Paying the Piper
When Sonny had proclaimed that their boy would need to pay the piper for his second night of immature, reckless behavior that got out of hand, neither Bravo Three nor the other senior members of their team expected the price would be so devastating for Brock and his own young brothers. But as their rookie had been warned by multiple adults, many times, actions have consequences.
Sometimes, luck is on your side as it was for Brock and his friends when Tim rescued them from a dirty bus stop outside Old Dominion, or a sympathetic cop who still held loyalty to his Navy brothers risked his own career to sneak the young SEALS out the back door of the police station before they could be officially processed.
Sometimes just when it seems, like a clueless kid, you dodged disaster relatively unscathed, it turns out that fate has other plans. And the very adult consequences are harsh and unforgiving.
After the zero dark thirty senior team member meeting in the parking lot, Jason marched into Sonny's apartment like a furious dad on a mission. Making good on his promise to teach Brock the hard way that Bravo One was not having childish nonsense on his team, Jason wore out his boy's sorry ass right there in Sonny's kitchen. And according to The Mighty Quinn's post paddling commentary, 'there was zero foreplay or disappointed daddy scolding'.
"Damn," Sonny shook his head at his longtime Alpha brothers when they were having lunch together the following Monday. "I thought my hard ass old daddy was all business when I found myself in trouble back in the day. But the boss made Mr. Quinn look like Mr. Rogers when he unloaded on our very sorry kid."
"Your kid should be very sorry," Metal scoffed. "If that cop hadn't decided to clue in Jason, instead of getting his little ass tore up, he'd be getting arrested and possibly dishonorably discharged."
"We all know he dodged a bullet," Sonny said. "And that's exactly what Mama Trent told him when it was over, and I know I'm going soft in my old age, but I felt for the poor kid. We all have Jason's back, and he gave the little shit what he needed, but we would have done the same thing at twenty if some tool was badmouthing our team."
"No doubt," Derrick chuckled. "And everyone at this table most definitely raised a lot more hell at his age than your little choir boy."
"Well," Sonny sighed, "Our little choir boy was squealing soprano at top volume first thing Sunday morning. There was no bible thumping preacher on the scene, but young Reynolds was having a Come to Jesus moment for sure."
"Oh, I am confident Master Chief Hayes let your boy know what he thought about his maiden voyage into bar brawling," Josh said solemnly.
"Brother," Sonny said. "The boss marched straight into my kitchen where I had the kid cooling his jets in the naughty chair. No lecture, no warning, no 'this hurts me more than you'. Jason goes straight for my drawer, fishes out an old wooden spoon I haven't touched in years, grabs the kid, who from the look of panic on his face knew what was coming, and hauls him out of the chair by his arm."
"Oh yeah," Derrick winced. "That never ends well."
"Never," Sonny agreed. "Trent and me are lookin' at each other wondering if we should suggest the boss might want to take a breath, but there was no time for an intervention. Next thing we know, Daddy Jason bends our boy over my table, yanks down his pants like a naughty twelve-year-old sent home from school for fighting, holds him down with one hand and proceeds to scorch his bare ass cherry red."
"Ouch," Josh said. "Bet that got him howlin'"
"The fussin' and sorry'n commenced as soon as Mr. Spoon made his unwelcome appearance," Sonny chuckled. "Then our very remorseful little dog boy lasted maybe three hard smacks across his dancing tail before he turned up the real howlin' and beggin' for mercy."
"Thankfully, it didn't last long," Sonny continued. "Bravo One made quick work of it, which was a relief to yours truly, because I think we all know that kid owns me. And miserable old Grumplestiltskin looked like he might start bawling himself watching his baby get the spankin' we all know he most definitely earned."
"Being a daddy is hard business," Josh shrugged. "And as the father of three babies, two of whom can flip from angel to demon on a dime, I can sympathize with poor old Jason. I think we all know he thought his brat wrangling days were behind him. And Sonny is surely not the only old grouch that boy has wrapped around his little finger."
"I assume from his pouting and bird doggin' Trent that your boy is going to live to test his boss-daddy once again," Metal scoffed. "He didn't look any worse for the wear to me this morning."
"Naw," Sonny concurred. "He's fine. Jason grounded him which is why he's shadowing Trent. The boss took him home after his spanking for some coddling and scolding. He's spending the week locked down, bunking in Mikey's old room and running extra drills, supervised by Nate who we all know enjoys being a hard ass prick."
"Where's Jason now?" Metal asked.
"He's meeting with the new kid who took over for Sanchez on Team Eight," Sonny said lightly. "He promised Brock's dumbass wingmen that he was making a full report to their new boss. Apparently, it's taking longer than expected because Jason was planning to be back for lunch."
"Speak of the devil," Derrick said, pointing across the cafeteria at Bravo One who was heading their way looking very serious.
Jason pulled out a chair and joined his brothers. Sighing, he rubbed at his eyes tiredly.
"I am way too old for this shit," Bravo's clearly worn out leader said, shaking his head at his longtime brothers.
"What's up, Jase?" Sonny asked, making concerned eye contact. "Did you meet with the new guy?"
"Where's Ray and Trent?" Jason asked quietly, ignoring Sonny's question. "The shit just hit the fucking fan."
"Trent is feeding the kid back in the cages," Sonny said, glancing over at Metal quickly. "Ray is off this afternoon, boss. He has that baby appointment he was driving Naima to today."
"Shit," Jason said. "I forgot about that."
"What's going on, Jase?" Derrick asked seriously. "Did something happen at the meeting with the Team Eight guy?"
"Oh yeah," Jason said. "Something happened alright. And I did not see this coming. But Brock's buddies are in deep shit. And our new rookie is soon to be in a world of hurt himself."
