The motto of the Navy SEAL’s was ‘The Only Easy Day is Yesterday.'  Dex Evans had watched the members of Midnight Delta, a rival SEAL team, drop like flies as they fell in love. So, he and his buddies from Black Dawn had cooked up the idea of making a new motto for them.  They’d crossed out the normal team logo and inserted ‘Happily Ever After is Possible’ on a banner and hung it between two of their trucks so that it was waiting for them the day the naval carrier docked in San Diego.  An entire ship of sailors and SEALs had seen the damn thing that morning in the harbor. Two months later, and the men were still giving the Midnight Delta team a ration of shit. 

That prank had been a highlight that warmed Dex’s heart.

It least it had been until he had opened his personal e-mail in-box.

Dex sat back with his second beer and did what he’d been doing for the last four nights, politely telling persistent women, that his identity had been hacked and he hadn’t really reached out to them on the CaliSingles dating site.  Most of the women took it well, but out of the two hundred and twenty-eight women that he’d contacted so far, seventeen had been angry and bitter, and two had been downright scary.

He was almost done with this project, and ready to start plotting his revenge on the technical guru of Midnight Delta.  But he couldn’t quite seem to force himself to hit send on the last rejection e-mail.  He looked at the woman’s picture again.

She was cute. 

She had a hint of an overbite that was a real turn-on when you paired it with her long strawberry blonde hair.  But come on, he’d seen at least twenty women with more beautiful photos.  Still, there was something about this girl who called herself ‘SNMP.'

He’d laughed his ass off when he’d read what she’d written.  None of the others made him almost spit up his beer.

He re-read her introductory letter.

Hello SailorBoy69,

SNMP stands for So Not Mary Poppins.  Take it to heart.  My photo is me, but it’s pretty much a fake since it took me two hours and twenty dollars worth of product to achieve the look.  If we were to meet in person, I probably wouldn’t look anywhere close to this, soak in this picture.  Actually, don’t worry, we won’t meet, but I’ll get to that.

Here’s me in a nutshell.  I live in the good part of town because I work my ass off handling my full-time job as a nurse, plus a part-time gig. I do this so my son can go to school in a decent school district.  Being a good mother is the single most important thing in my life, I have no earthly idea why I’m responding to your profile since I don’t have time to date.  Did I mention I have a kid, two jobs and really don’t look like this?

I like the fact that you’re serving our country.  That’s part of the reason I’m reaching out to you.  But the real reason I’m writing is that I’m ninety-nine-point nine percent sure you won’t respond, so this is a safe letter to write.  I can feel good that I’ve finally put myself out there, without enduring the humiliation of a first date, which I’ll fail at because I’ll never in a million years figure out how to reach this level of pretty again. 

But in all seriousness, I wanted to take aim for a good guy, and you’re it.  I like the fact you’re in the Navy.  I like the fact that you work with disenfranchised kids.  I think you’re a nice man.  Hell, I don’t even care if that’s not your real picture because responsible men do it for me.  Of course, in my world they’re like mythical unicorns, they just don’t exist, at least not for me.  But the dream of a responsible man makes my panties damp.  See I can say this safely, ‘cause you’re not going to respond, and I’m never going to meet you.

So, that’s my story, SailorBoy69.  Just know that out there in this big bad world a woman thinks you’re pretty exceptional, except for the atrocious cyber name you’ve given yourself.  Now, if you have a thought of responding, for God’s sake don’t.  Remember, it’s me.  I have a kid, two jobs, and I’ll look like crap, and you’ll ruin the fantasy.

―  Signed, So Not Mary Poppins

Dex considered his problem.  It wasn’t just that he wanted to respond to the woman, it was the fact that she was responding to someone who wasn’t him.  He, Dexter Anthony Evans, had not created this profile.

“Yeah, but it’s you,” he admonished himself.  Clint had done an exceptional job writing up his online resume.  He’d even found a formal picture of him in his dress whites that was fairly recent.  Dex shouldn’t be surprised that Clint had every detail right about him, after all, if Dex wanted to spend eight hours, he could compile an equally comprehensive profile on Clint Archer.  The only fake thing had been the initial e-mail to Mary Poppins. 

He took another swallow of his Dos Equis beer and really thought it through.  He hadn’t felt this punch of interest in years.  Even if it had started out as a joke, he had to follow through.  Now he had to figure out a way to keep her from going into hiding when he responded.  Because let’s face it, his response was going to panic the hell out of her. 

