Chapter Nineteen : Bad Things
Theresa was pulled out of a nice, deep slumber by her phone ringing. The thought of ignoring it and going back to sleep never crossed her mind because the only people who had her number were her family, so it had to be important. She shoved her hand out of her comfy blankets, whining softly when the cold night air hit her bare arm, and slapped her palm around on her bedside table until she found her blaring phone.
She looked at the I.D caller and was immediately wide awake as she swiped to answer the call. Her voice was full of sleep and scratchy from disuse when she answer with a slightly alarmed, "Brock? What's wrong?"
"Hey, Tessa. Sorry, nothing's wrong. I just . . .wanted to talk. Sorry, were you sleeping?" Brock's voice came through, trying to go for nonchalant but failing epically because Theresa could easily tell by his tone that something was wrong.
"Sleeping? No, of course no, why would I be doing a mere mortal thing like that?" Theresa questioned sarcastically, stifling a yawn as she threw her covers off, slid her feet into her slippers with miniature stuffed cows on them. It was a present from Emma last Christmas.
"Ah, right of course." Brock replied with a chuckle that sounded strained and a little forced. Theresa's worry inched up another notch as she caught it, shuffling to her kitchen.
"B, come on, talk to me. I can't help if I don't know what's going on." Theresa told him gently, using his own words from weeks ago against him. She looked at the clock on her microwave as she leaned against her counter, 4:52, and her worry grew. Brock has never, in three years, called her up this early.
It was quiet again, but Theresa waited, knowing Brock wouldn't just hang up the phone. He was to polite and gentlemanly for that. Eventually, he spoke but it wasn't what Theresa thought it would be. "Do you know a place where I can blow of some steam? I don't want to go to the base, not yet."
"Yeah," She nodded to herself as she have him the address and pushed up from her counter. "You want some company?"
"Please."
Thirty minutes later, because she had to take a detour because of an accident, Theresa walked through the doors of Randy's wearing leggings, a sleeveless t-shirt and a pair of Nike trainers.
Randy's is a boxing gym she's been coming to since she was 16 and angry at everyone and the world. Randy, the owner, was an old Navy buddy of Jason's and a good person, from what she could tell. The gym was medium sized, a large ring in the middle with work out equipment, sandbags and training mats all around it.
Randy opened every week morning at 5AM, so policeman and other first responders who just got off from a hard shift or who wanted to get a quick workout before an early shift could come have at it. With a Navy base nearby, there was a few frogmen who came here, but most of them used the gym on the base. Retired Navy and even Army men and women was more likely to come here.
All in all, it was a friendly neighborhood gym, even some kids frequented here.
She's spent hours in this place, punching her anger and frustration out on the poor sandbags. Her eyes flashed around the room out of occupational habit, stopping for a moment when they landed on her best friend, who was quite literally hitting the shit out of it, furiously and efficiently. Theresa saw a few guys glancing at Brock warily and smirked. Quiet as her best friend was, didn't that make him any less dangerous than Theresa herself.
"Hey Four!" A familiar voice called and Brock's head swiveled to where she stood in the doorway. She nodded at him before turning to Randy with a slight grin.
"Randy, good to see you. Been a while, huh?" She took the hand he offered and shook it.
"Sure has." Randy nodded, eyes crinkling as he smiled widely at her. "You still good?"
"Yeah, all good. You?"
"Complaining won't help, not that there's currently anything to complain about." Randy chuckled a bit, then looked over to where Brock was giving the sandbag a beat down. "He belong to you?"
"No," Theresa snorted, used to the question by now. "But he's a friend. A really good one." She shrugged, and then something flashed in her mind. "Hey, couple weeks back I sent this really small woman here, name's Amelia. Anyway, did she ever show up?"
"Oh, yeah, Amy. Good woman, that one." Randy's cheek flushed ever so slightly as he talked about her and Theresa smirked but didn't comment. "I was surprised when she mentioned you."
"Take good care of her for me, will you?" Theresa requested, silently pleased that the woman took her advice.
"She in some kind of trouble?" Randy asked with a spark of concern in his eyes.