—-
Jason didn't know much about Duke, the young guy who took over Team Eight from Sanchez, other than according to Brock, he was not popular with his young team. That was no surprise to either Jason or Trent when Brock had reported that his friends were not impressed with their new boss.
Sanchez was a much older, seasoned father himself who had become a trusted and respected authority figure to his boys. Duke was an unknown entity fresh in from the west coast. He was a first time team leader in his mid-thirties with no kids of his own and plenty to prove. Jason could see that Duke would be a shock to the regular order of Team Eight who were all young kids in their twenties that looked up to Sanchez as a father figure.
When Brock had complained to the older men on behalf of his loyal friends, Jason had not paid much attention. He and Trent both told Brock that his partners in crime would adjust eventually. That getting used to new bosses and changing situations was part of growing up. Jason had his own kid to worry about, and his own team, so he didn't give a second thought to the drama on Team Eight which he did not expect to impact him or Bravo in any way. After his long meeting with Duke, Bravo One was well aware that Saturday's late night adventure was far from over for him and his currently blissfully unaware young rookie.
Jason had requested that Duke meet with him and Blackburn up in his boss's office at ten on Monday morning. He figured their talk would take maybe an hour, ninety minutes tops, and he would meet the other senior guys, minus Trent who was babysitting, for lunch in the cafeteria. Jason had already brought Blackburn up to speed on everything that had gone down Saturday night.
It wasn't a secret since several young SEALS and sailors had been involved in the brawl. But thankfully, no one was seriously hurt. Upper brass and the president of Old Dominion who were willing to admit wrongdoing and apologize for everyone involved were able to smooth things over with the Virginia Beach Police Commander and city hall.
The Navy and the college agreed to cover the cost of fixing anything damaged in the brawl, the young waitress received multiple apologies from those involved in the original Navy fight as well as a promise to cover any medical expenses. The president of the college personally reached out to the financial aid department who were in the process of finding additional grant money that would allow the girl to cover her tuition without the late night barmaiding which was a great relief to her frazzled mother and the boys down at Station Three.
None of the apologies and deal making involved the three young SEALS since Officer Carlson had successfully whisked them off the scene before anyone noticed they were involved. Jason and Blackburn both agreed that their punishments would be handled in-house by their team leaders, and the less talk of their involvement the better: not only for their boys, but for Carlson who had put his own ass on the line to do Jason a favor.
Neither Jason nor Blackburn were expecting an issue with the new Team Eight leader when he appeared at the Captain's office looking calm and collected. Jason was under the impression that they were sharing the news of Tommy and Kyle's involvement with their new boss for the first time. But they soon found out that the boys had panicked and confessed early that morning thinking that Duke might take it better coming from them admitting they had done something foolish.
Duke was not impressed with the boy's confession.
"I am not having men on my team who can't handle themselves both on and off the field," Duke said calmly with zero emotion, turning to face Jason. "I assume you feel the same, Hayes."
Jason made eye contact with Blackburn before responding, equally calm.
"I expect every man on my team can do his job in the field. With the exception of my rookie, who was with your boys on Saturday, every operator on Bravo has been with me for years, and they are all likely older than you. They understand the expectations both on and off the field. Like all of your team, Brock is very young. Just barely turned twenty-one. So there is a learning curve there."
Blackburn decided to step in as a superior to both men who were getting off to a frosty start in this conversation that he and his longtime friend were not expecting to be contentious in any way. Like Jason, Blackburn expected that the new guy in town would be relieved the issue was resolved for him and that his boys were not in any official trouble. They expected some hard ass repercussions for Tommy and Kyle - not an ass warming since his relationship or lack thereof was completely different from Bravo's family - but the long seasoned SEAL leaders expected stern lectures, restriction to quarters, and long, arduous drills would be utilized to punish the reckless young SEALS.
Both Jason and Blackburn were completely taken off guard when Duke unceremoniously announced he intended to remove Tommy and Kyle from Team Eight which all three men knew would be a mark on them that would never be erased. Like Brock, both boys had four years left of their commitment to the Navy. If another team didn't take them, which they wouldn't since they would be seen as damaged goods, they would most likely be knocked down in rank and pay grade and assigned duties either on base or more likely deployed overseas.
Blackburn regained the power of speech first, making eye contact with Jason that clearly read as 'let me handle this'.
"Obviously, Duke," Blackburn used the new team leader's informal name in an attempt to de-escalate the tension. But he looked him dead in the face, never breaking eye contact, which he had no doubt would remind the much younger SEAL that he was the top ranking dog in this conversation. "You are Team Eight's leader, and it is your decision who you want on your team. But, I have to admit that I am surprised you would take such drastic actions knowing that this is a career destroyer for two young men, one who is not even twenty-one. Is this a decision you have already made, or are you considering other options?"
"As you know sir," Duke replied respectfully, not breaking eye contact. "I am new to the east coast, and this is my first time leading a team. But I have almost eighteen years in the Navy. Twelve as a SEAL. And as Master Chief Hayes stated, my team is very young. All of them with the exception of my 2IC are more than a decade younger than me. They have spent their relatively short time as SEALS being led by Commander Sanchez who is much older and had many years as a leader of young SEALS under his belt when he retired."
"Believe me son, I don't envy you," Blackburn smiled, making a further attempt to lighten the mood and let the first time team leader know he understood his hard position. The captain made eye contact again with Bravo One to reinforce that the less he had to say right now the better for all involved.
"And it's probably hard for you to imagine looking at my rapidly thinning gray hair, but I was once a team leader to young, reckless, immature boys myself. And believe it or not, one of my most successful hard cases is with us here today. None other than Bravo One, Jason Hayes himself."
