The Merciless Alpha(erotica)

“I don’t teach pretty techniques to SEALs; all I care about is winning the fight,” he said. “Knife combat, chokes, eye gouges, nut shots, biting, whatever it takes to live. Maximum damage in the minimum time.”

“Will you teach us?” Amy asked. “We’ll be here at least a year. We have classes in the fall, but it’s all online. We can work around your schedule.”Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

“I don’t do gentle, and you’d need to train five days a week to get up to speed in that time,” Hammer said.

“I don’t wake up at five-thirty in the morning to run the beach because I’m on vacation,” I replied. “I saw your eyes and your body language. You had no doubt you would win the fight. That’s the look I want to have, and what I want my friends to have. We can pay for the lessons. Just tell us where and when.”

He thought about it for a minute. “Be here at six in the morning tomorrow. I’ll run with you and decide if you’re worth my time,” he said.

I held out my hand. “That’s all I can ask.” The cops didn’t show up, and we packed up our stuff as we watched him head out on his run. “Let’s get home and look this guy up. I need to know he’s legit.”

It turned out he was. The next morning, he led the run, leaving all of us in his dust at the end. We didn’t give up, and as he ran us through exercises, I could see he was a little impressed. We even did some sparring on the beach so he could gauge our skill level. “Ten in the morning to noon, every weekday,” he said as he handed me the card with the name and address of his dojo. “If you don’t show, I’ll know you’ve quit on me.”

“I’m going to be at my husband’s side in a fight, not hiding behind him,” Amy said defiantly. “We’ll be there.”

“And we’re too stubborn to quit,” I said with a laugh. I’m sure Hammer had heard that from thousands of students.

He was right. His training wasn’t gentle at all. My wolf and I loved it.

**************

On Thursday, we had to rush home to shower and change after dojo. Amy had been invited to a luncheon with the wives of the other BUD/S class members at the home of the Base Commander. I was going as her driver, and I was bringing Noelani as her seeing-eye dog. Makani was going to stay home and bake for the upcoming weekend when her brother would be off.

The luncheon started at noon, and it was eleven forty-five when I drove up to the gate. Security was tight; a guard with an explosives-detection dog walked around our SUV as another guard came to the window. He had saluted when we stopped based on the officer sticker on the car, then asked for our identification as I rolled down the window. As I took Amy’s dependent military ID card, he recognized us. “Holy shit! It’s Sharkbabe and Bootyglove!”

“Excuse me? Is this something I need to mention to the Base Commander when we meet him in ten minutes?” Amy HATED the name that social media had given her. I teased her about it, payback for her Sharkbabe teasing, but it was perfect for her. Her butt filled out the suits better than mine did.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. That was not professional of me, and I can’t apologize enough for my outburst,” he said nervously as his partner came to the window. He checked our names against the list and handed back our identification. “You may proceed, Ma’am.”

“Thank you,” I said as I put the vehicle back in drive and pulled away. “You aren’t going to squeal on that kid, are you? He’s obviously a fan.”

“As long as he doesn’t do it again, I won’t. My husband is an officer. I need them to respect me, or they aren’t respecting him.”

“And we don’t need Kai beating the crap out of the military police.” I drove through the base to the housing area, parking before the large home assigned to the Base Commander. I let Noelani out of the back, and she ran around to sit by the passenger door as I helped Amy out. She held onto the harness as we walked in our dresses and heels to the front door, where a Flag Lieutenant welcomed us in and checked our names off the list.

“Announcing Mrs. Amy Stone and her friend Miss Vicki Lawrence,” he said as he led us to the patio area where the party was.

Rear Admiral Thomas Kirk and his wife Mykayla rose to welcome us. “I’m a big fan of your shark research project,” the Admiral said as we shook hands. “Are you going to continue in this area?”

“I am,” I said. “I don’t have a boat, but we have our gear, and I have a line on a dive shop.”

“I’ll keep you in mind for our next dive trip. I’m sure the guys wouldn’t mind you joining us. Welcome to our home.” His wife was just as pleasant to us. Soon, she had Amy sitting at the table and was introducing her to the other wives and the one husband. I was ‘extra,’ so I stayed back with the Admiral as he waited for his part. Admiral Kirk had been a SEAL for twenty-four years and was retiring in the spring. He loved to scuba dive, and he told me about some of his favorite spots nearby.

“I haven’t done any diving with Amy since her injury,” I told him. “Her skull fractures have healed, but with her vision, I’m afraid it will not be safe. She can’t make out shapes or objects. It’s just fuzzy blobs to her. I know she misses it, and I miss diving with her.”

