SEAL with a Secret Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  SEAL WITH A SECRET

  Paige Tyler

  Copyright © 2022 by Paige Tyler

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission from the author.

  Editing by Jennifer Jakes / The Killion Group, Inc.

  Copyediting by RVP Editing

  With special thanks to my extremely patient and understanding husband, without whose help and support I couldn’t have pursued my dream job of becoming a writer. You’re my sounding board, my idea man, my critique partner, and the absolute best research assistant any girl could ask for!

  Thank you.

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  http://www.paigetylertheauthor.com

  PROLOGUE

  Lithuania

  “When did the Navy SEALs start providing personal protection services to foreign nationals?” Petty Officer Lane Roberts asked as he sat down in a flower print upholstered chair with wooden arms. “And when did we start wearing civilian clothes for our operations?”

  Lane had done his fair share of off-the-wall missions in his years with SEAL Team 5, but he’d never expected to find himself in a small farm cottage in Lithuania, guarding a politician from his home country of Belarus, along with the man’s wife and two children, wearing jeans and a T-shirt while working for the U.S. State Department of all things. He hadn’t even known the State Department conducted overseas operations like this.

  Despite the colorful woven rug on the floor and finely embroidered tablecloth on the table in the adjoining kitchen that gave the cottage an old-world charming vibe, he couldn’t shake the idea that the whole thing felt a little weird.

  “Bogdan Rybak is a member of the Belarusian National Assembly—or at least he used to be,” Noah Bradley said. One of Lane’s best friends on the Team, he stood gazing out the window into the darkness beyond, keeping an eye on the main approach to the house and the two State Department agents moving around outside patrolling the front yard area. “From what I understand, that’s like a congressman for us. Apparently, Bogdan developed a strong following over the past few years with his rather modernist ideas on improving the Belarus economy, opening up alternative political parties, and gaining energy independence from Russia. Rumors are that the current president of the country felt threatened by Bogdan’s growing popularity and targeted him and his entire family for assassination. The couple and their daughters barely made it across the border into Lithuania.”

  Lane considered that information, assuming Noah had gotten it from the State Department rep who’d been there when he and his Teammates first arrived that morning. Admittedly, Lane didn’t know much about Belarusian politics, but from what he’d read, he knew Belarus was ruled by an authoritarian type of leader who’d been in power for damn near thirty years. The man had direct ties with the ruling party in Russia, and simply didn’t allow opposition to exist in his country. Given that, Lane wasn’t surprised the man had ordered a rival to be killed. But going after the man’s family, too? That was messed up—even for a dictator.

  But it definitely explained why Lane had barely seen Bogdan and his family since he and his Teammates arrived. The Rybaks had come downstairs long enough for the State Department rep to introduce everyone, then the parents and their children had disappeared upstairs again, not to be seen since. Lane couldn’t blame them for needing some space. They were all almost certainly still dealing with the trauma of nearly being killed and their subsequent narrow escape from their country.

  “I still don’t understand what any of that has to do with us,” Lennox Thompson said from where he sat on the far side of the room on the couch, along with Colt Hughes, the fourth member of the Team assigned to the protective detail. Dark-haired with blue eyes, he frowned in obvious confusion. “I’ve never heard of a SEAL Team being used for something like this. This is the first time I’ve even met anyone in the State Department.”

  Lennox and Colt were both new to Lane and Noah’s platoon, transferring over from one of the others on Coronado. Movement between the eight platoons that made up SEAL Team 5 wasn’t necessarily common, but it did happen. In fact, Lane had transferred a few months ago. It wasn’t that he hadn’t gotten along with the guys in his old platoon, but after getting promoted, they’d had one too many at his rank, so he’d transferred. He’d already gotten close to Noah and the other guys in the short amount of time he’d been working with them and got the feeling that Lennox and Colt would fit in just fine, too.

  “The State Department is in the process of arranging political asylum for Bogdan and his family, but that could take some time,” Noah answered, still looking out the window. “With the threat from both the Russians and the Belarusian, the State Department knew they needed help from someone with more tactical expertise than their people have.”

  “What about the CIA?” Colt asked, tipping back the bottle of pear flavored soda in his hand and taking a big drink. With his perpetually tousled dark blond hair and California tan, the guy looked like he’d just come back from a day of surfing. “Doesn’t their Special Operations Group usually handle this kind of thing?”

  Noah shrugged, turning away from the window to look at them, blue eyes clouded. “Normally, yeah. But with all the stuff still going on right now in Afghanistan, Syria, and Yemen, it’s not surprising they reached out for help.”

  Colt looked like he wanted to say something in response to that, but Noah announced it was time for them to relieve the State Department people, letting them take their turn inside and keep an eye on the Rybak family.