That got a brief smile from Duke who looked over at Jason disbelievingly.
"Really sir?" The new team leader looked skeptical. "You both were on the same team?"
"We surely were," Jason smiled, thankful that Blackburn was successfully cooling the temperature in the room. "Back in the day, Erick here was the lotto-winning leader of Team Six who had the pleasure of being boss to not only yours truly, but also some storied men you will no doubt have the pleasure to encounter during your time in lovely Virginia Beach. The Mighty Sonny Quinn, who now goes by Bravo Three, and Full Metal Jacket, aka Alpha One, just to name a few of Captain Blackburn's favorite success stories."
"So I do understand where you are coming from and the daily challenges of managing a young team doing a very dangerous and very adult job," Blackburn reiterated. "Has there been some issue with these boys before the Saturday incident that we aren't aware of?"
"Not Moreno and Curtis specifically," Duke conceded. "But the team collectively has been testing the waters with me. They've all been together for at least two years, and some of the guys have been on Eight for the last four to five years. Sanchez was the only SEAL team leader they knew before me. There is a level of familiarity among them that in some ways is good - they work cohesively as a group. But on the other hand, adjusting to a new leader when they were all attached to Sanchez and accustomed to his way of running things has been challenging for us all."
"So this incident on Saturday night gave you an excuse to shake up the familiar group dynamic and bring in two new guys who don't have an established connection with the team or Sanchez," Jason said mildly.
Blackburn closed his eyes, sighing. And things were going so pleasantly, he thought to himself.
"I wouldn't call it an 'excuse'," Duke responded defensively. "Moreno and Curtis made choices all on their own that were legitimately not acceptable. And regardless of how you choose to run your team or what you think about me as a leader, as Captain Blackburn clearly stated, this is my team now, and I can choose who I want or don't want to be part of my crew."
"Yes," Blackburn agreed, firmly. "That is your decision as team leader. And you are correct that your boys made bad decisions that could have led to innocent bystanders or civilians being injured, which is absolutely legitimate grounds for removal from your team if you so choose."
"And yet," Duke continued. "I think it's obvious that you both disagree with my decision."
Knowing that this situation was on the verge of going downhill fast for the two young kids he had grown to truly like, not to mention what losing his two best friends would do to his own kid, Jason decided to take a breath, channel his diplomatic 2IC, and try to offer alternatives to tanking the kids' careers that Duke might be willing to accept.
"It's not that I disagree with you trying to make Team Eight your own," Jason responded calmly. "And I can understand your hesitation to have a team that is very young and already strongly bonded not just to each other, but to their previous leader. I am not questioning your qualifications or ability to lead your team. I was your age when I became Bravo One, and I understand your position and respect your authority to run your own team without unsolicited opinions from old relics like me."
Both older men could see that Duke relaxed and was clearly less defensive. The new team leader was well aware that he was in unfamiliar territory, and he had no desire to kick off his new position on a new base by ruffling the feathers of Captain Blackburn or worse, the SEAL legend Jason Hayes. Until he was summoned to the captain's office, Duke had no idea that Moreno and Curtis had any connection to Hayes or Bravo. He wasn't aware that Hayes' rookie who he clearly cared for was involved in this incident, and he didn't realize that Hayes' kid had been on Team Eight.
Duke was not looking to rock the boat with these well respected men, and he realized that his lack of knowledge about the men he was leading was something he needed to rectify.
"I apologize if I came off combative, sir," Duke said, turning to face Blackburn. "I'm obviously new here, and I'm not looking to get off on the wrong foot. I haven't been on this side of the country long, but I have been in the Navy long enough to know that you are both highly respected, and I am honored to serve with you."
"I appreciate that, son," Blackburn said sincerely. "And I'll repeat what I said before; Team Eight is yours to run as you see fit. But, if you are open to advice from a couple of old guys who have been around for a long time, there are other options that you could consider before you make any final decisions regarding young Moreno and Curtis."
"I'm not a complete hard ass, despite what I suspect you have heard from the boys on my team," Duke said, shaking his head. "And if you have suggestions about how I might deal with this situation in a way that makes clear to my team that I am not running Animal House, without permanently damaging the careers of Moreno and Curtis, I am open to your advice."
"First, let me clarify that neither of your boys have complained to me about you in any way," Jason said. "And if they had, I would have most definitely told them that you are the boss, period. I would never undermine your authority with your team or that of any SEAL brother trying to wrangle a team of young operators. I only have one barely legal kid to deal with, and four brothers on Bravo with more than a hundred combined years in the Navy backing me up. And believe me, my boy has tested my limited patience and learned the hard way that there are very painful consequences for reckless behavior from immature brats who mistakenly think they are grown. So I can't imagine keeping five of them in line on and off the field. You are in my thoughts and prayers."
"I appreciate that, sir," Duke chuckled. "And between the three of us, they are proving to be a handful. And as you obviously know, my highest priority is completing our missions and bringing them all home alive."
"We understand that," Blackburn said firmly. "And from what I've seen so far, you are doing an admirable job of maintaining the well-oiled machine Commander Sanchez was running while making Team Eight your own. And I agree that you need to bring the hammer down on any and all nonsense right out of the gate. Despite the respect and love your boys had developed over time for Sanchez, they need to understand that you are their leader now. And no, we are most definitely not running Animal House on this base."
"So how do you suggest I handle this issue with Moreno and Curtis?" Duke asked. "When I made the decision to remove them from the team, I was also taking into consideration the recent incident that took place just before Sanchez retired involving what I understand to be several young girls from Old Dominion, binge drinking, and apparently a tank of pink tropical fish."
