Free SEAL Team 666 by Weston Ochse Page A

Twitchy, but I don’t want you on the Stoner doing overwatch and have you shake, rattle, and roll when I need fire.” Laws frowned and clearly wasn’t happy with having to say it out loud.
    “There probably won’t be a next time,” Walker said softly. Then he added, “And don’t call me Twitchy.”
    Walker waited for someone to speak, but they were all staring at him. Finally he acquiesced. “Fine. Okay. Here’s what I know: Nothing. It never happened before. It was … fucking terrifying for a moment there. When I opened my eyes and saw you guys there, I was so damn happy.”
    “Billings believes that it’s the proximity to supernatural or evil that causes it to happen,” Holmes said. “What she was hoping for, what would be helpful, is if you can figure out a way to control it. It might happen again.”
    At it might happen again, Walker looked up. The very idea was a terrible one, not to mention it happening enough times that he’d actually learn to get used to it.
    “Where’d it come from?” Ruiz asked.
    “Ahh, that…” Walker rubbed his face, got up, and filled a glass with water. He drank it and refilled it again. This one he brought to the table and placed it in front of him. He stared at it as he told his story.
    “My father sold Navy supplies on the black market when he was stationed at Subic Bay. He pissed someone off. That someone turned out to be some sort of witch doctor.” He laughed hollowly. “Evidently the witch doctor was so pissed off at my father that he summoned a demon and sent it into me. Anyway, that’s what they told me because a lot of it is a blank spot in my memory. I remember some of it, but a lot more came back to me on the op.”
    Walker held his breath as he waited for their laughter, but there was only silence.
    Finally Holmes said, “Go on.”
    “Six months later, I woke up. I was told about some things. Memories pop up and I don’t know if they’re real or not. Most of the time they scare the shit out of me.”
    “You were possessed?” Ruiz asked.
    “Like Linda Blair but without the split-pea soup.”
    Fratty nodded and grinned. “That’s kind of cool.”
    Walker gave him an unbelieving look.
    “Ever tried to use that as a pickup line?” Fratty asked.
    Walker smiled weakly and shook his head. “Think it would work?”
    “Most definitely.” Fratty stood and mimicked picking up a girl, using Ruiz as the girl. “My name is Jack Walker. I’m a Virgo and a U.S. Navy SEAL. I like long walks on the beach, poetry by Keach, and, oh by the way, I was possessed when I was a kid.”
    “Can I have your baby?” Ruiz joked.
    They all laughed, and as they did, Walker began to feel better about it all. He wasn’t going to be called on the carpet for his actions, and it seemed he might even be accepted into the group.
    “It’s Keats, by the way,” Laws pointed out.
    “What?” Fratty didn’t get it.
    “Keach was the actor. Keats was the poet. ‘Can death be sleep, when life is but a dream?’”
    Walker stared in wonder. Was there anything that Laws didn’t know? It seemed like he had an answer for everything.
    Laws saw Walker’s expression and waved it off. “I have an audiographic memory. Whatever I hear, I remember.” He paused, then added, “It’s a curse.”

 
    12
    THE MOSH PIT. NIGHT.
    Ruiz led Walker out of the conference room and into the hangar proper for a tour of the Coronado Pest Control facilities, or as the SEALs referred to it, the Mosh Pit. The cavernous interior of the metal building had fifty-foot ceilings and ran half a football field long and wide. Offices ran along the left side as well as the conference room. Five suites along the back wall were designated as living quarters for the members of SEAL Team 666. Each suite had a bedroom, a media/sitting room, a bathroom, and a kitchenette. To the right of the hangar’s door were the armory and the equipment room. Entrance to the building was through a small foyer with a false wall