and then no plans until later tonight. I try to keep my weekend days as low key as possible as the nights are…a little wild. Most of my friends are in the Teams, but I do also have friends from my younger days, before the military, when we were a bunch of rich kids running around Southern California doing whatever the fuck we wanted. Some of them are trouble. Chase, my best friend from high school, now owns several nightclubs. He takes pride in hobnobbing with celebrities. That often leads to him having to dust off his nose.
“Why do you ask,” I say. “You guys want to come over? Marley called last night and asked to come over with some friends, to hang by the pool. I told her you guys needed to be here for that. I don’t want to babysit high school girls.” I head back to my bedroom and grab a pair of black workout shorts from a long drawer, and pull them on.
Dad sighs. It sounds cynical. “I have the pinning ceremony. Heading to base now. Do you and Dagger want to meet at Mayton’s after you work out? To celebrate with the new guys?”
Mayton’s is a restaurant and it isthecelebration spot after new SEALs are pinned. When you’re going through BUD/S and SQT you’re not allowed to step foot in the place. It’s a sacred ritual. Mayton’s is known for surly men and bad behavior. They also make an awesome burger I can rarely refuse.
“Sure, Mav. We’ll be there.” At the very least it will be entertaining watching the new teammates interact with us. Dad wishes me a good workout, we hang up, and Dagger buzzes the front door. My security lets him in and he calls out for me in his baritone growl.
I walk to meet him, checking my watch. “Why are you here so early?”
Dagger, like his name, is sharp. His hair is always done, his clothes are always impeccable, and, well, he’s sort of ruthless. There might be a story about him, a sharp knife, and a bad guy, but he never confirms or denies anything. Dagger came here to workout at and his hair is gelled. He ignores me and wanders into the kitchen.
“You have a fully stocked fridge and I don’t. Is Marg here yet? I want an egg white omelet.”
My housekeeper cooks for my friends when they’re here. Dagger loves this more than most and Margarita buys Dagger’s favorites when she does my shopping.
“Disappointment coming, bro. She doesn’t get here until later,” I admit. “We’ll be gone.”
He groans and opens the sub-zero fridge that houses the meat and dairy. The adjacent fridge has all of the produce.
“Make a smoothie. I’m going to warm up. Hitting extra cardio because we’re going to eat burgers at Mayton’s after this. With the FNGS.”
He grins, flashing his wolfish smile. “Yes, ma’am,” Dagger says, pulling out veggies and fruits.
I slide the huge tub of protein across to him and offer a clean blender jar. He’s humming the Death March as I walk back down the hall to the back stairs that lead to the first level. There are four bedrooms, four bathrooms, a smaller kitchen, and a full-sized gym down here. I adjust the thermostat to lower the A/C before I enter the double glass doors and head to my favorite treadmill. When I have to run inside instead of outdoors, this is my spot. In front of the mirrored wall, next to the big screen television.
I turn the sound system on low and find my running playlist before warming up. I’m jogging, about to start sweating when Dagger waltzes in, dancing to the music. He has blueberry stained lips. “I got my cardio in last night,” he says, waggling his eyebrow. “Just need to lift. Wasn’t Chantal on the schedule last night?” he asks casually, like it was a business meeting. And I guess for him, that’s probably what dates are.
“Didn’t get enough cardio last night,” I reply. “And she won’t be on my schedule again.”
He chuckles, grabbing the heaviest dumbbells in the gym and starts pumping his biceps next to my tread. I up the speed to my normal pace and settle in. “You think that chick will be at Mayton’s?” Dagger asks. “Dempsey’s daughter?” Everyone knows she made it through training, but not everyone knows what Team she’ll be on or if she’ll participate in the normal ritualistic stuff that happens after.
I don’t meet his eyes in the mirror. “No clue,” I say, breathing hard. “She earned her right to go though. You know?” Planting the integration bug now will be easier than later. Dagger is on SEAL Team 5 with me. And I’m close to him.
“Yeah, but, man. It’s going to be weird as fuck.” He watches his biceps bow and pumps as he speaks. “Like, think about deployments when we’re shooting the shit in down time. Half of what we talk about is fucking and tits. I can’t see how this is going to end well for anyone.”
I pass him a blank look to tell him I feel the same while trying to arrange my true thoughts. What she went through was what we all went through. Things will have to shift as we enter uncharted territory. It surely won’t all be bad as she was raised by a SEAL, inside the community. Knowing what she’s getting herself into is something she was born with. The lifestyle is familiar to her. She’s weathered deployments, attended funerals for fallen uncles, and has been privy to knowledge average citizens could never dream of knowing. I’m breathing haphazardly several minutes later when I respond. Dagger is on a different machine, legs. Slowing to a walk, I draw in a deep breath.
“I knew her as a kid,” I exhale. “We both grew up in this community orbiting the same circle. I get it. Why she chose this path.” Hopping off the tread, I grab the dumbbells Dagger just had and start pumping before my heart rate dips.
“You’re really going to be that guy, aren’t you?” Dagger hisses, smirking.