"Unfortunately, you understand correctly," Jason said, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "And full disclosure, my newly minted rookie was the genius who spent the night in an emergency room getting dead fish pumped out of his belly, and the following week parked on my long-suffering medic's couch, sick as a sad dog with his sorry little ass aching and swollen from antibiotic injections."
Blackburn chuckled, "And while Brock was feeling sorry for himself on lock down with Bravo Four, Tommy Moreno was being assigned a new roommate as his best buddy and partner in stupidity was immediately banned by a very irate Bravo One from returning to fun and freedom in the dorms which he clearly is not mature enough to handle without adult supervision - despite his recent rise to tier-one status."
"So this is becoming an unfortunate pattern for these boys," Duke said seriously. "And I can't have it on my team. I don't have your years of well earned respect as a SEAL team leader, and I don't have your reputation or your experienced, equally respected tier one team backing me up here. I have a solid 2IC who I can count on, and I can replace Moreno and Curtis with older operators in their late twenties with several years of experience who can be role models I can rely on. Grown men who aren't living in the dorms and who don't have the emotional attachment to Sanchez."
"Despite my obvious soft spot for Tommy and Kyle," Jason conceded. "If I were in your shoes, that is a reasonable decision I would consider for the good of the team as a whole which is your first responsibility."
"Now that we have a better understanding of your difficult situation, I agree that replacing the boys with more experienced men is a difficult but smart decision for the team as a whole," Blackburn agreed.
He paused to consider his next words before continuing.
"But can you as a commander responsible for Moreno and Curtis as current members of your team, see a way to deal with their clearly inappropriate choices in a way that demonstrates to them, and your other young charges, that the consequences for reckless behavior are serious, but also takes into account that they are very young and lack life experience," Blackburn questioned. "They have both served diligently in the field. And up until the recent obvious lapses in judgment, neither boy has had any official disciplinary marks on their records. After the ridiculous fish incident, Sanchez reported that they were legitimately good kids who made some immature decisions. Is there a way you can see to deal with their unacceptable behavior without ending their Navy careers?"
"I understand what you're saying, sir," Duke said sincerely. "And I'm not looking to be reactionary or vindictive with two young operators that I agree are basically good kids. I have another option that will no doubt be very hard on the boys, but is a chance for them to make a new start without damaging their future as SEALS."
"What are you thinking?" Jason asked.
"So what the hell happened at your meeting?" Sonny asked. "I thought you and Blackburn were going to bring the new guy up to speed on what happened with the boys on Saturday. Let him know that Carlson pulled their nuts out of the fire and the three dipshits are off the hook with the cops."
"That was the plan," Jason said wearily, leaning back in his chair and looking at his confused brothers. "But the whole situation was a lot more complicated than Erick and I were anticipating. So basically, the stupidity fest that we thought was over and handled in-house is currently blowing up in the boys' faces. And it's going to be a very hard lesson for all three of them. But Tommy and Kyle are going to suffer the worst of it."
"Meaning?" Metal said.
"This new guy, Duke," Jason said. "He's not letting it go with the kind of punishment that's standard for this kind of immature nonsense. Blackburn and I talked him down from going full nuclear on the boys, but his original intention was to officially boot them off Team Eight."
"Seriously?" Derrick said. "That would destroy any kind of future for them career wise in the Navy. Getting tossed from a SEAL team after you've earned your trident and operated for almost two years isn't like washing out of BUDS or SERE where they could return to the jobs they had before starting training."
"But you and Blackburn talked him down?" Josh said.
"Erick was able to lower the temperature in the room," Jason explained. "Because, believe me when I tell you, this kid came in hot. And after listening to the situation from his perspective, I understand where he's coming from."
"No way, Jase," Sonny snorted. "You think it's reasonable to throw two kids who have never been in any real trouble before under the bus and tank their careers over a fight where no one got hurt and they believed they were doing the right thing by defending their big brothers? Everyone of us did way worse back in the day. And no boss ever came close to what this guy was planning."
"And he's not taking that route," Jason said tiredly. "But we all know this is far from the first time those kids have skirted disaster doing stupid shit. The fish fiasco was just a couple months back. And God knows what other bullets they are dodging every weekend prowling around on The Boardwalk and deflowering college girls all over town."
Jason paused to text Trent that he needed to see him ASAP, and to come without Brock.
"And that's not even the whole story," Jason continued. "This guy is brand new on the east coast and as a team leader. He took over Team Eight from a well known and loved commander who is our age. In addition to The Wonder Twins, Duke has three other kids under twenty-five, and all five of them, including Brock's buddies, have been testing him to see how far they can push. But unlike me, and everyone else at this table, he can not get away with paddling asses and sending his supposedly grown team to bed in his spare room with no dessert. And he's responsible for completing dangerous missions with these kids and bringing them home alive."
"Five guys in their early twenties is a huge challenge," Josh agreed. "Especially trying to wrangle them after they've been together for a few years under Sanchez. How is his 2IC working out?"
"Apparently they are working well together and have the same expectations for the team," Jason said. "But they are both around Nate's age, and this is the first team they've run."
"So," Metal said. "I'm guessing Duke was thinking this was his chance to ditch two brats and shake up the status quo by bringing in two of his own picks, probably older and more experienced if he's got a half a brain. And I agree with Jason on this one. It makes sense for the good of the team as a whole."
"Exactly," Jason said. "But after we talked it out, the guy is willing to offer Tommy and Kyle another option."
"Which is what?" Sonny asked.
"He's going to allow them to voluntarily put in for transfers to west coast teams," Jason explained. "He's letting the whole fight thing go and having them both say they want to transfer for their own personal reasons. All the hens will be cackling here on base, but it won't raise suspicions out in California. Tommy and Kyle will just be two young SEALS starting out on new teams."