Theresa shook her head, "No. At least I don't think so anymore, but I didn't send her here for the view either."
"I'll keep an eye on her." Randy promised.
"Thanks." Theresa gave him a smile and remembered her best friend. "Well, I should go and see what's bothering him." She jabbed a finger over her shoulder to her best friend.
Randy nodded with a bright smile, "Sure, sure."
Theresa tilted her head at him, "Hey Randy, you mind if we fight outside the ring?"
"Nah, just don't hurt anyone." He waved her off. "It was good seeing you again, Four. Say hi to Jason for me."
"You too, and I will." With one last smile and nod, she turned around and walked over to Brock. She kicked of her trainers not to far away before proceeding to tackle her best friend to the ground.
The reaction was immediately, and when he immediately went on the offensive rather than defensive, she knew something big was bugging him. He was quick and brutal, but never hit her, not wanting to physically hurt her, and Theresa was the same.
They both wanted the same thing - to get the other down without hurting each other. It could be done, has been done, and Theresa wondered would win. Whenever she and Brock sparred hand-to-hand, neither aimed to actually hurt the other, just to improve their already impeccable skills.
If she was angry or fired up like Brock, she would have won, no question, but she wasn't and he was, which gave him an edge. If you knew how to channel your emotions and use them to your benefit instead of letting them control you, they could go a long way into helping you.
Both were distracted; Brock by whatever was bothering him and Theresa by her whole having-a-panic-attack-because-I-thought-Clay-died-then-hugging-him-and-figuring-out-I-like-him-in-a-romantic-way thing, so it was really a toss up to who would win.
Finally, Brock threw Theresa over his shoulder, turned her on her stomach and grabbed her hand, twisting them up her back uncomfortably but not painfully, sitting on her lower back.
"Ooof." Theresa groaned as Brock's weight settled on her. She kicked her legs up, lightly hitting him. "You win. Get off you heavy ass." She said, but her voice came out mumbled, cheek squished against the floor and it sounded more like, "U in...et of..u he'fy 'ss."
Brock grinned, "I'm sorry what's that?"
Theresa grunted before twisting her hands and pulling them free, she then used one hand to push herself up and the other to push at her best friend and knock him off balance, causing him to topple sideways. With her lower body freed from his weight she pulled her legs up and moved until she was on top of him, elbow to his throat. "I said: you're a loser."
Her triumphant grin faded when she noticed the blank look on his face. She frowned and got off him, sitting cross-legged next to his head. She tapped with her index finger on his temple. "B, you're starting to worry me. Use your words, come on."
Brock heaved a deep, heavy sigh. "Elena and I had a fight."
Theresa's brows went up at that. Brock and Elena are not the type to fight. In the time she's been friends with him, the two has only argued, but never outright fought with each other. She made sure to keep her voice gently as she asked, "About?"
Brock's face fell and Theresa knew that this was bad. Really bad. "Elena doesn't want to have kids."
Theresa winced. It was well known amongst Bravo as extended family that Brock loved kids and wants his own someday. "Like now or ever?"
"Ever."
"Did she say why?" Theresa didn't understand it. Elena is kind and soft, but no push over with a Navy Seal for a husband. She would be the perfect mother. Theresa's always thought so.
Brock's jaw clenched, fists clenching by his side. "Because she doesn't want our kids to grow up without a father if something happens to me."
"Okay, first of all, that is totally not fair on you. Weren't you in Green when you met? She knew who you were right from the start." Theresa scoffed. As much as she cares for Elena, she loves her best friend a whole lot more and would always pick his side. "Second of all, that doesn't mean she doesn't want kids. It just means she's afraid of having to raise them without you."
"So, what do I do?" Brock absolutely did not whine. He is a manly man. A Tier One Operator. He doesn't whine. (If you asked one Theresa Kane, on the other had, hell yes, he totally whined.)
"I don't know, B. She's your wife." Theresa gave a sympathetic shrug.
"But you're a woman. What would you do?" Brock retorted, sitting up and mirroring her cross-legged position, eyes desperate.