The Admiral looked at me. “Have you done any night diving? Or diving in low visibility?”

I nodded; it was part of my open-water classes back in Minnesota. We’d dived a strip-mine lake at night. “A few times. Amy and I participated in some missing-swimmer searches in the river, and you could barely see your hand in front of your face.”

“As part of SEAL qualification, the men have to attack a ship in a simulated enemy port. They swim at night, underwater, for two miles using only their watch and a compass. It’s difficult to see as you swim, but when you get under the ship, there’s no light at all.” I started to get what he was saying. “Vision isn’t required to dive. She can do it, with the right conditions and a swim buddy. Start with easy dives, but get her out there. She can’t let her disability take away the joy in her life.” It was sage advice, and I was thinking about it as his wife asked him to say a few words.

“Thank you all for coming today, and thank you for all you do for your men and your nation. The training required to become a Navy SEAL is the most demanding training program in the world. Each class starts with almost a hundred and fifty students, and we graduate somewhere between eight and forty-two. Hell Week isn’t over, and we’re already down to sixty-five in the class. You cannot imagine, and they cannot adequately describe what they are going through right now,” he said.

“When they make it to the weekend, they’ll have time off to recover. It is not the time for nagging, projects, activities, or demands. They will sleep, eat, and recover. Anything else out of them is a bonus.” He picked up his cover. “I have to return to the office, and my wife will tell you more. This week was the worst week of their lives, but next week they have to come back for more. If you want them to make it, you need to show them you love and support them through it all. Thank you.” He kissed his wife and walked out, shadowed by the Lieutenant.

“This isn’t your normal weekend,” his wife picked up. “They will have less than four hours of sleep total since Tuesday. Expect them to fall asleep in the car, then sleep for at least twelve hours when they get home. Try to get them to eat and shower first; easy to digest proteins like eggs are best but make their favorites so they will eat. Their bodies will have sores and even rashes from the chafing and dampness. Take care of them. Massage their aching muscles. Help their bodies recover and be ready for Monday. As the teams say, the only easy day was yesterday. Any questions?”

I listened in as stewards served us tea and sandwiches. The food was good, but the portions only dulled my appetite. None of these ladies had the metabolism that Amy and I had. I did manage to sneak some bacon to Makani under the table, which she wolfed down.

After leaving the luncheon, we stopped at Arby’s for roast beef sandwiches and shakes, then hit the Navy Exchange for groceries before returning home. Sailors and their families recognized Amy and me everywhere, and it only got worse as word of our presence on the base spread like wildfire. I ran out of the promotional photos we kept in the car, and we spent a lot of time taking pictures with our fans. I made sure we got some taken with sailors in front of the Bodyglove dive equipment section of the store, and forwarded them to Mercedes. Amy and I agreed that we should do some military-specific appearances, maybe with the USO.

Hours later, I drove out of the base towards home. We bought lots of extra food, as Kai had warned Amy he would be bringing a few single buddies back with him. He’d rather have his boat crew recover with us rather than being stuck in the barracks all weekend. With that in mind, I bought a whole beef shoulder roast to make clod, and four pork butts for pulled pork. We could smoke the meats ahead of time and have them ready to reheat over the weekend. After putting it all away, we put our skimpy suits on and went out back to get some late-day tanning in. Our condo had an enclosed deck with a hot tub, so we had our privacy. I was about to fall asleep when my phone rang. It was from Bodyglove Corporate, which meant Mercedes. “Hey, boss,” I said.

“I got your pictures, and I can’t agree more,” she said. “If you and Amy do a USO tour, Bodyglove will support the hell out of it.”

“I’ll make some calls and see what we can do,” I said. “There’s a big Navy Exchange at the main base here in San Diego. We could do an event there, easy.”

“It would be great publicity. Social media is loving you today. I swear that dog makes Amy even more beautiful. Get me a number for the store’s manager, and I’ll make the arrangements.” She paused. “Now we get to the fun part. Discovery Channel called me. They are filming a show on Great Whites for Shark Week off Cape Cod, and their host broke his leg. They need you to replace him on short notice. They will cover your expenses and offered fifty thousand upfront, plus residuals and appearance fees. They also agreed to use our new line of Bodyglove wetsuits and swimwear we provide.” Mercedes was coordinating all of my appearances, but I had veto power if it wasn’t in my Bodyglove contract.