SEAL Team 666: A Novel

Walker stayed where he was told, but he was fuming over Holmes’s treatment. He could feel the tickling of his cheeks as they burned red with embarrassment. But now he heard something that took his mind off of his own plight. What was it they were going to do with the women? Take care of them? What did that mean?

Before he had a chance to get an answer to his question, Laws had the live Triad enforcer by the back of the neck. He tossed the man into one of the chairs. Yanking his arms behind his back, Laws took flex-cuffs from his utility pocket and ratcheted the man’s hands together.

The Triad enforcer’s hair was cut short on top and had been shaved on the sides, like a Ranger high-and-tight. Air and water dragon tattoos climbed from under his shirt up the sides of his neck.

Deep red blood soaked his white collared shirt where he bled from a shoulder wound. Laws prodded at it until the man screamed for him to stop. He tried to stand, but Laws shoved him back down.

“Bu zuo!”

The man’s eyes shot to Laws. Walker watched as understanding dawned on the Triad enforcer that this white guy could speak his language.

Laws grabbed one of the cigarettes still burning in the ashtray. He held it to the guy’s mouth and let him inhale. When he was done, he smiled amiably as he allowed the red-hot tip to hover teasingly next to the man’s wound before he replaced the cigarette in the ashtray.

“Ni jiao shemme mingzi?” Laws asked.

Fratty came in and joined them. He took another seat and snatched one of the cigarettes out of the ashtray. He took a puff, then coughed, tossing the cigarette to the floor. He pulled his pistol and shot the cigarette. “Shit tastes like ass.”

“Ni jiao shemme mingzi?” Laws asked again.

“Hong,” the man said.

“Says his name is Hong,” Laws said in a monotone. “But he’s lying. It could be a nickname, but that’s about it. Means ‘red.’ Like calling your kid ‘yellow’ or ‘green.’”

Holmes wore a deep frown. “Just find out what’s going on here.”

“Any more parts of the homunculus?” Laws asked.

“Saved the best for stew,” Fratty said.

Laws grinned. “Let me have it.”

“Serious?”

“Serious.”

Fratty moved to get up, but Walker stopped him. “I’ll get it.”

But before he could move, Holmes said, “Stay where you are, SEAL.”

“Sam,” Laws began, using the leader’s first name. “Maybe the kid could—”

“Stay out of it, Laws. He needs to learn not to act impulsive. Impulsive gets you killed and I’m tired of losing impulsive people.”

Walker ached to say something, but gritted his teeth instead. His hands hurt from where he was gripping his pistol. He decided to holster it and wait out the team leader. It was clear that they were going to have a conversation about this later, and he was more than ready for it.

Fratty sighed dramatically. “I guess I’ll get it then.” He climbed to his feet. He was gone for a few moments. When he returned, he had most of the homunculus in his hand, minus an arm and a leg. Hoover followed him with a hungry look.

The Triad enforcer immediately stiffened. His eyes darted back and forth from the dog to the creature and back. He seemed to be afraid of both of them.

“Maybe Hoover wants to sit on his lap,” Fratty suggested, chuckling.

Walker had been watching the Chinaman’s eyes. They kept drifting to a door in the corner of the room beside the cot. Walker stared at the spot for a long moment, then made a decision. He pulled his 9mm from his holster, loaded a fresh mag, and cocked the trigger back.

“What are you doing, SEAL?” Holmes asked.

“Going to check out the room we never checked.”

Fratty shot to his feet. Holmes stared toward the corner.

“What is it?” Laws asked.

“Has to be a bathroom or an exit or both,” Walker said. “If we hadn’t been playing freeze tag I might have checked it sooner. Will you unfreeze me?” he asked Holmes.

Instead of answering, Holmes moved past Walker without a glance. He silently commanded Fratty to set up with his Super 90. Holmes posted himself beside what everyone could now see was an almost invisible line in the drywall. On the silent count of three, he shoved it open.

A fourth Triad enforcer stood with a pistol aimed toward where the door had just been.

Fratty opened fire, smacking the man with two 12-gauge rounds that threw him against the sink, shattering the mirror behind it. He fell to the ground amid broken glass, blood, and bits of pulverized bone.

“Clear,” Fratty said.

Holmes spun into the room. “Clear.” He checked the pulse of the enforcer, then walked back into the room. As he passed Walker he said, “Freeze tag.” Then he chuckled. “That’s funny.”

For the next thirty-five minutes, Laws interrogated the enforcer. He didn’t water board. He didn’t cause any pain. Several times he led the man to believe that he might get hurt. In fact, Laws kept two narratives running—one in English to explain to his team what was going on, the other in Chinese as he applied his techniques.