True Devotion

Tyndale House Publishers

Chapter One

Kelly Jacobs could already see the headline on the front pageof the weekly Coronado Eagle newspaper: "Riptide Kills Teenand Lifeguard." The cold water had her by the throat. Six minuteshad passed since she'd last seen the boy bobbing in the swells,and they were being pulled out to sea at a horrifying clip.

She had a lifetime of experience in the Pacific waters off SanDiego, numerous rescues, but nothing like this. The water inearly May, warmer than usual from La Niqa, was still only sixty-sevendegrees, cold enough to induce hypothermia. The swellsdropped her four feet down in the troughs. If she didn't find theboy soon she wouldn't have the ability to get them back to shore.And this was a big ocean for a search party to cover in the dark-toher left the sun had already set and the twilight was fading fast.

The riptide created by the conflux of ocean currents and theoutgoing tide had formed late in the day with an explosive suddenness.When conditions changed, the riptide would fade asabruptly as it had formed, but whether it lasted a few hours or aday would not matter in the end. It was already on the verge ofbecoming deadly.

The fear of what was coming overwhelmed her. This fight toreach the boy was turning into a personal life-and-death struggle.The saltwater burned her throat and sent her gasping as anotherwave caught her in midbreath. To give up the attempted rescue tosave herself, to let the boy drown- It had been years since shehad cared about something this much. She wasn't going to giveup, and she wasn't going to fail.

Kelly strained to find a way to work with the waves ratherthan against them. The boy was out here, somewhere near, andshe was going to reach him. She thought about her husband asshe fought the cold of the sea. Nick, did you die because youdrowned? The Navy had never told her.

She would have said it was impossible for her husband, a NavySEAL, to drown. With all his training, with all his confidence andcourage, she had dismissed it as even a consideration, but she wassuddenly not sure anymore and the thought was agonizing.

Three years ago she had said good-bye to her husband at thegates of the U.S. Naval Amphibious Base, half a mile downHighway 75 from their home in the Coronado Shores subdivision.It was a typical good-bye-loving but rushed. Nick hadbeen slipping away from her ever since his pager went off fortyminutes before, his attention already on the upcoming mission.

She stole one last hug, burying her face against his uniform,wishing he wasn't leaving but unwilling to put that wish intowords. She never wanted to hold him back or give him reason tohesitate. She loved him and she would keep everything on thehome front together and ready for his return. Nick lifted Kelly offher feet for his kiss good-bye and then strode with purposethrough security to join the other members of SEAL Team Ninegathering to hear why they had been paged to assemble at 8 P.M.

A confident man, her husband, serving in one of the elitebranches of the U.S. special forces-a Navy SEAL: from sea, air,or land, they would get the job done. Fluent in three languages, acompetent backup medic, he was accustomed to being sent todeal with crises around the world where force had to be broughtto bear rapidly. They called him Eagle because he saw everything.A useful trait since he walked point for one of the two squads inGolf Platoon.

Kelly dropped him off at the base and returned home, knowingneither where he was going nor how long he would be gone.She trusted his confidence in himself, in the men around him, intheir training. They were the best and the best didn't fail.

There had been no welcome home.

A training accident. That was what the Navy officially said asit buried her husband with full military honors and handed herthe folded flag.

She knew they were lying. A training accident didn't bring herhusband home in a sealed coffin and bring Nick's commandingofficer, Lieutenant Joe Baker, home nursing a bullet woundthrough his shoulder. She never tried to break the understoodcode of silence to learn the truth. They were SEALs, and she hadbeen a SEAL's wife. The truth was classified.

She nearly dropped the flag when they handed it to her. Shehad not been able to see her husband; the coffin remained sealed.They handed her the flag he had fought to defend, folded neatand tight with no red showing. It had been prepared by the menin uniform with a solemness of ritual that would allow no slacknessin the fabric or imperfection in a fold. They gave her his flagbecause they could not give her back the man; they gave her hisflag to stand in his place. Their salute honored the man, the flaghis service, the taps his passing. And it hit her in that instant, thefact Nick was gone for good.

Looking into the eyes of the hurting men of SEAL Team Nineas the funeral concluded, looking into the solemn eyes of menwho grieved with her, she was assured that her husband had donehis job and not let them down. They were not able to share it inwords, but they all shared that truth in their expressions. Sheclung to the fact Nick died doing what he loved. Under her owngrief she was grateful for that.

And yet the pain that had come in the passing days andmonths ripped deeper than anything she had ever felt. Her lifehad changed forever. She missed Nick more than words couldexpress. The men of SEAL Team Nine had replaced him becausehis was a profession that required another to stand in the gap ofone fallen. They went on while they always remembered. But noone could replace him for her.

The medallion she wore, Nick's eagle, slapped against her inthe waves. She reached for it with one hand, grabbing hold, gratefulnow she had secured the chain so she could wear it in thewater. It had traveled with Nick through five years of missions.Now it was her closest reminder of him.

"People drown because they panic."

She clung to the words Nick had so often said. During SEALtraining the instructors tied his hands and feet and dropped himinto the deep end of the pool for thirty minutes doing varioustasks-the drown-proof test. Nick knew what he was talkingabout. He just hadn't told her how hard it was not to panic.

Relax. Do your job.

Nick would wonder why she was panicking when she'd beentrained for hard tasks such as this. She put her energy into judgingthe swells, riding them up to scan the surrounding water. Theboy had been south of her the last time she had seen him.

There!

She surged toward him with a hard crawl, willing to use thelast of her energy, knowing this might be her last chance beforedarkness fell.

The teenager had been surfing with a friend; both boys gotinto trouble in the heavy surf. She went into the water to back upher partner. Alex reached them first, securing a hold on one boybleeding from a gash on the forehead and pushing his float boardto the other boy. As Alex headed toward the shore towing theinjured boy, she went for the other teen, not surprised when inhis panic he fought her. At the same instant she got hit in the eye,they hit the riptide. The sea tore them apart.

The sea helped her this time, tossing her the last few feet. Shesnagged the boy's arm as she slammed past him, spun into him,the wave breaking over her head and into her face. She coughedhard, struggling to clear her lungs as she held on for all she wasworth. She was not going to lose him again.

The fight had gone out of the teen. The...