"How the fuck should I know? Also, you might not have noticed, but I'm a Seal, just like you." She deadpanned giving him a pointed look.
Brock tilted his head at her, "I can't believe I've never asked you this before, but do you want kids? Ever?"
"I honestly don't know." Theresa shrugged. "One part of me says: no. I don't want to give up my career, I don't want to leave all of this behind. Children are expensive, loud and a lifetime of work." Her nose pulled up in distaste as she thought about it, pulling her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. Then something so incredibly soft bloomed in her eyes, something Brock has never seen before. "But the other part of me? That part screams yes. I want to know what it feels like to have another human being grow inside of me, what it feels like to have a child to call my own, someone that I'd not only die for, but live for too."
"Someone to live for?" Brock furrowed his brows at her words.
Theresa shrugged, "Dying is easy. We only have to do it once. And I know people say you only live once, but for me that's bullshit. Living, it's-" She cut herself of, sighing heavily. "We gotta do that shit everyday and it's hard sometimes."
Later that morning, Theresa was sitting with the rest of her team at their regular table, listening to Adam talk to the Greenies about Brian's death. It's been two days since them - two days since her epic realisation of liking Clay Spenser - and they were now talking about when the service will be held, notifying the family and so forth.
"The kid does two tours in Trashkanistan, and not a damn scratch. At home, he burns in a faulty chute." Sonny gives a bitter laugh at his own statement. "Damn the breaks." Privately, Theresa agreed.
"You see Spenser?" At Ray's question, Theresa couldn't help but be glad for the excuse to turn and look at the blonde. He still looked about as well expected after seeing his best friend die right in front of him, and Theresa really didn't know how to help him. More hugging didn't seem like a solution - no matter how much Theresa may have liked being wrapped up in Spenser's arms. Which made her feel a little guilty because she did it for his comfort, not for her own selfish reasons. "Apparently he was real tight with the Armstrong kid."
"Part of his education." Jason said and Theresa's head snapped around to Jason, mouth open as she gaped at him.
"That's cold brother even for you." Ray couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"No, it's not. This kid falls apart everytime he loses a buddy, he's in the wrong line of work. Should we just wait until he loses a buddy in combat and see how he handles that?" Jason asked, raising a brow at Ray.
"What the fuck, Jason?" And the Master Chief knew right then and there Theresa was pissed at him. Rarely was he called Jason by her. She gave him a heated glare. "He lost his best friend. Hell, if I lost Brock, I'd fall apart so bad you'd probably never be able to stick me back together again."
Jason tried to back peddle, a little caught off guard by the fierce way Theresa was defending the kid. He knows that Brock said Theresa likes Spenser, but he didn't think she likes him enough to defend him like this. After all, she is slow to open up and liking people. The fastest he's ever seen her take to someone was Brock. "I'm just saying, he needs to be able to accept the reality."
"Right, like when we lost Nate and you accepted it?" Theresa snapped back, the words out of her mouth before she could stop them. Jason reared back, like she had slapped him in the face but she wasn't backing down, not from this. It was unfair for Jason to judge Spenser for grieving when he did the exact same thing not to long ago. As a matter of fact, he was still grieving.
Bravo didn't know what to do, looking between their leader and their youngest, who was staring each other down. Neither of them backing down. Finally, Jason lowered his eyes, not saying anything.
Theresa scoffed and looked back down at her almost empty tray, the silence around the table almost uncomfortable. Just as she was about to start eating again, her phone buzzed and dinged against her thigh. She frowned but pulled it out to look at the notification anyway. Her frowned deepened when she read the message.
Jason, who saw everything on her face, immediately wanted to ask what it was as his concern spiked. He already regretted this stupid argument thing between them. But since he didn't know if Theresa was in the mood to speak to him, he just looked at Brock, gesturing pointedly at Theresa.
Brock barely refrained from rolling his eyes as he poked his best friend in the shoulder. "You good?"