"Damn," Sonny said, shaking his head. "I can see where this guy is coming from. If I had to deal with five kids in their early twenties on and off the field, I'd be ready to exit transport at 10,000 feet without a chute. But this is a brutal lesson. Do these two boys even know anyone on the west coast? Where are they originally from?"
"It's no doubt going to be hard for them," Jason said. "And this is exactly why I am not putting up with shit from our kid. Actions have consequences, and all three are going to learn the hard way this time. I already pulled Brock out of the dorm after the fish bullshit and put him with a babysitter and guys he didn't know who are older. Tommy and Kyle have been together with Brock since they enlisted. They went through SEAL training, Green Team, everything together. Until we took Brock in, they were his only family out here. He's already struggling with the adjustment to tier-one. Losing his two best brothers is really going to hurt. Especially since we all know he's young and sensitive. He's the one who had the original conflict with the kid who washed out, which is what started the entire shit show. That's not something that will be lost on a good kid like Brock."
Trent arrived on the scene looking confused, minus Brock as instructed.
"What's going on Jason?" Bravo's medic asked. "I left the kid scrubbing the common area."
When Trent was quickly brought up to speed, he was not as shocked as his brothers.
"We all know this is going to be rough on all three boys, boss," he said solemnly. "But honestly, I was afraid this was coming."
"What?" Sonny scoffed disbelievingly. "You had the conjoined twins who share one small brain being tossed off their first SEAL team and banished to California on your bingo card for this month?"
"I didn't know how it would go down," Trent sighed. "But based on the bitching and moaning that our kid has been telling me about coming from the youngsters on his former team, and knowing this Duke is a new guy to our world, in his thirties, with plenty to prove, I am in no way shocked that he would take this opportunity that Moreno and Curtis handed to him on a silver platter with their own reckless nonsense."
Trent leaned back in his seat, shrugging at his brothers.
"Now Duke can legitimately replace them with more mature guys who won't be a regular pain in his ass," Trent went on. "And no one will give him shit for it, because those boys brought this on themselves. They have been warned, Brock included, many times. Jason has told them actions have consequences. I've told them. Sanchez warned them. Decker ripped all three of them along with his two support guys a collective new one when they returned to work after the stupid ass fish thing."
"Do Moreno and Curtis have any connections at all out west?" Sonny repeated. "California has their own guys coming out of training every cycle. Does this Duke guy know of a team who will want two of ours?"
"I don't think either of them have ever been in California," Jason said. "Kyle came out of foster care in backwoods Oklahoma. According to Brock, he was living with some out of work, drunken uncle who took him in so he could collect a paycheck for supposedly being his foster father."
"Damn," Josh said sympathetically. "Tommy and Brock are probably all the family he has."
"They are," Trent confirmed. "And Tommy is from New Jersey. Single mother. The father skipped out on them. He's the oldest of three. And sending most of his pay back to his mother for rent and to put his little sisters in Catholic School because they live in some shitty neighborhood with dangerous, shitty schools in Jersey City. His mother cleans hotel rooms at a casino. He's basically the breadwinner which is why he's made no attempt to leave the dorms or buy a car. All his money goes to his family."
"No chance these two don't take the lifeline and run to California," Metal said solemnly. "It doesn't sound like they have any other options."
"They don't," Jason said. "They're going to have to suck it up and pray they can find teams on the west coast who will give them a shot. And we all know there's little to no chance any team is taking them both, so they're going to need to separate. But at least they'll be on the same base, and they can likely room together."
"Maybe I can help," Josh offered. "I don't know these boys personally, but I've seen them with Brock, and they are clearly nice kids who haven't had much go their way so far in life. God forbid my scatterbrained, impulsive son ended up on his own with no daddy in his corner. I'd pray someone would step up for him."
"You are a good man, brother," Derrick smiled at Alpha's gentle giant and top-shelf daddy.
"No question about that," Sonny said, slapping his longtime brother's back.
"Y'all obviously know I spent several years on the west coast teams before JJ was born, prompting Melinda and I to move back this way to be close to her family," Josh said. "I have brothers out west who have moved up the ranks, one in particular who keeps in touch. He's an instructor now, but he led a team for a lot of years, and he knows everyone out there. I will reach out tonight and see what he can do to talk up our boys and help them get settled. He doesn't have kids of his own, but he and his wife were wonderful to my babies. And they have time on their hands and a soft spot for the hard luck cases."
"I really appreciate this brother," Jason said sincerely. "I've gotten to know these boys through Brock. This is going to be tough for them, but I'm going sit all three kids down to hopefully get them sorted. And Trent brother, once again, I'm going to need some serious Mama Medic back-up."
Sonny shook his head. "Boss. I think we all know you are going to need Bravo's own Supernanny working overtime to wrangle The Three Musketeers and put them back on the rails when Duke delivers the bad news that the piper is most definitely getting paid this time."
"Better you than me, brother," Metal shook his head, making eye contact with Trent. "Better you than me."
Two weeks later, Tommy and Kyle were hitching a last minute ride on a Navy transport flight taking local SEALS out to the west coast base for training. They were anxious to say the least. But after having a long, serious and sometimes emotional group therapy/tough love session with Jason, Trent, Josh and Sanchez, who had opted to remain in Norfolk where his kids attended school at least until they all graduated, they felt like everything would be okay for them.
All three boys understood that the reckless behavior could not continue. Brock and his loyal brothers knew that they all needed to do some serious growing up immediately if they were serious about being Navy operators moving forward. Brock went to the tarmac on base to see them off late Friday night when they got the call that seats on the plane were available, and they were expected to report to their new base. Once they had said their good-byes, Brock stood in an empty ropes course where he and his best friends had once gone regularly to run drills while they were trying to survive SEAL training.