  “Lane, you’re with me,” Noah added, heading for the back door. “Colt and Lennox, you take the front of the property.”

  Giving the two State Department guys a nod as they traded places, Lane couldn’t help admitting to himself that he was a little worried about trusting them in a firefight if things went sideways. They were nice enough, but there was simply something about the way they carried themselves that made him think they had limited training with weapons and little actual field experience. Thankfully, he and his Teammates had both.

  “How’s everything going with Peyton?” Lane asked softly as he and Noah made their way toward the heavier shadows that shrouded the lawn thanks to the forest that bordered this side of the property. With the soft light from the windows of the house spilling onto the grass, it didn’t take long for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. “Are things still going well now that you’ve moved in together full-time?”

  Noah had been in a relationship with Peyton Matthews, bestselling author and all-around-amazing woman, for a little over eight weeks. To say things were getting serious between them would be an understatement.

  Noah’s mouth edged up in a smile. “Yeah. Don’t tell anyone I said this, but I can see myself asking her to marry me sooner rather than later.”

  “Marry you?” Lane did a double take. “Already?”

  His buddy shru
gged. “I’m not saying I’m going to ask her the second we get back, but Peyton is definitely the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. When you know, you know.” He glanced at Lane. “You know?”

  Lane didn’t know because he hadn’t yet met anyone he felt that way about, but he supposed that made sense.

  “Anyway,” Noah continued when he didn’t say anything. “That being the case, I don’t want to waste time playing games. Not with the job we do. We have to hold onto the good things in our lives the moment we find them.”

  “I’ll have to take your word on that,” Lane said, turning to gaze into the near pitch blackness under the trees. They hadn’t been allowed to bring their night vision goggles on this trip because the State Department thought they were too militaristic, which made locating threats in the forest damn near impossible.

  “You seeing anyone at the moment?” Noah asked.

  While Noah’s voice was casual enough—and his attention focused on a second-floor light that someone in the house had turned on—Lane knew his friend’s question was anything but.

  “Not really,” Lane answered just as casually. “I’ve been trying to get together with Laurissa since that night of the promotion party, but so far, we haven’t been able to set anything up. Maybe when we get back.”

  Lane studied his buddy out of the corner of his eye, waiting for Noah’s reaction at hearing he was interested in his sister, but other than his jaw tightening, Noah didn’t say anything.

  The moment Lane had seen Laurissa at that party, he was sure they’d met before. While they had, it hadn’t been in person. Instead, it had been on Tinder. And they’d swiped right on each other. Lane wasn’t sure what bothered Noah more. That his “baby sister” had a profile on a dating app or that she’d found Lane on there.

  Laurissa was gorgeous, funny, and someone he’d love to get to know better. On top of that, even though Noah might think of her as his “little sister,” she was a woman who could make her own decisions about whom she did or didn’t date. Of course, Noah didn’t see it that way, and Lane would have to be clueless not to recognize that his buddy didn’t want him anywhere near her. Obviously, Noah didn’t think Lane was good enough for her.

  But Noah wasn’t going to stop Lane from asking Laurissa out, especially since she’d already made it clear that she was as interested in him as he was in her.

  “How long do you think we’ll have to stay in Lithuania pulling babysitting duty for the Rybak family?” he asked, changing the subject.

  “I can’t imagine it taking much more than a week or so before the State Department gets the asylum paperwork done,” Noah said, stopping to stare into the trees. “But then they’ll have to figure out how to move them, which might mean asking for our help again.”

  “You honestly think they’ll move the family to the U.S.?” Lane wondered aloud. “I mean, this isn’t the cold-war era. If they put someone as recognizable as Bogdan Rybak anywhere in the States, social media will find him in a few days.”

  “I agree, but where else can they relocate them? If it were only Rybak, that’d be one thing, but he has a wife and two kids. There’s no way the State Department can simply dump them in the middle of some crap hole and hope for the best.”

  Lane nodded. He completely understood what Noah was talking about. The highlight of this morning’s meet-and-greet with the family had been those two kids. Sofia, the older of the two girls at sixteen, was quiet and graceful as a deer while eight-year-old Maria was a precocious bundle of energy. Lane could understand why Bogdan and his wife would do anything to get them to safety. If he ever had kids, he’d do the same thing.

  “Do you think we have to worry about anyone actually trying to make a move against them again?” Lane asked. “Would the Belarusians cross the border into Lithuania for another assassination attempt?”

  Noah shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m hoping the State Department is good enough at hiding people so we never have to find out, but if the people after Bogdan figure out where he and his family are hiding, I don’t think the fact that we’re thirty miles across the Belarus border in Lithuania is gonna stop them.”

  Lane cursed silently. The thought of anyone coming after those poor kids and their parents pissed the hell out of him. Before he could say that to Noah, their new Teammate’s voice came over the radio.