"Yeah, fine. Eric wants to see me in his office, ASAP." Theresa frowned, mind racing as she thought about what it might be about. She hasn't done anything wrong as far as she remembers, her AAR's were all up to date and handed in, she hasn't punched anyone since Syria, so she couldn't figure out what would warrant an immediate face-to-face with Eric like this. Well, she wasn't really worried because she has been a model Navy woman the last while.
Sonny frowned, looking right at her. "Why?"
"Don't know." Theresa shrugged, shoving her phone back in to her pants pocket. "Better of find out." She pulled a face at her team before rising from her seat, picking up her tray as she went. She disposed of her tray and then made her way to Eric's office, not wanting the man to wait because he rarely asked for her presence like this. There, she knocked, waiting until she heard a 'enter'.
"Whatever it was, I didn't do it." Theresa claimed as she opened the door dramatically, a childish grin on her face.
Inside Eric's office, Blackburn was standing behind his desk, Adam Siever was standing near him, while Spenser was standing in front of the two men with his hands clasped behind his back in respect. All of their eyes snapped to Theresa as she entered the surprisingly large office.
Theresa froze in the doorway, the grin sliding off her face. She was officially confused. What the hell was going on? And how did Spenser and Adam get here so quickly? When she left the cafeteria, they were still there. The shortcut around back came to mind and that question was solved, but that didn't explain what they were doing here? She quickly remembered herself, entering the office and closing the door behind her. Her brows dipped in confusion and a bit of concern. "Uh, Eric, is everything alright?"
The Commander looked a little uncomfortable, but pushed through with it. "Everything's fine, Tessa, I just need to ask you a question."
"Okay?" Theresa drawled out questioningly, looking at Spenser as she walked up to his side, mirroring his respectful stance, clasping her hands behind her back. She didn't understand. What did he have to do with whatever this is?
"There has been a complaint that you are giving special attention to one member of Green team." Eric said, still looking uncomfortable. It only worsened when Theresa suddenly tensed, eyes narrowed. He could see how her defensive hackles rose.
"What exactly is your question?" Theresa asked, voice colder than it's been in a long time when she addressed him. She did not like where this conversation was heading.
This time, Eric visibly hesitated. Still, he had to ask. "Tessa, I hate to ask but I need to. Are you sleeping with Clay Spenser?"
Theresa's mouth fell open, body going lax from shock. She would have fallen to her knees, if it wasn't for the sudden fire that roared in her heart and spread through her body.
"No, we're not. I've never touched Lieutenant Commander Kane like that." Spenser immediately answered, cheeks flushed a deep red.
"Excuse me?" Theresa asked, voice low and cold, body faintly starting to tremble.
"Theresa, I understand that this is a little uncomfortable-" Adam started only to be cut of by the female Seal.
"No, this isn't uncomfortable. It's insulting." Theresa snarled harshly, a look of complete and utter fury on her face, her fists clenched tightly by her sides as her trembling worsened. Eric's eyes widened. He doesn't think he's ever seen her this angry. "Since the moment I entered Green, I've never slept with anyone here. And even after I completed my training, when I was put on Bravo, I've never slept with anyone on this base up until this day."
She turned her gaze to Blackburn - it screamed hurt and accusation. "You know I haven't. And now, because someone out there is jealous that Spenser is better than almost everyone on Green and because we ate together - only twice, I might add - you're asking me if we're sleeping together and basically questioning my integrity?" She gave a huff of disbelief, eyes strangely burning, as all three men stared at her in shock. "Nice to know what you think of me. And to answer your question: no. I'm not fucking Clay Spenser."
Then Theresa turned around and walked out of the office, slamming the door shut as she did so.
"Bad things come in three, right?" Theresa asked no one in particular, sulky and pouty as she laid on her arms in the war room, sitting way in the back, next to Brock and across from Trent.
"That's what they say." Trent answered, nodding at her.
"Fan-fucking-tastic." Theresa grumbled, forehead dropping on the table. That means she is still due for one more bad thing to happen to her today. One - her argument with Jason. Two - The Eric Thing.