There were many days when one or all of them felt like throwing in the towel, when it seemed like none of them were good enough, smart enough or strong enough to make it through. But somehow, they managed to get to the other side together. Alone and shivering in the late night rain with silent tears he didn't try to hide running down his face in the empty darkness, Brock once again wondered if he was going to make it.
For the first time since he arrived at basic training and was randomly assigned to the same barracks room, Brock was without his two best friends. The brothers who had seen him through everything. The anxiety and fear of being away from home for the first time in his life, three thousand miles from his parents and siblings, when he had never been more than a hundred miles from his small childhood home. SEAL training. SERE.
Tommy and Kyle had advocated daily for Sanchez to take a second look at him, fought by his side in war zones around the globe, encouraged him to become a K9 handler, and no one was happier or prouder than his beloved brothers when the legend Jason Hayes showed up out of nowhere and made their worry wort, rule following, fiercely loyal, voice of reason brother from another mother a name-taking, ass-kicking, tier-one Navy SEAL operator.
And suddenly, they were gone. Brock's heart was racing, and he had no idea what he was supposed to do now.
Brock knew that Justin would most likely be hanging around the apartment. His roommate and babysitter, as Sonny referred to the older kid, had made a point of telling the younger boy that he would be home early from dinner with his new girlfriend. Tim had mentioned that Brock's friends had an unexpected late flight out to California, and Justin assured Bravo's support team leader that he would make it an early night. He promised to let Jason or Trent know if the kid needed any kind of intervention. But Brock had texted to let Justin know that he was fine and would be hanging out with some other friends of his from the dorm.
It was a lie.
Brock was standing alone in a field with no ride and no friends in sight. But, as much as he was getting to know and really like Justin, he didn't have anywhere near the level of love and trust he shared with his former teammates. The boy was still self-conscious being the new kid in the 'adult' base housing and several years younger than the rest of the other guys. They all looked up to Jason and were good to Brock, but he was not ready to have Justin, or any other older guys who might be hanging around, see him arriving home soaked and puffy-eyed like a little kid whose mother forgot to pick him up after school.
Brock lectured himself that he was fucking Bravo, and he needed to start taking care of himself.
But then, he remembered what Jason had said to him. And what Trent and Sonny had told him. And what Justin and the Delta support kids had reminded him was the absolute rule when you were in trouble. What Tim had told him was the only smart thing they had done after he swallowed a tankful of nasty fish.
Call for back-up. Immediately. No matter how bad it is. No matter how much trouble you might be facing. No matter what time it might be. Call for help.
Even if you are twenty-one. Shivering in the cold rain. Crying like a little kid.
After second guessing himself and wandering out to a bench in the parking lot, Brock finally took out his phone and scrolled through his contacts. He tapped 'Brock's Boss Daddy'.
Kyle had changed the contact name from 'Jason' awhile back when Brock was in the shower. Brock hadn't changed it back, knowing his brothers would just do it again, likely with a name more ridiculous the next time. Sitting alone on the bench, he laughed to himself remembering how Tommy and Kyle had joked and teased when Brock rolled his eyes and whipped them off. And it made him tear up again like a 'fucking dateless girl on prom night' as Sonny was fond of calling him when he was looking bored and friendless surrounded by the 'grown-ass men'.
When the half-awake voice at the other end of the line answered, "Hayes", Brock almost lost it completely. But he tried really hard to hold it together.
Unable to speak right away for fear of sounding like a bawling six-year-old calling 911 because he couldn't find his mommy, Brock was quietly fighting to gain control of himself on the other end of the line.
Rubbing his eyes and looking down at the caller ID, Jason immediately sat up and pulled back his covers.
"Brock?" he said in full Bravo One mode. "Hey, what's happening? Answer me, son."
"Um, Jase?" The boy managed to get out relatively steady.
But Jason knew his kid. And he could hear the emotion and panic in his young voice.
"Where are you, Brock?" Jason said calmly. "Are you hurt?"
"No sir," he answered, sniffling. "I"m sorry, boss. I know it's probably really late. I'm not hurt or anything."
"What's going on, Brock?" Jason asked again. "Where are you?"
"I'm really sorry about this, boss," Brock apologized again. "I guess maybe I should have called Justin. Or I could have just walked home. Do you want me to call Trent instead?"
"Son," Jason said, summoning all his patience. "I want you to take a breath. Calm down. And answer my question. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, sir," Brock said, taking the ordered breath and waiting for the question.
"Where are you right now?" Jason asked, putting the phone on speaker so he could dress while talking.
"I'm on base," Brock answered.
"Is anyone with you?" Jason said. Now dressed, he picked up the phone and continued to talk to his clearly upset kid while simultaneously texting Sonny, hoping his brother who was the closest to base would see the late night text and respond.
"No. I'm alone," Brock said quietly.
"Are you hurt?" Jason asked.
"No, sir," Brock answered.
"Why are you on base alone?" Jason asked, relieved that his kid was answering directly and the rambling had stopped.
"Tommy and Kyle are gone," the kid choked out, trying hard to hold it together. "They got called without notice that they needed to come to base to get a spot on a transport out to California. They need to report to the new base. I came with them to say good-bye. They're gone."
"Okay," Jason said gently. Understanding what was happening, and relieved this wasn't a third shit show. "I can hear it's pouring outside. Where exactly are you on base? Are you in a building?"
"No, Jase," Brock answered, looking around. "I'm not exactly sure where I am. It's really dark here. Outside. Yeah it's raining. I'm cold, but I'm not near a building."
Great, Jason thought to himself, the rambling is back.