  “We got movement to the east side of the farm heading our way,” Lennox announced, his voice low, clearly not wanting to be overheard. “Four of them, staying in the shadows to avoid detection. I don’t know who they are, but I know trouble when I see it.”

  Lane pulled his Glock. For most tactical operations, he would have also been carrying an M4A1 carbine. But due to the sensitivity of this particular mission—and the State Department taking lead—they’d been limited to small caliber handguns only. Now, with the possibility of a real firefight on the near horizon, he felt damn near naked.

  His first instinct was to immediately run toward the far side of the property to help his Teammates deal with the threat coming their way, but Lane knew he and Noah couldn’t do that. They were here to protect Bogdan Rybak and his family, who were in the house with four inexperienced State Department agents to keep them safe. Not to mention the fact that there was a good chance the movement to the east was intended to lure them away from the house. Textbook bait and switch ambush.

  “We need to get back to the house,” Lane whispered to Noah as he turned to head in that direction, his gut screaming they were already too late.

  He and Noah had almost reached the back of the cottage when the shooting started. As he’d feared, it wasn’t coming from the east side of the property where Lennox and Colt were patrolling, but instead, from inside the home.

  Lane took off running at full speed, Noah right on his heels. They’d barely reached the front of the house when the sounds of automatic fire reached them from the east.

  “They’ve got us pinned down out here,” Lennox announced over the radio a split second later, his tone calm even though it was hard to hear him over the staccato bursts of gunfire coming through Lane’s ear bud. “We’re not going to be able to reach the house for a while, so you two watch yourselves. These guys are good.”

  “Copy that,” Lane said.

  The front door of the house was wide open, and Lane moved through it quickly to avoid being an easy target. Noah slipped in right behind him, rolling right as Lane went left. He and Noah had done this same thing more than a few times both in training and real life, covering each other as they moved through a building, clearing each corner and blind spot as they reached it.

  They found the first State Department agent lying dead on the floor of the kitchen, a shattered coffee cup lying nearby, dark liquid staining the floor along with the man’s blood. The poor guy’s weapon was still in its underarm holster. The man hadn’t even had time to even draw it before the killer shot hit him in the chest.

  While Lane recognized the dead agent’s face, he hadn’t had time to learn his name. That seemed to make it worse somehow. If it was anything like the SEALs, the State Department would probably never tell the man’s family what had happened to him. Just that he’d been killed in the line of duty while serving his country.

  Cursing under his breath, Lane followed Noah out of the kitchen. They cleared the lower floor quickly, then cautiously made their way up the stairs to the second level. Lane was halfway there when a man darted out from behind the wall at the top of the landing. Lane put a single round through the man’s head before he could get off a shot.

  Then he and Noah were charging up the stairs, moving from room to room on the second floor as quickly as they could. Another State Department agent was lying dead in the middle of the hallway. Unlike the man in the kitchen, this one had at least gotten his gun out of its holster.

  Giving Noah a nod over his shoulder, Lane slowly led the way down the hall toward the main bedroom. On top of not knowing how many shooters were up there, they also had
to worry about getting accidentally shot by one of the two remaining State Department agents. Assuming both of them were still alive.

  Two more bad guys suddenly stepped out of a bedroom on the left, one standing tall and one dropping to a knee, guns pointed in their direction. Lane dived to the floor to avoid being hit by a spray of automatic weapon fire, emptying the entirety of his thirty round extended magazine in the shooters’ direction. Then he was up and moving before the bodies hit the floor, reloading as he went.

  When he and Noah got to the end of the hallway, they stopped and took a quick look around the corner to see that the door of the main bedroom at the end was open. Three dead hostiles were on the floor while two more pressed themselves against either wall of the hallway, trying to avoid the spray of bullets coming through the door. One of the men lifted the small grenade he held, his finger coming up to pull the pin.

  Lane took out the guy with the grenade before the man could pull the pin and toss it while Noah dealt with the other one. He was about to call out to the Rybaks that they were safe when gunfire echoed from the bedroom. Crap, there were more hostiles in there. There was no way the Rybaks would survive with that many rounds flying around in such close quarters. Especially if the Belarusians had been willing to throw a grenade into the room with their own people inside.

  Glancing at Noah, he signaled with his free hand that he was entering the room. When Noah nodded, Lane charged forward, rolling to the left the moment he entered the bedroom. Coming up to his knees, he quickly took in the scene even as he lifted his weapon to take aim.

  All four members of the Rybak family were huddled down behind the bed, an overturned dresser providing the only protection from the hail of bullets filling the space. Rybak’s wife held her tearful daughters close, desperate to protect them. One of the State Department agents was slumped, unmoving, on the floor near the bottom of the bed. The other was kneeling in front of the two girls and their mother, trying to shield them with her body.