Dex paced the length of his living room.  He was going to have to use finesse.  His e-mail would need just the right tone, so she didn’t run and hide. She was definitely a runner, he grinned.  It was his job to coax her out to play. He wanted to get her to agree to meet in person, and these first few back and forths were the way to make it happen.  This was going to be fun. 

Dinner was four hours ago, he needed some brain food before he started his composition.  It needed to be funny, he knew that.  He could be funny, but seriously, she took the cake.  He perused the contents of his fridge.  Yogurt and fresh cherries would be the smart way to go because tomorrow was a training day and he’d just had two beers, but the left over Chinese food was calling his name.

His phone rang as he was snatching the white carton of beef lo mein out of the fridge.

“Evans,” he answered.

“We’ve got a live one,” he heard his lieutenant say.  “How soon can you report?”

Dex lived in a townhome thirty miles from the base. 

“I’m at home,” he told Gray.  “It all depends on how traffic is on the Five.” 

“We’ll be wheels up as soon as the team gets here.  Let’s hope the freeway gods are smiling tonight.” 

The line went dead.  Dex turned off his laptop, then swung to his bedroom and pulled out the duffel he kept packed at all times.  He toed out of his sandals and tugged on socks and boots.  When he went back to the living room, he snagged his laptop and tucked it into the vinyl laptop sleeve and shoved that into the duffel bag and then grabbed his phone, keys, and wallet and headed for the door.

When he got into his jeep, he made a call to his grandfather.

“Dexter, my boy.  It’s late on a Friday night, shouldn’t you be out on a date?  After all, you have hundreds of women to choose from.”

He laughed.  “Thanks for the reminder.  I’m so going to get Clint for this.”

“According to your grandmother, he did you a favor.  She’s been wanting great-grandbabies for a couple of years now.”

“That’s news to me.  I would have thought all those summers having me foisted on you was enough.”

“You and your brother were back east when you were really young.  She says she didn’t get a proper grandbaby fix.  You’re her hope, and you’ve been letting her down.”

Dex snorted.  But it got him thinking.  His grandmother was really nurturing, he could see where she would want a great-grandchild.

“Are you listening to me?” his grandfather asked.

“What?” Dex asked as he pulled onto the freeway.

“I asked if you were done going through all the e-mails.”

“Got just one to go.  But right now, I’m headed outta town for a bit.”

“Sounded like you were on the road, Kiddo.”

Dex grinned again.  It killed him that at six-foot-three and two hundred and twenty pounds, he could be called Kiddo.  “You guessed it.”

“Sorry to hear you’re going to miss our tee time on Sunday. I went to the driving range today.  I was killing it.  You were going to lose money.”

“What are you talking about? I always lose money.  Old Man, you’re a hustler.”  He was too.  The man had somehow manipulated his handicap so he could consistently shoot below it.  The two of them would bet a couple of bucks a hole, and Dex would end up owing a ton by the end of the day. 

“I promise to teach you all of my secrets before I die,” his grandfather’s voice promised through the jeep’s speaker.

“Bullshit, I want to know your secrets now so I can beat your ass,” Dex said without heat.

Martin Evans laughed.  “Not going to happen Kiddo.  Are you headed to the base?” 

“Got it in one,” Dex affirmed.

Martin was retired Navy, he’d been stationed all over the world, but his last assignment had been at the 32^nd Street Naval Station in San Diego.  He was a retired master chief petty officer.  In Dex’s opinion, nothing could be better than following in his grandfather’s footsteps.

“You going wheel’s up?”

“Yep.”

“I’ll have Andrea take care of your plants.  They should just be coming back to life about the time you come back.” 

That was no lie.  His young cousin had a green thumb.

“Thanks, Gramps.  Give my love to Gram.”

“Always.  Be safe.”

“You know it.”

***

Lieutenant Grayson Tyler looked grim, which wasn’t normal.  Even before the most trying assignments, he would be calm and easy when talking to the six men on his SEAL team.  If Dexter had to guess, his demeanor had to do with the two men in suits standing near Captain Hale in the back of the briefing room.

“We’re heading to Alexandria, Egypt.  The situation is fluid,” Gray told his men.

Aiden O’Malley, the second in command, caught Dex’s eye.  Fluid was code for fucked up.

“The American ambassador’s daughter, son-in-law, and two small children are missing,” Gray continued.  “The Anders’ family was boating in the Mediterranean.  The yacht they were on was found abandoned, except for the bodies of the four marines who had been assigned to guard them.  The abandoned yacht with the dead bodies was found five hours ago, and we were informed two hours ago.  The head of Egypt’s special forces has taken point on this.  Our role is an advisory capacity only.”