"Can you come get me?" Brock asked, quietly.
He sounded like a scared kid. It made Jason suddenly think of Mikey after he'd lost his mother and Emma went off to school, leaving his boy to depend solely on him for care and support.
"Or should I walk back to the apartment? I think maybe Justin is there," his kid continued unsure of what to do.
"Do not go anywhere, Brock," Jason said firmly. "I'm going to have Sonny come get you now. He's close."
"Sonny's coming?" Brock asked, confused. "Is he gonna be mad at me?"
Jason snorted. "Sonny is never mad at you, kiddo. He'll probably fuss and scold you. But he's not mad."
When the kid was quiet, Jason continued.
"Where are you outside?" Bravo One questioned, pacing with the phone in his hand.
"In a parking lot on a bench," Brock said, looking around. "It's dark and empty here. There's no cars. I don't know where this lot is."
"Okay, honey," Jason said, calmly channeling his inner Trent. "Look around. All the lots are labeled on base. Walk around and look for the sign."
"It's raining hard here," Brock said, shivering. "Is it raining there?"
"Yes," Jason said, waiting for Sonny to respond and getting ready to just drive there himself. "It's raining here too. Did you find the sign? I need to tell Sonny where to pick you up. He's close. He'll be there soon."
"The sign says 'Lot BB'," the kid reported. "Where is that? I never heard of BB."
"I know where you are, son," Jason said, relieved to have a location. "It's back by the training fields."
"Oh yeah," Brock said, his teeth chattering as the rain soaked through his hoodie and jeans. "I was by that ropes course. I watched the plane take off."
Jason: Sonny? Are you getting this? I have Brock on the phone so I can't talk. I need you to go pick him up on base ASAP.
Sonny: Copy that, boss. What the fuck is he doing on base at this hour?
Jason: Long story. He just called. He's clearly upset and confused. I'm trying to get the details, but he's rambling. Just go get him. Call me when he's in your truck. Bring him here.
Sonny: On my way. Tell him I'll be there in 10. Where on base?
Jason: Lot BB. Out behind the tarmac near the old training courses. He's alone in the lot. Moreno and Curtis just took off. He's upset and clearly confused. Tread lightly.
Sonny: I just went through security. Tell him to hold tight. It's pouring out here.
Jason: I've got him on the line. He's sitting on a bench. Call when you have him.
Sonny: Copy that, boss.
"Okay Brock," Jason said, firm and calm. "Sonny is almost there. Stand up and look for his truck. But don't leave the lot. He's coming to you. Tell me when you see him."
"I see a truck coming, Jase," Brock said, clearly relieved. "Do you think it's Sonny?"
"Wave him down, son," Jason said, still pacing. "It's likely him."
"Yeah, Jase," the kid reported. "Sonny's here."
Sonny pulled up next to the kid and jumped out of his truck into the downpour which as luck would have it had just started full force.
"Come on, Shorty," Sonny said, taking him by the arm and leading him to the truck. "It's Uncle Sonny's Late Night Rescue for Drowned Brats. Get up in there, now."
Jason could hear that Sonny had arrived.
"Brock, give Sonny the phone for me," Jason ordered.
"The boss wants to talk to you," the soaking wet, freezing cold, shivering kid looked up at Sonny from the passenger seat, holding up the phone. He looked like a runaway teenager someone had dumped on the side of the road.
Sonny took the phone, shaking his head at the hot mess currently soaking his passenger seat. The older man cranked up the heat, and pulled out of the empty lot.
"Mission accomplished, boss," Sonny sighed. "And I hope your hot water is running, because this one is soaked to the skin."
"Boy," Sonny whistled, looking over at the kid. "If Trent could see you right now, his head would likely explode like crazy old Elmer Fudd when he loses track of Bugs Bunny."
"What?" Jason could hear the confusion in the boy's shaking voice. "Who's Elmer Fudd, Sonny? Are we going to see Trent?"
"Sonny," Jason said sternly, redirecting his attention. "Is he okay? Does he need Trent, or is he just soaked and upset?"
"He looks okay to me, Jase," Sonny reported. "I'm going through the all night Dunkin' to grab him a hot chocolate. I'll bring coffee. He definitely needs sorting, but you can probably wait til morning to alert Grumplestiltskin. He'll no doubt be pissed you didn't call right away, but you can decide when you get a look at Soggy Drawers here if we need to call in the Cavalry tonight."
An hour later, Brock wandered into Jason's small kitchen, fresh out of a long, hot shower and dressed for bed in Mikey's old bedroom which was quickly beginning to feel like his own.
"Sit down, kiddo," Jason ordered, standing to get his exhausted boy a bottle of water. He nodded toward the Dunkin' box on the table where Sonny was quietly drinking his coffee. "Have a donut. Did you eat dinner tonight?"
"We ate on base earlier, after work," Brock said, quietly. He obeyed his boss and reached for a pink frosted donut. "Thanks for coming to get me, Sonny. I'm sorry I got you both up in the middle of the night. I guess I probably should have just walked home. It's only just less than a mile from those back lots."
"Hey, pip-squeak," Sonny said gruffly, before Jason had a chance to respond. "I told you before when you came wandering into The Bulkhead looking for transport out to your old Mama Trent. You can come to me, or this old coot, or Grumplestiltskin any time, day or night. Walking a mile home to your babysitter in a downpour that would shake up Noah would not have been a good idea. You did the right thing by calling the boss. And no one is mad at you. Capice?"
Brock looked over at Jason before answering.
"Yes, sir," he said to Sonny, scooping the frosting off his donut and licking it from his finger. "You know I love you right?"
"Yeah," Jason chuckled. "We got the message. And Sonny is right. Calling when you need help is never the wrong thing."
