Free Nashville SEAL: Jameson: Nashville SEALs by Sharon Hamilton Page B

The ladies with claws from those with nice loving hands and smooth lips. And I didn’t have to see them nekked to determine that.”
    Collins had himself a laugh that wouldn’t quit until he got one of his coughing spells.
    “You okay, sir?”
    “Can you give me another ten years cancer free, son?”
    “Sorry about that, sir.”
    “Sorry about what? I didn’t tell you nothin’.”
    “Roger that.”
    Collins sat back and perused Jameson one more time. “You sure? You had a nice life. Pretty good guitar player from what I hear. You tell me you never miss it?”
    “Ask me that in ten years. It’s too soon, only been less than two years since I gave all that up.”
    “No old girlfriends chasing you across country?”
    “All the girls worth having would never chase, Sir. You know that, don’t you?”
    Collins got that far away look. “Yes, I do.”
    Jameson knew the talk was over. Collins would be preparing a readiness report for the head shed. Everyone knew that was the real purpose in checking in.
    “Thank you, sir.” He knew Kyle’s guys never saluted unless they had to. He stretched out his palm and Collins gave it a tug, and then pushed him away. At the doorway, Jameson heard the Chief add a comment.
    “You met Zak, of course?”
    “Yessir,” he said as he turned around, wondering what this was about.
    Collins tapped his eye. “First deployment. You be careful now. Don’t do anything stupid.”
    “Roger that. Although, if it’s all the same, I have to tell you Zak is quite satisfied being the pirate and living the winery lifestyle with Amy. He traded his Trident in for a patch.”
    “That’s where you’re wrong, son.” Collins adjusted his belt, pulling it up over his enlarged belly, which had already grown an inch since Jameson came on the Team. “He’s still got the Trident. He’ll still serve, if he’s called. Just ask Alex. The guy can shoot one-eyed with his non-dominant side better than most championship shooters. You remember that. He trains every day, I hear. He might be detached, but he’s still a SEAL, and if called on, he’ll do his duty. You all will. No matter the age, or the disability. Just ask the old guys around here.”
    “Thank you, sir, for the reminder. And my lovely bride and daughter thank you too.” He pivoted out the doorway and down the vinyl tiled hall. He hadn’t been nervous before, but this talk with Collins had him shook.
    Elvis was singing in the background.
    “Shut the fuck up,” he whispered to the King.
    Elvis complied.

Chapter 10
    ‡
    J ameson was sent to Reno for some desert training, along with the rest of Kyle’s squad. They trained with a drone contractor who brought some new versions, which were smaller and quieter than the older ones some of the SEALs were proficient using. Some of these new ones were not only good for surveillance, but could drop a small bomb or diversionary explosive device if necessary.
    Coop was all over the new minidrone that could fit in the palm of his hand. Jameson halfway expected the big SEAL medic would try to steal it, as it would be easy enough to just slip the thing in his pocket.
    Controller units were flatter and more responsive, but the size of the screens and the keyboards remained the same for ease of use in the field.
    They also practiced with their upgraded .50 Cal guns mounted on the backs of customized Hummers that could travel close to one hundred miles an hour. They were required to hit moving targets as the Hummer traveled obstacle courses, weaving from right to left and stopping on a dime. Jameson had trained on these before, but this weekend they used more ammunition than most Marine platoons used in six months.
    Next they headed for Alaska. Jameson barely had chances to call Lizzie. And if Charlotte was awake, she monopolized the call. Lizzie was patient. They texted frequently.
    They returned home for their last ten days before deployment. Lizzie planned a trip to Sonoma County with Charlotte