Into the Storm Read Online Free PDF Page B

to weigh only ninety-two pounds?” She leaned forward to argue. “Don’t you want to give the SEALs a challenge?” Lindsey turned to Jenk. “Tell him you want a challenge. Tell him you want, I don’t know, Sam Starrett to play the hostage. What is he? Six and a half feet tall? Two ten? Now if only he had a heart condition, too, he’d be a perfect hostage.”
    “This time it’s going to be you,” Tom told her.
    She knew when to stop pushing, so instead she sighed heavily. “All right.”
    “We’ll talk more later,” Tom said, four little words made even more intriguing by the gleam in his eyes. Was it possible she was going to be more than the hostage? Suddenly this was back to maybe being fun.
    Maybe.
    “I just wanted you to meet Jenk,” Tom continued. “If he needs help with the scheduling—or really anything,” he added addressing Jenkins directly, “he’s going to come to you, Linds.”
    Oh, good. She was going to get to be the secretary, as well as the hostage, helping out with scheduling. Whoo-freakin’-hoo. She would have complained that she never saw Tom assigning Sam Starrett to help out with the scheduling—except for the fact that Sam was bitching about Tom giving him a similar task just last week.
    “I was thinking it might be a good idea to have the two teams meet, sometime in the next week,” Jenk suggested. “Maybe over at the Ladybug Lounge?”
    “Really?” Lindsey was skeptical. “That doesn’t seem very realistic. Meeting in advance, at a bar?”
    Hello, Osama, can the boys in your San Diego sleeper cell make it to a party on Tuesday night?
    “This is a silver bullet assignment,” Jenk informed her, then translated. “Just short of R&R. Or it was supposed to be. Before Admiral Tucker got it into his head that it would be a kick to pit Tommy here against the new CO of Team Sixteen.”
    Yikes. Lindsey looked at her boss. “Your old team versus your new?” she asked. “That’s gotta suck. For your old team.” She turned back to Jenk. “We are
so
going to kick your butts.”
    “Yeah, I don’t think so. We’re SEALs. And—no offense, Tommy—Commander Koehl’s a good CO, so—”
    “The poor guy,” Lindsey said. “Because, like, isn’t Team Sixteen still referred to as ‘Tom’s Team’? I mean, that’s gotta sting. Koehl’s been there, what? At least a year already. That must be frustrating. And now if he loses—
when
he loses—”
    Tom interrupted. “Training ops are not about winning and losing. They’re about learning. About improving.”
    Lindsey looked at Jenk, who was looking back at Lindsey with an expression equally disbelieving. Not about winning? Who did Tom think he was kidding?
    “And yes,” Tom continued. “This
was
supposed to be fun. So let’s see if we can’t find the time for that social event. Don’t forget to invite Lew Koehl. Let’s try to downplay the winning and losing thing. Starting right here and now.”
    Lindsey looked over at Jenk again. “I’m down with learning,” she said, even as she gazed pointedly at the spot where his rear was planted in that chair, making a tiny kicking motion with her foot.
    “Totally into improving,” he agreed, shooting her back a discreet L for loser, shaped with his thumb and forefinger, out of Tom’s line of sight.
    Lindsey couldn’t help it. She laughed, covering it quickly with a cough.
    Tom, of course, wasn’t fooled. He rubbed his forehead. “I’m serious, people. This is going to be…at best, difficult. Both for Commander Koehl and for me. I want you working together. Let’s turn this into a win for everyone.” He smiled tightly. “Except maybe Admiral Tucker.”
    “We should look at a calendar,” Jenk told Lindsey. “And exchange cell phone numbers.”
    Those words coming from those lips should have made her heart beat harder. Mark Jenkins wanted her phone number. He was cute and funny and smart—and tremendously flawed. He had, after all, the hots for the Hair-Do. And his