Mackenzie's Pleasure Read Online Free PDF

he
    wouldn't be able to stay in the Navy without it. On a mission, all his senses became more
    acute, even as a deep center of calm radiated outward. The more intense the action, the
    calmer he became, as time stretched out into slow motion. At those times he could see and hear
    every detail, analyze and predict the outcome, then make his decision and act—all within a
    split second that felt like minutes. Adrenaline would flood his body—he would feel the blood
    racing through his veins—but his mind would remain detached and calm. He had been told that
    the look on his face during those times was frighteningly remote, jarring in its total lack of
    expression.
    The team moved forward in well-orchestrated silence. They each knew what to do,
    and what the others would do. That was the purpose of the trust and teamwork that had been
    drilled into them through the twenty-six weeks of hell that was formally known as BUD/S
    training. The bond between them enabled them to do more together than could be
    accomplished if each worked on his own. Teamwork wasn't just a word to the SEALs, it was
    their center.
    Spooky Jones was point man. Zane preferred using the wiry Southerner for that job
    because he had unfrayable nerves and could ghost around like a lynx. Bunny With-rock,
    who almost reverberated with nervous energy, was bringing up the rear. No one sneaked up
    on Bunny—except the Spook. Zane was right behind Jones, with Drexler, Greenberg and
    Santos ranging between him and Bunny. Greenberg was quiet, steady, totally dependable.
    Drexler was uncanny with that rifle, and Santos, besides being a damn good SEAL, also had
    the skill to patch them up and keep them going, if they were patchable. Overall, Zane had
    never worked with a better group of men.
    Their presence in Benghazi was pure luck, and Zane knew it. Good luck for them and,
    he hoped, for Miss Lovejoy, but bad luck for the terrorists who had snatched her off the street in
    Athens fifteen hours ago. If the Montgomery hadn't been just south of Crete and in perfect
    position for launching a rescue, if the SEALs hadn't been on the carrier to practice special
    insertions as well as the security exercise, then there would have been a delay of precious hours,
    perhaps even as long as a day, while another team got supplied and into position. As it was, the
    special insertion into hostile territory they had just accomplished had been the real thing instead
    of just a practice.
    Miss Lovejoy was not only the ambassador's daughter, she was an employee at the
    embassy, as well. The ambassador was apparently very strict and obsessive about his
    daughter, having lost his wife and son in a terrorist attack in Rome fifteen years before, when Miss
    Lovejoy had been a child of ten. After that, he had kept her secluded in private schools, and
    since she bad finished college, she had been acting as his hostess as well as performing her
    "work" at the embassy. Zane suspected her job was more window dressing than anything
    else, something to keep her busy. She had never really worked a day in her life, never been out
    from under her father's protection—until today.
    She and a friend had left the embassy to do some shopping. Three men had grabbed her,
    shoved her into a car and driven off. The friend had immediately reported the abduction.
    Despite efforts to secure the airport and ports—cynically, Zane suspected deliberate footdragging by the Greek authorities—a private plane had taken off from Athens and flown
    straight to Benghazi.
    Thanks to the friend's prompt action, sources on the ground in Benghazi had been
    alerted. It had been verified that a young woman of Miss Lovejoy's description had been taken
    off the plane and hustled into the city, into the very building Zane and his team were about to enter.
    Ithad to be her; there weren't that many red-haired Western women in Benghazi. In
    fact, he would bet there was only one—Barrie Lovejoy.
    They were betting her life on