"Okay," Brock nodded, looking down at the table.
Sonny could see their kid was exhausted and likely ready to hit the wall. Not wanting to be on the scene for a possible emotional breakdown, Bravo Three stood and kissed the boy's wet head.
"Old Sonny is heading home," he announced, picking up his coffee and a donut for the road. "I don't plan to be anywhere in the vicinity a few hours from now when the boss here knows he's going to need to let Trent know about the late night, soggy, curbside baby pick-up."
"Night, Sonny," Brock yawned, resting his head on the table. "Thanks for coming to get me."
"You're welcome, honey," Sonny said, shaking his head at his longtime brother and heading toward the door.
"I'll see you Monday, Son," Jason said, reaching over to rest his hand on the head of the boy who was fading fast next to him at the table. He used his thumb to gently stroke Brock's warm forehead. "Shorty and I owe you one."
"I'll remember that the next time poor Ol' Sonny needs a break on the hill climbing," the secret softy said, heading out the door.
"You about ready to hit the sack there, son?" Jason asked softly, still rubbing his boy's head. "Don't fall asleep on me at the table."
Brock nodded, closing his eyes. "Yeah, boss," he mumbled. "I'm tired."
Jason chuckled, standing to clean up the coffee and donuts before patting the kid's back and getting him on his feet and moving.
"Let's go, sweetheart," Jason said softly. "We're going to get you tucked in bed so we can both get some sleep before we need to face Trent. Sonny's correct that he'll be pissy I didn't call."
"I love Trent," Brock mumbled, following blindly as Jason led him to the back bedroom.
"I know you do," Jason said, covering up his kid and sitting down on the side of the bed to assure he was settled for the rest of the night. "And you can bet the farm with no worry that your Mama Trent loves you back even more."
"Jase?" Brock asked quietly, turning on his side and scooting over close to rest against his trusted protector's leg. "Do you think Tommy and Kyle will forgive me for this?"
"Forgive you for what, honey?" Jason asked, rubbing his boy's back. He knew exactly why Brock was feeling guilty, but he wanted him to say it out loud.
"Getting them tossed off Team Eight and banished to California," Brock said, trying not to tear up again.
"Okay, son," Jason said, calm and gentle. "It's too late for twenty questions, and you are clearly well past exhausted. So I'm going to cut to the chase here."
When Brock looked up at him with watery brown eyes, Jason continued.
"I know what you've been fretting about since Duke announced that he was transferring your partners in crime," Jason said. "And yes, all three of you made immature choices that helped lead to tonight. But Brock, it was not all on you, and I promise that Tommy and Kyle know that. People make decisions all the time - some good, some not so good- and those decisions lead to consequences - some good, some not so good. But that's part of life and growing up."
Jason moved his hand down to wipe away a stray tear and stroke his boy's cheek, attempting to avoid a late-night, exhausted meltdown.
"Duke's decision, which very well might turn out to be a really good thing for your buddies long-term, was based on several different factors, most of which have nothing to do with you," Jason continued to talk calmly. "It's really complicated, and we are both too tired to get into that tonight. And either way, all that matters is what's done is done. And all you and the other two musketeers can do now is try to see the good that could come from this, and move on to make good choices that hopefully lead to some good outcomes."
"How can Tommy and Kyle being sent away be a good thing?" Brock asked softly.
"You know about how Josh talked to his friend and helped get them on two good teams, with strong leaders," Jason reminded his worn out kid. "Both teams have a mix of older and younger operators. I think that's a good thing."
"How come that's better than Team Eight?" Brock was genuinely curious.
"Do you like being on Bravo?" Jason asked, already knowing the response that was coming.
"Yes, Jase," Brock looked up at him eagerly. "You know I love being Bravo. You're my family now. I never want to leave you guys."
"So, the fact that Ray and Nate are in their thirties, or that the rest of us are more than old enough to be your father doesn't bother you?" Jason asked. "I mean on Team Eight, you had all guys your own age who didn't lecture or scold you. You were living your best party life in the dorms. And I'm guessing sweet old Sanchez never tanned your little tail."
"Sometimes I miss the guys from Eight," Brock said honestly. "But, I still get to see them at work, and we hang out on the weekend. And I love you guys so much. You feel like my real family. I mean if you didn't care about me, I guess you wouldn't be sitting here with me now. Or sending Sonny to pick me up in the rain at zero dark thirty."
"And do you think that maybe on their new teams," Jason went on. "Even though Tommy and Kyle aren't together 24/7, they can still room together. And I'm thinking maybe they could both do with a little bit of scolding and fussing and being looked out for from their new big brothers who have circled the block many times and can teach them what to do and how to act."
"I guess I never thought about that," Brock said softly.
"Well, son," Jason said, smiling down at him. "As I've told my own babies many times. That's why you have a grumpy old guy like me around. To remind you to look for the good, and not get tripped up in the hard parts."
Jason could see his boy could barely keep his eyes open, but he was fighting sleep hard.
"Alright now, honey," Jason said, firm and gentle. "I want you to close your eyes and sleep. It's late."
"Can you stay a little longer?" Brock asked hopefully, obeying his surrogate dad and turning into his warm, safe side. "Just a few minutes."
"Shh," Jason soothed. He rubbed Brock's back, knowing he'd be out as soon as he stopped rambling. The kid was inches from passing out and sleeping until noon. "No more talking. Bedtime."
"Love you," Brock mumbled, holding tight to his trusted hero's shirt.
"Love you too, tough guy," Jason smiled. He kissed his boy's head. Leaning back against the wall, Bravo One waited for the kid to sleep peacefully and deep before he got up to head back to his own warm bed.