Page 77 of Brawler
Those shadows, fuck, those shadows. Chaos. The word itself shivered through him like a blade on steel. Was it fighting his side of the Veil for centuries? Was it still fighting now?
He dragged in a breath, chest heaving. He’d always thought of the US as the linchpin. A deterrent to the world. Peacekeepers,guardians, a bastion against tyranny and conquest. But the visions bled truth into him whether he wanted it or not. The birth of his nation had been tumultuous, tested, nearly broken. Every war since had been a trial.
Maybe that was the point.
Maybe it wasn’t just about politics, borders, leaders. Maybe it was about spirit. The indomitable spirit of his kind, the men and women who stood up and said,I’ll fight. I’ll sacrifice. I’ll give my life for this idea, this concept, this conviction of freedom.
I’ll fight evil. I’ll strive for justice. I’ll protect the innocent.
I’ll carry my brothers.
I’ll carry them, honor them, bleed for them.
I’ll be what I am. Warrior. SEAL. Brother. Protector. Guardian until my dying breath.He floated, and threads started weaving together.
Three days.
Three days of waiting. Three days of silence. Three days while Emily sat alone somewhere, terrified, thinking no one was coming for her.
Tex had finally had enough.
Two black SUVs rolled up to the State Department like a storm front. Seven SEALs spilled out, moving with precision and purpose, and the polished marble lobby warped around them. Suits froze mid-step, aides stopped speaking, secretaries watched open-mouthed, their eyes climbing over all that show of muscle.
Brawler’s blood pounded. He didn’t give a damn what was happening around them. They were here for Emily. They stood on that tarmac with enough firepower to face down an army,and they had taken her from them with a few pieces of fucking paper. Each footfall was a reminder she was here somewhere, alone, scared. Fury vibrated in his bones, tight enough to split him apart.
At the reception desk, a young aide half-rose, clutching a clipboard like a shield. “G-Gentlemen, what can I do for you?”
Tex’s voice cracked through the lobby, flat and lethal. “Where is Emily Shade?”
The aide faltered, eyes darting to his phone. “Emily Shade?”
“Call who you need to call. You’ve already kept us in the dark for three days.”
He picked up the phone, dialed, his eyes going over them. In them was respect and maybe a little awe. After fifteen minutes, when the tic in Tex’s jaw started to warn of impending doom, a man emerged from the elevator, and spying them, strode forward. Another suit with a smirk. Mid-level authority oozing self-importance.
“Kevin Hall,” he announced smoothly, flashing a badge. “I’m handling Miss Shade’s case. You’ll direct all questions through me.” His gaze raked over them, dismissive. “She was debriefed. Warned not to speak of the operation. If she violates that directive…” He shrugged one shoulder. “Treason carries a heavy price.”
Something primal cracked inside Brawler’s chest. His fists balled so tight his knuckles popped. The image of Emily hearing that word,treason,knocked the air out of him. He took a step forward, jaw locked, every muscle coiled to put Hall straight through the polished wall.
“Bondo, Easy,” Tex said softly, and Brawler found his arms grabbed, his teammates holding him back from making a big mistake.
“Careful,” Tex warned low, without looking at him.
Hall’s smirk widened, misreading restraint for weakness. “She’s lucky we released her at all. Frankly, gentlemen, you should be thanking me. She could’ve been held indefinitely.”
Bondo shifted, looming half a step closer. Easy’s jaw worked. Shark’s hands flexed at his sides. The air vibrated, dangerous as a tripwire, seven lethal operators straining against the leash.
Hall flicked a glance to security posted at the far end of the lobby. “If you don’t stand down, I’ll have you removed. You may be SEALs, but this is not your battlefield.”
The guards tensed, heads shaking as if they had no intentions of assaulting Navy SEALs. It was still respect Brawler saw in their eyes. No way would they fight fellow Americans, especially guys doing their jobs. Not here. Not like this.
Every line of Tex’s body vibrated with fury he couldn’t unleash. He gave Hall a look that promised retribution later, then turned sharply.
“Let’s move,” he ordered.
The SEALs pivoted as one, boots striking marble, the echo a war drum rolling down the hall. Everyone watched them go.
Brawler’s pulse thundered, fists still clenched. He’d never felt so raw, so cornered. Emily had been threatened, diminished, and they were still being stood down by mouthpieces that had no idea what they were talking about.