They were called in for a mission not to long ago and while Theresa waved Jason off when he wanted to apologize, saying that she shouldn't have brought up Nate's death and they moved on from it, the female Seal was still ignoring Eric fully. She couldn't believe he asked her that. It was so insulting for her. And not because of the person - God knows she has a pair of fully functioning eyes and can see just how attractive Clay Spenser is - or even because of the question, but who asked the question. Eric.
Eric, her leader. Eric, her friend. Eric, someone she trusts. And it hurt that he was the one to ask such a question to her because he knows her. Knows she would never put herself or him in a position like this. Sleeping with a co-worker on the base is not forbidden or anything, but a superior sleeping with an in-training sailor? Big no-no. It's not enough to get one thrown out, but it does give the opertunity for a newbie to claim that he or she wasn't chosen for a team because of sour grapes. And this has never been a problem for Theresa because she's never been interested.
And yes, she could now admit to herself - after much reflection the last two days - that she is interested in Clay Spenser - as more than a friend or a one night stand - but that does not mean she is suddenly going to jump his bones or give him special treatment or anything crazy like that. No one else even knows - maybe except for Brock and Jason, maybe the rest of the guys too, now that Theresa thinks about it - about her romantic interest in Clay.
"Alright, listen up," Eric's voice brought her out of her inner musings and she turned in his direction but made sure to not look directly at him. Yeah, she was being petty right now, but she was also hurt by him, so boo-hoo. "Captain Garcia from JSOC is gonna read us in on the op that he's been building." He looked at Garcia. "Captain?"
He nodded at Bravo and took a step forward, "You're looking at architectural drawings of a residential bunker. Designed by the same firm in Germany who used to build them for Sedam. As you can see, plans call for four barrack style guard rooms between two sets of blast doors. Behind the second door there's a utility closet and a small living area."
"Now, where do you think I'd get a mortgage for a place like that?" Sonny quipped with a smirk, getting chuckles and snickers from his teammates. When Theresa didn't even smirk, he grew a little worried. When he saw the look on Garcia's face, he couldn't help but tease further. "Ballpark?"
Garcia went on to explain to them about the Yemenese fixer that had the bunker built that they were looking at. But that he didn't think it was for the fixer or that it was built in Yemen.
"So, how about we skip to the boring parts and get to the who and where part, if that's alright with you?" Theresa's voice was sharp and the grin on her face was cold, patience practically non-exsistant. In response the Captain just pressed on the remote and another picture slid onto the screen. Theresa's eyebrows rose of their own accord as she sat up straight in her chair and whistled lowly.
"Oh."
"Suppose I don't need to tell you who that is?" The Captain asked, but it was mostly rhetoric as evident from the reactions of Bravo that they all knew.
"Uh, hold on, you saying you found Abu Hasan?" Ray was in as big a state of disbelief as the rest of him.
"We recently managed to place a tracker on a vehicle belonging to one of Hasan's couriers. We followed that vehicle-" Garcia told them and pressed another button on the remote. "-to this location."
Mandy then took over, explaining to them what they were looking at and exactly where it was. Which is in Saudi-Arabia.
"Wait a second, we're gonna make a hit inside Saudi-Arabia? The same Saudi-Arabia, I'm sorry," Jason lets out a light laugh of disbelief. "-that supplies more than half of the oil that we import from the Persian gulf."
"Is there any chance that you are gonna tell us that the Saudi's are on board? That they are gonna help us with the snatch?" Ray asked, not looking any happier than the rest of the team.
"The decision's been made not to include our Saudi allies in this operation." Garcia answered them.
"Seems like a great idea." Theresa drawled, crossing her arms over her chest. "Really, how they come up with these ideas and decision's is just beyond me."
"This decision has been made on our intel." Garcia said, looking at Theresa with a slight frown.
"So, you're not telling them because you think they're helping him, right?" Theresa asked sharply and not giving Garcia time to respond before she asked her next question. "And if that's true, what do you think their gonna do when they find out we made a move on their soil without asking?"
"What Tessa is trying to say, is that they're not gonna be our allies for long." Jason interjected before Theresa could live up to her nickname and blow up, looking at Mandy but not missing the frown that Garcia sent his way. "You sure they're protecting him?"