Dex felt his teammates tense up.  No wonder Gray looked grim.  Shit, he must be pissed.  Marines were dead, and they were sending them in as advisors?  What kind of happy horseshit was this?

“Any ransom demands?  Anybody taking credit for their disappearance?” Aiden asked.

“No.  But terrorist threats have been significant in that region, which is why they had the marines with them,” Gray answered.

“Are you telling me that no bad guys were killed and found on the yacht, and there were four marines?” Dex asked.

Gray turned to the suits, and they shook their heads.  Gray turned to the team.  “According to 777,” he said referring to Egypt’s special forces, “there were no bodies other than the marines and a couple of crew members.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Dalton Leeds said.  All the SEALs nodded.

“The American Military police are expected to have gone over the yacht by the time we get there.  They’ll determine if there were tangos whose bodies were taken off the yacht.”

Dex knew immediately that having the MP’s playing in the sandbox along with the 777 was what helped make the mission ‘fluid.’

Captain Hale stepped forward and stood next to Gray.  “Men, I know I can count on you and your lieutenant to do the right thing.”

Gray gave the team an imperceptible nod.

Dex and the others got it.  These were Americans who were likely held by terrorists. They were going to be rescued by SEALs.  To hell with the advisory role.  It was just a matter of finding out where they were located.

Gray looked at his team.  “Gentlemen, wheels up in ten.”

He went to go talk to the captain and the suits.

***

They were fifty-five minutes from touching down at the newly minted Mohammed Naguib Military Base west of Alexandria when Dex called Aiden and Gray over to him.  He had his computer up. 

“We’ve got a major curve ball,” Dex told his commander.

“Spill it.”

He pointed to a picture of a jeweled dagger on his computer screen.  “Stolen Egyptian artifacts.  This one from Cairo’s Museum of Antiquities.” 

“What about it?” Aiden asked.

“There’s currently an on-line auction for it.  It’s up to three-hundred and fifty thousand USD.  Considering the fact that it is supposed to be on tour in Asia at the moment, that’s pretty significant.”

“Go on,” Gray said.

“CIA has been tracing all incoming and outgoing e-mails to the US embassy in Cairo.  They found a fishy one that led to this auction.  It came from Anders’ computer,” Dex said, referring to the ambassador’s son-in-law who had been on the yacht.

“That’s more than significant.  That gives us one more reason why the family could be missing,” Aiden said.

“This could be an inside job,” Gray agreed.

It made Dex sick to his stomach to think that the marines could have been killed by the very people they had been sent to guard.  But...

“Why would he abandon everything?  He has a pretty sweet deal just selling off artifacts and living a life that allows him to vacation on yachts?”  Dex asked.

“Still has to live with his father-in-law” Aiden pointed out.

“Have they passed this information onto the US Army Military Police?” Gray questioned.

“Yes.  They’re watching the auction.  They want to see how the money would be paid out, and then they can track him.”

Aiden and Gray nodded their heads.

The plane began its descent and went back to their seats.  Dex continued to monitor his computer for as long as he could.  By the time they set down, Washington DC had sent Dex and the MPs rundowns on the three main e-mail contacts of Anders. 

“Shit,” Dex muttered.  Anders was in deep.

He closed his computer and followed the others off the plane.  The heat hit him hard as he disembarked.

“I wanted to work on my tan.” Wyatt Leeds grinned.

Dex saw Hunter roll his eyes a second before he donned his sunglasses.  The tarmac wavered in front of him from the heat roiling off the ground. 

“Welcome,” a man in an Egyptian uniform said formally to Dex and the others.  “We have quarters set up for you.”

“I was told that Captain Adams would be here,” Gray said referring to the head MP handling the investigation.

“He’s been detained.  I am Major Mohammed Farouk.  I will be coordinating your stay here on base.”

“Thank you,” Gray said with a nod.  “These are my men.  This is my second-in-command Senior Chief Aiden O’Malley.  Then you have Dalton Sullivan, Wyatt Leeds, Griffin Porter, Hunter Diaz and my computer specialist, Dexter Evans.”

The major acknowledged them with a stiff nod, then pointed to a truck.  They loaded up and were soon in front of a building that had been recently built.  The base had just officially opened and was considered to be the gem of the Middle East.  He grinned when they got inside, it did his heart good to know that a barracks was a barracks, even if it was supposed to be a jewel.

“You’ve arrived in time for our midday meal.  It will be in a half hour,” the major informed Gray.  “My man will come and escort you to the dining hall in twenty minutes.”  He turned and left.

“Get situated.  I’m going to see what’s keeping Adams and maybe we can have some answers by the time we’ve eaten,” Gray told them.

