Chapter 10
Brady had several minutes to think about his conversation with Carter on the way down to San Diego. He couldn’t imagine the stress his young, creative former team buddy had been under, having to hold onto the secret he revealed today. Even worse, a commanding officer that none of the men respected had gunned for him simply because of that fact. It was unfair, and Brady already held resentment towards Lt. Stanley, but this put it over the top. He knew, since he was no longer an active part of the SEAL community, he had to do something to right the wrong that had been done to Carter.
It didn’t matter that Carter was perhaps a billionaire, which is what the rumor was. That didn’t count. The personal cost the man had to endure was not right. And it indicated a culture in his former community that needed improvement—needed the light of day shown upon it.
It wasn’t just a moral case, although that was certainly enough for Brady to act. A commanding officer, no matter what his sexual preferences, who imposed his will or abused another fellow warrior could never be trusted in the heat of battle. An officer like that could lead a whole platoon to their graves. An officer like that might try to run away from the problem, demonstrating a lack of courage, while leaving others to die. The SEALs were supposed to be the elite of the elite. Brady understood nobody was perfect, but to willfully try to do damage to another’s career to protect your own ass was wrong. And it deserved to be punished.
Brady trusted Carter even more than he did before. As Carter had mentioned, it was one thing to be a black man raised in Mississippi. Even after the civil rights movement, there were lots of issues surrounding race that were just not supposed to be part of the Navy. The SEAL community was supposed to be devoid of politics, religion, or racial biases. They had men from all over the world who came to the United States primarily to become an elite warrior and fight for this country. It was wrong for somebody raised with a silver spoon in his mouth to take that freedom and dirty it with his own little petty games. Or let his own lack of moral conviction harm another warrior.
So Carter demonstrated to Brady his complete strength of character. Yes, Brady’d grown up in Mississippi too. But Carter was a gay black man growing up in Mississippi. Even if he used his maximum imagination, no way in the world could he ever understand everything Carter had been through.
He respected him. Carter never complained, and he could have. He just went on and did his job, taking the highway exit when he could.
Brady showered and laid out his clothes for tomorrow, just as he used to do when they were overseas. He’d always been harassed by the guys for even setting out his boots with the socks tucked in, his underwear on top of his pants. It was as if he was dressing for a funeral or dressing a skeleton or “bones,” as he was known. He lay on his back and waited for the weight and heat of the day to bring him sleep. He was craving another hot, wet dream about Maggie. He knew that wasn’t a very healthy sign, but if it got him through the day and the night, the very long nights, it was good enough for Brady.
He remembered meeting Maggie at the hospital one time when he had to go in for some minor re-stitching of a wound that had opened and gotten infected. Maggie was talking to the wife of another SEAL, consoling her about her husband’s injuries, and asking the young woman to stay calm for the sake of the baby she was carrying. That’s when he guessed Maggie was perhaps a doctor. Later, he found out she was a skilled doctor, and her specialty was neonatal complications.
He was waiting for his name to be called, sitting roughly six feet away. He’d taken a long look at her when Maggie didn’t notice, but his heart had started racing for some strange reason. It was a very new phenomenon for Brady. And he made himself stare at the wall or anything that walked by to the right, because Maggie and the SEAL wife were on the left.
He listened to her voice, calm and soothing, confident, and caring. She hugged the woman and gave her a card, writing her phone number on the back.
For an evil second, Brady felt like snatching that card out of the young wife’s fingers.
What the hell are you doing, Brady? You having a moment here? Is this a chance encounter you’ve heard about your whole life but never experienced until just this moment?
It had been almost as if his overly inked and muscled fairy godfather was shouting orders in the back of his brain, laughing at him, poking fun, but making him fully aware of the physical changes going on in his body. He sucked in air and tried deep breathing. Then he closed his eyes and tried meditating into those deep breaths. He could hear Maggie’s voice over the inhale and exhale of his body. Her voice, his breath, his eyes closed. He saw them naked, and it was the most beautiful, intimate act, scaring him to pieces.
He’d stood up so fast the wife jumped and said, “Oh!”
He paid no attention and stiffly limped down the hall to the right, his hard-on giving him fits. He approached the reception desk, making sure his appointment was still coming up.
“Mr. Rogers—excuse me—Master Chief Rogers, you are approximately thirty minutes early still. You’re just going to have to be patient. We have other people we are seeing.” The middle-aged nurse was firm but not unfriendly. Her eyes spoke to him and demonstrated the kind of patience she was requesting of him.
He figured she had some experience dealing with big guys with tats used to doing all sorts of other dangerous things, not languishing in a hospital waiting room. It wasn’t one of the things he was trained for. It was something he had to endure. Inside, he laughed at the fact that he was probably more comfortable on a battlefield than in a hospital.
Because in a hospital, he didn’t know what was going on. On a battlefield, he at least had a chance to figure things out and often made the right choices.
He heard a voice behind him. It made his hair at the back of his neck stand out and the lump in his throat constrict him even further. But aside from that and his racing heart, his pants reacted all too familiarly, as if he was a boy of sixteen experiencing it for one of the first times. But he turned anyway, knowing he was on uncharted ground.
“Would you like some water?” Maggie said to him. Her red hair covered her head and shoulders in ringlets, strong and wiry, with definite attitude. He wanted to run his fingers through those copper loops, and he imagined what she’d smell like if he exposed her neck to his mouth. He held her gaze for probably too long and then watched her smile as she held the little cup up to him.
Her hands were shaking. The water trembled in the center of the cup, little circles developing, just like the ringlets in her hair.
Looking down, he reached for the plastic cup, and their fingers briefly touched.
“Thank you. I guess you can tell I’m not exactly comfortable in a hospital setting.” He tried to make himself sound official. A senior enlisted man would be gentlemanly, proper, and in full command. But the command he was thinking about had nothing to do with the military or military protocol.
Her eyes twinkled as she angled her head almost in a frivolous manner. Her eyelashes fluttered. And he saw the white flesh of her upper chest breakout in red blotches.
She was nervous too!
“Well, this is what I do, and so I guess I do feel more comfortable here, but I could remember as a child being very scared. I know how intimidating it can be.”