"Not sure, but we can't assume they aren't." Mandy shrugged.
Garcia went on again, "Needless to say the diplomatic and economic considerations are considerable. But Hasan was Khalid Mohammed's senior operational commander. And he's still directing Al Qaeda operations in Yemen, which makes him the biggest fish we've gone after since Bin Laden and now we believe we know where he is. But to get DOD approval we need to demonstrate an assault plan that doesn't risk a geo-political catastrophe."
Theresa's brows went up again, and Jason looked around to see if he heard right before he asked, "I'm sorry we're gonna demonstrate?"
"We've built a full sized replica of the bunker inside a secure hanger. Brass are inbound as we speak to view a rehearsal as soon as you all are up to speed." Garcia informed them matter of factly.
"This replica has already been built?" Sonny asked, thinking maybe he wasn't liking what he was hearing.
"We spent the last few days developing our assault plan." Garcia answered.
Now Sonny definitely wasn't liking what he was hearing. "Okay, pump the brakes here, who the hell has been designing our assault plan?"
Garcia moved forward to the intercom on the desk and pressed a button, "Heath, is Senior Chief Fuller there?"
"Yes, Sir, he's standing right there." Heath responded and Jason dropped his pen in annoyance and the rest of Bravo's faces just darkened.
"Perfect, we're ready for him." Garcia said and the next second, in walked Beau Fuller. "I assume you all know Beau Fuller, your Charlie Team Leader."
"Gentleman, Ladies." Fuller nodded his head as he entered the room, greeting everyone. Theresa didn't even to bother looking at him. Three years later and she was still miffed about the fact that he tried to steal her from Jason when she was in Green. And almost succeeding too. Had the paperwork ready and signed from the higher ups. That was, right up until Jason got in Fuller's face and fought for her.
"Last week while you were in Africa, we got Charlie team up and running. Chief Fuller is gonna be running you through our operation as soon as our guest arrive." Garcia told them. Theresa didn't like this. This is not how Bravo is used to doing things. It made her uneasy.
She clearly wasn't the only one, because Jason said, "I'm sorry, is that our plan or your plan? Because if we were involved in this whole process, the first thing we would do is get intel briefed, and then we would all put our heads together-"
"Afraid there's no time for that." Garcia interrupted him.
"There's no time for that." Jason scoffed sarcastically.
"I'm confident Chief Fuller's plan will get us our green light." Garcia raised his voice as he spoke.
"Thank you, Sir." Beau said, the look in his eyes bordering on smug and his words taunting. "I'd tell you we have a real shot, assuming you fellas - and lady, of course - are able to keep up." Jason chuckled without any humor as Theresa's eyes narrowed.
"We got ourselves a comedian here, ladies and gentleman." Sonny drawled, definitely not amused.
"I'm not liking the tone you're using, Fuller." Theresa said, looking at Beau, a hint of a threat in her voice.
"That'll be Chief Fuller to you." Garcia said, once more frowning at the female Seal.
"He's not my Chief." Theresa immediately retorted, voice growing colder with every word.
Garcia opened his mouth again, presumably to argue with Theresa when Beau shook his head and said, "Not a fight you wanna pick, trust me, not with her."
"Well, at least, he's got some sense." Theresa muttered to herself, smiling faintly when she heard Brock snort next to her.
"Gentleman and lady, I'm not gonna mince words. This has the potential to be the defining op of our lives. It's the one you'll tell your grandkids about. Bottom line, I simply can not stress enough, the importance of getting this one right. Get your game faces on." Garcia said, looking at each one of them.
Theresa gave him an unimpressed look, "If that was your attempt at a pep talk, it was piss-poor at best. Just saying."
"That's assuming we get greenlit." Sonny pointed out.
"We will." Beau told them confidently.
a/n: hey guys, been a while, huh? it's been a little hectic at home and the website where i usually get my transcripts was taken down, so you'll have to excuse if i get some something wrong. i'll try my best though. also, if someone has a website where i can get transcripts, that would be great because it is taking twice as long for me to write without them. sorry for the long wait, and i hope it was okay.