Dex dumped his shit on one of the bunks and immediately pulled out his laptop.  “Lieutenant,” he called Gray over.  “I need to show you some intel that came in right before we landed.”

Aiden followed Gray over to Dex’s bunk.  “Whatchya got?” Gray asked.

“Anders has actually been playing footsy with Taruk El Mahdy, along with two big time collectors.”

“El Mahdy?  Is he out of his goddamn mind?” Aiden demanded.  “He’s number three on the US terrorist watch list!”

“It’s not El Mahdy directly, it’s his cousin out of Tangiers. According to the guys at Langley, there is no doubt that he’s a conduit to El Mahdy.  Everything has been encrypted. They’re working on getting the e-mail content, but they don’t know when they’ll get it decrypted.”

“And the collectors?” Gray asked.

“One’s out of London, the other’s out of Hong Kong.  The encryption on their e-mails have been easy to break.  They found out that Anders has been selling artifacts for damn near the entire four years his father-in-law, Ambassador Letterman, has been stationed in Egypt.”

Dex wasn’t surprised to see the looks of disgust on Aiden and Gray’s faces.  It was the same thing he was feeling.  Asshole had a fan-fucking-tastic life with a beautiful wife and two daughters and was a greedy, grasping bastard who was risking the lives of his family.  Plus, he was getting into bed with one of the evilest assholes in the world.  The whole thing made Dex want to punch a wall.

“Dex, did you hear me?”

“What?”  He needed to keep his shit sorted.

“I asked if they’ve found any connection to the ambassador.”

“Nada so far, but they’re continuing to look,” Dex answered.

“Gray!” Hunter called from near the entrance of the barracks.  Their heads turned and saw that one of the Egyptian soldiers had arrived.  He was standing at attention. 

“Come on everyone.  Time to eat,” Gray called out.

***

Captain Adams arrived ten minutes after they returned to the barracks.  He was one of those wiry men who seemed to vibrate with energy.  His gaze missed nothing during the introductions, and he zeroed in on Dex.

“Did you get the intel from DC?” he demanded immediately.

“Yep, I briefed my lieutenant and second-in-command.”

“My guy tried to tell me what was going on when I was driving here, but he kept cutting out.  I think I got the gist, and if I did, it changes everything.  Let’s go over it, and I’ll tell you what I found out from my inspection of the yacht.  It wasn’t good.”

Dex laid out everything the suits in Washington, DC had given him.  Then it was Adams’ turn to share.

“Two of the marines were shot point blank in the interior family area.  They didn’t have their weapons drawn.  It’s my assessment they were the first two assassinated.  The third marine, Sergeant Keith was up on the bridge when things went south.  Blood splatter showed that he was coming down the stairs when he was shot in the head.  Last, Corporal Hernandez was below deck.  His weapon was drawn as well, no shots.  His body landed on top of an interrupted fucking game of fucking Candyland.”  With every word, his voice rose.

Nobody said anything for long moments.  Finally, Griffin Porter asked, “how old are the daughters?”

“Four and five,” Dexter answered.

Again silence.

“The crew?” Gray asked.

“According to the manifest, there should have been five men besides the captain.  He’s nowhere to be found.  Two of the crew were found in the engine room with bullets in their brains, the rest are gone.”

“So, this was definitely an inside job,” Adams stated.

“Weren’t there security cameras?” Dex asked.

“All of the footage has been pulled.”

“That clinches it.  It was an inside job,” Gray said.

“Are you telling me that Anders allowed a man to be shot and bleed out in front of his daughters?” Gray said slowly and quietly.

“Everything points to this being an inside job.  I hope to God that a father would have protected his girls, but I don’t think he did,” Adams answered.

The rage Dex had felt before that Anders would risk his wife and daughters to sell antiquities morphed into something he could barely contain.  He pictured Hernandez sitting cross-legged playing the children’s game with the two little girls and then blood spraying, and the girls screaming.

“Is he doing this supposed kidnapping with or without El Mahdy’s help?” Aiden asked Adams.

“He couldn’t have pulled this off without El Mahdy.  The terrorist isn’t a bidder, he’s a supplier.”  The Captain’s eyes glittered with anger.  “Anders is acting as a middle man for El Mahdy.”

Dex nodded.  The captain was right, it made perfect sense.

“Now we just have to do the investigating to prove it,” Adams said.  “To me, this looks more like an investigation than a SEAL team operation at this point.”

“Until we get called home, we’re staying,” Gray said quietly.  All his men’s heads nodded in agreement.

Adams eventually nodded.  It was clear he wasn’t pleased, but he was going to deal with it.