Welcome to Mission: Romeo Tango! Your team name is Cricket. Five months ago,
you were hired by the United States Navy as a civilian liaison and walked through the gates of NAB Coronado located on the Silver Strand in San Diego. Today, after being raked over the coals during a three hour evaluation, Captain Redding certifies you. You are now a tactical analyst and combat communications specialist. Your posting is Base Command.
****
Nina Callahan swings a look over her shoulder as you walk into the operations room. The sound of VHF radio chatter and the chill of the AC strikes you first as the containment door of Base Command, constructed of four inches of impenetrable steel, closes behind you.
Nina turns full 
circle in her chair, sitting at the comm position. With red hair and a temperament to match, she’s the most vivacious woman you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. “Spill! Did Captain Redding give you the thumbs up? Did you check out?” She raises an attractive brow. “Come on, if you didn’t pass, my leave won’t be approved.”
You grin because you’ve worked hard for the last five months learning the trade. Back then, your knees shook when you first walked in this room. Overwhelmed with the equipment and the task ahead.
A fresh start.
As you look around the operations room you see radar tracking the fleet on twenty-six inch monitors. Satellite equipment rotating the earth viewed the world in real time. VHF and HF radios stacked beside computers line the consoles in the
dimly lit space. Redundancy is the key element for combining terrestrial and satellite communications for contact with the warriors deployed around the globe. You never thought you could learn how to run Base Command, but you did. The global hub for all the NAVSPECWARCOM operations originating from NAB Coronado.
Wanting to let Nina off the hook, you say, “Guess every long night I spent reading the soul-sapping-dryer-than-hell policy and procedures paid off.”
Nina’s pretty features evolve into a full-blown smile. “Right on! I’m outta here.” She pushes her lithe five-foot-ten frame out of the chair.
“Thank you. I can’t believe you had the patience to get me through this.”
She shrugs. “Hey, I had ulterior reasons.”
“Time with the husband?” you ask.
“And my friend. We’re heading to Hawaii for the Military Games. Mace can knock himself out competing and I’m gonna take the kids to the beach and get a serious burn.”
A phase two class of SEAL recruits are training in the bay. Your ears are now tuned to everything in the room, and you hear the SEAL instructors shouting orders into 
their VHF radios. You imagine the RHIB’s skimming across the waters of Glorietta Bay near the Del, the famous beachfront hotel in San Diego.
The door to the ops room cracks open behind you. “Hey, Cricket. Seen my wife?” Petty Officer Mace Callahan joins you.
“She’s—” Your brows tighten. “She was here a second ago.” You shrug. “Probably gone to the locker room to get her things.”
“Captain Redding says you’re running solo. Congrats!”
“Thanks.” You take a seat in the chair Nina vacated. “Think I’m more nervous now than my first day in training.”
Mace, a SEAL with Hollywood handsome features, grins at you. He and his swim buddy Tinman, aka Tony Bale, worked with SEAL Team Alpha Squad for many years. Now they both instruct the BUD/S course, looking for the next generation of warriors who refuse to ring the bell.
He and Nina married a few years ago. Mace adopted Nina’s daughter Gabbs. Since then, their family grew, adding two sons.
“Hiya, slick.” Nina walks back into the ops room with a pack slung over her shoulder. “I’m ready when you are.”
You want to throw your arms around Nina to stop her from leaving. With a racing pulse, her walking out the door will feel like losing a life preserver in high seas.
Nina laughs, reading your expression correctly. “Listen, you’ve got this. You had this job under your thumb two weeks ago, but we gave you a little more time to build confidence. Don’t worry.” She walks across the raised computer floor hiding a mass of cables attached to each electronic device in the room, and gives you a hug. “You’ve got my number. If shit hits the fan and you need help, text or phone me.”
“Worry! I’m shitting my pants, Nina.”
And then your heart stops dead when the door to the ops room opens and in steps Lieutenant Bach.
Now your pulse is racing for a whole other reason. One, because he’s an active SEAL who belongs to Team One, Alpha Squad. Two, because he probably has business, and three, because your entire body clenches with desire every time he gets within fifty feet of you.
From the second you stepped foot onto the base, you put your attention on the job, striving to be the best damn analyst Command had ever seen. Plenty of men from the base had asked you out, and you refused each one because you wanted to earn respect. The brass was always wary of women who they suspected wouldn’t stick around, only here to find a husband.
You’re not that woman.
“Afternoon.” Lt. Bach’s gaze lands on Nina, Mace and then finally you, where they remain. “Red said you’ve got the con, Cricket.”
Why the hell you ended up with that name was never clearly explained, but apparently it had something to do with your bad habit of rubbing the heels of your palms together when you’re nervous. The urge to do it now makes you grip the arm rests of the padded chair.
“Yes, sir. Road the gauntlet of questions and finished my final evaluation a couple minutes ago.”
His rugged features soften. With jet black hair, his brilliant green eyes are a shocking contrast. Every edge of him is hard and makes you uns
ettled.
“Good for you. The guys were rootin’ for you.”
They were? “Guys?” you ask.
“My men on Team One.” His handsome face cracks into a smile and he winks at you. “Think all the teams approve.”
Keeping a level voice, you calmly say, “Good to know.”
“We’re gone,” Mace says and thumps Bach’s shoulder with a fist on the way out. “Take it easy on her.”
The door closes and the air in the ops room doesn’t seem to fill your lungs enough to breathe as Lt. Bach pulls up a chair and faces you. “Logistics will be here at fifteen hundred hours,” he announces, jumping into business mode.
You nod, waiting for him to explain why he’s here.
“Your attendance is required at the debrief.”
“It is?”
He surveys your face, and you feel like he’s piercing the surface and seeing every insecurity you don’t want him to see.
“It is. Once your relief arrives at three, report to the P. Cobbs boardroom on the second floor.”
If your heart would stop hammering in your chest, you’d probably be able to figure this out for yourself, but like every other single woman on the base who set eyes on Lt. Bach’s Olympian-sized form and brushed against his commanding aura, your inability for clear thinking is nil and void.
He didn’t shred you during your training if you screwed up. With patience, he did the opposite, Lt. Bach suggested an alternate option. You’d seen him in action with his team. Behind his back, the team guys called him Hard-ass Bach. Women on the base did too, but for another reason. His green eyes could cut his men with just a glare. But from what you’ve heard, his men respect and trust him.
“I don’t understand.”
“Because against my better judgement, you’re being asked to join Mission: Romeo Tango.”
You bite your lip. “Romeo Tango?”
“You’re a tactical analyst. We need one on the team for this tasking.”
“Base Command, this is Helo Foxtrot Nine.”
You interrupt your conversation to answer and log the information from a chopper. 
“Foxtrot Nine, Base Command, go ahead.”
“Departed Warner Springs. Enroute NAB. ETA two-zero minutes.”
“Roger, Foxtrot Nine.” You release the button on the mic and slide it back into the metal hook attached to the radio. When you swivel in your chair, Lt. Bach is watching you. “Why me? I mean, shouldn’t it be Nina or one of the other comm experts at Base Command. Nina has more experience than I do. By a long shot.” You swallow, your tongue dry, and add, “By the sounds of it, you don’t have faith that I should be involved either.”
The muscle in Lt. Bach’s jaw flickers, and his gaze latches onto yours. “It’s not that I don’t have faith in you, Cricket. This mission has high potential for contact with a group of Syrian rebels we’ll be looking for in Rio.”
You shrug off his concern. Although your job is usually at the base, Nina warned you could be called into the field. You just didn’t expect it to be this soon. “Has Captain Redding approved this?”
He nods once. “He says you’re ready.”
“I am ready.”
You’re not, but the last thing you’d ever reveal is uncertainty. Not only was it a career killer, but it was deadly to the men in the teams. Each man depends on your intel and combat analysis to give them the upper hand with options before contact.
The Lieutenant rolls his chair closer. Even relaxed, his broad shoulders tell the tale of a worthy adversary the enemy should fear and a fever-inducing man any woman would covet.
“I cancelled my leave because of this mission.”
With little effort, you roll your chair a little farther from him using your toes. “Why? Not because of me.” His gaze digs deeper. You clear your throat and say, “I won’t screw this up, sir.”
A twitch of his firm lips is the only indication that he finds humor in what you’ve said. “I’m not worried about your abilities. I’ll be there because I want you to come home alive, and I don’t trust any man but me to do that.”
Being this close to him, you can smell his aftershave, see the shadow of stubble that’s begun to regrow on his face. Every crease and hard line of his jaw, magnified. Void of a sensible response, you just stare as he rises to his six-foot-two stance.
“See you at fifteen-hundred-hours,” he says.
You watch as he departs the operations room. Vaporous thoughts solidify in your mind as the door clanks shut: Life just got real and you have a lot to gain by seeing this mission through to the end.
****
Next tasking link: RT The Briefing
Cricket! Yes, that’s you. Go to this link to discover the password to the next tasking. https://www.facebook.com/NavySEALfoundation/
What city is the Navy SEAL non-profit organization located? The answer is your password to enter the next tasking.
SITREP: ALL warriors, some words, such as places will be capitalized. If the clue shows you a word capitalized then use it in the password, if not use lower case. If you get lost during the event return to https://nataszawaters.com/ click on the “warriors’ mission” tab and you’ll be back in the game.
