SIX YEARS AGO SOME of America’s finest and most elite warriors were called into action. Four decorated Navy SEALs left their families behind to rescue a young girl who had been sent to Cuba in a sex trafficking ring being run by Tacito Rento and funded by US Senator, Ted Lawson.
The girl in question is Abigail Chesley, the granddaughter of Brigadier General, Harold Chesley, who called in a favor to Admiral Jonah Ingram. Unbeknownst to Chesley, Ingram is the father of Ted Lawson, the man responsible for kidnapping his granddaughter.
Captain Gerald O’Keefe sent his highly skilled SEALs into Cuba with what he promised to be a snatch and grab mission, only the rules changed once the SEALs touched ground.
The mission was a success, until the SEALs’ orders changed. Someone at the top didn’t want the warriors to come home and went as far as to declare them dead, except Captain O’Keefe finally had had enough.
When the SEALs returned, their homecoming wasn’t as welcoming as it should’ve been. To their families, they were dead. To their families, they no longer existed. Loved ones moved on, parents accepted their son’s death, wives left town, and some even sought love with others.
The biggest question arose—who had been sending the care packages while they were deployed? And why these four SEALs?
But the damage had been done.
Evan Archer expected to come home to his fiancée waiting for him with their son; instead, he came home to her being engaged to his twin brother, Nate.
Team leader, Raymond “River” Riveria thought his homecoming was perfect, until he found out his wife, Frannie, was the one sending his team care packages.
Justin “Rask” Raskin lost his mother and father who are unwilling to accept that their son hadn’t died and was alive. Despite his attempts, they ignore him.
Tucker McCoy went home, expecting to hug his wife and daughter, only he found a stranger living in his house with the whereabouts of his family unknown.
Unwilling to accept what has happened, Evan Archer sought the help of his fiancées mother, Commander Carole Clarke, JAG lawyer, along with the help of his brother and Nate’s former girlfriend, FBI Agent Cara Hughes, to find out what happened and why they, the four SEALs were targeted. Questions were asked, and the truth was slowly uncovered as the lies began unraveling.
What started off as a mission to rescue a scared little girl, quickly turned into a nightmare of epic proportions, one that still continues.
This is Tucker’s story.
EVERY ONCE IN A while something will come on the television or radio that gives one pause. It’ll make one stop and think. Sometimes that something is life altering. For someone like Amy, that something is the last thing she needs, even if she wants it.
Amy’s husband Ray is grading his eighth grade history mid-terms with the television on in the background. He stops in time to watch a brief news clip on CNN about four Navy SEALs who had been reported dead, but have returned home alive in an apparent cover up. Yet, no one is commenting on the how’s or why’s.
Both reporters for CNN scoff at such a thing and the segment quickly ends. Ray Barnes returns to grading his papers with the thought that this would be a good history lesson.
“Did you see the news?” Ray Barnes asks Amy, as they sit down for breakfast. She looks at him and smiles before shaking her head in between bites of her breakfast.
“No, I fell asleep reading my book last night.” She absentmindedly rubs at a spot on her forehead and laughs. “I think my tablet smacked me in the face.”
“Oh, it did. I can see some bruising there. You may want to cover that up before you go out today. I don’t want anyone thinking I hit you.” He laughs, as he lightly grazes the colored spot on her forehead. Amy knows the last thing he would to is hurt his wife, but living in a small town, simple things like bruises cause people to talk and neither of them want to be topic of conversation at the lunch counter. People know them, and people like to talk, even if Ray is a respected history teacher. Amy has been working at the general store for four years, her second job since moving to Pittsfield. She keeps a low profile and intends to keep it status quo.
Laughing, Amy bats his hand away. “What was on the news that caught your attention?” She stands and carries her empty plate to the sink, turning the faucet on to let the water push the crumbs left over from her toast down the drain.
“Hold on, I’m trying to find it.” Amy walks over to stand behind her husband, resting her hand on his shoulder. Ray opens a web browser on this tablet and types in N-A-V-Y in the search bar before Amy has to move away. Setting her hand over the top of her pink sweater, she tries to calm the discomfort in her stomach. Amy doesn’t want to know what her husband watched last night on the news, but the mention of Navy anything is enough to give her heartburn. She walks back to the sink, holding the edge of their marble counter, taking deep breaths to calm herself down.
“Hmm … I can’t find it. I thought for sure it would be on here,” he states much to Amy’s relief. There was a time in her life when the Navy was everything, but then— No, she can’t think about that right now. That was another life, another time.
“Maybe it’ll be in the paper today. You can show me then.” Her words are choppy. It’s just small conversation, she reminds herself, but her gut is telling her something else.
“It seems there’s a massive conspiracy going on.”
Her tongue feels like it is three inches thicker than it should be. “Hmm,” is all she manages to say.
Amy closes her eyes at her husband’s assumptions, praying he’ll leave it alone, hoping that by the time he returns he’ll have forgotten. But knowing Ray, he’ll bring it up down at the store and someone will have seen something and they’ll start talking. It’ll be all anyone talks about until the next conspiracy comes along. Living in a small town in Vermont, people have too much time on their hands and nothing much to talk about.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Amy says dismissively as she starts filling the sink up with hot water and soap to wash the morning dishes. Dipping her hands in, she picks up Chloe’s cereal bowl and starts washing while listening to her husband argue with his tablet.
“Well it’s definitely something to think about with our military, and something I’d like to teach in class. Anyway, it was about a Navy SEAL who was reported dead, but they found him alive. Damn, I really wish I could find it.”
The moment Ray mentions the words SEAL, dead and alive, the bowl slips from her hand, smashing against the side of the sink and shattering into pieces.
“Shit,” she mumbles, reaching for a towel.
“Are you okay?” Ray asks, immediately at her side and helping her pick up the pieces.
“Um … yeah,” she says, catching her breath. “The bowl slipped. Don’t worry about the mess. Go on, get to work.” Amy pats the back of her husband’s back, encouraging him to leave. “You’re both going to be late.” She didn’t know if her suspicions were right, but wanted Ray and Chloe out of the house as soon as possible.
“We’ll see you later.” Ray kisses his wife briefly on the lips before reaching for his school bag and car keys. “Chloe, let’s go,” he hollers.
Their nine year old comes thumping down their stairs, kissing her mom before following her dad out the door. Amy moves to the window, watching the car, which carries her reason for being, drive down the gravel and dirt driveway. Once they’re out of sight, she lets the tears flow as the panic she had learned to control lets loose.
Picking up her tablet, Amy rushes up the stairs to her bedroom and right into her bathroom, locking the door behind her. She turns on the shower, even though she has no intentions of getting in there right now. The moment her tablet comes to life, she clicks on her web application and types in F-O-U-R-N-A-V-Y-S-E-A-L-S-D-I-E-I-N-C-U-B-A. Her finger hovers over the search button as tears stream down her cheeks. It’s been years since she’s searched this article. Her thumb grazes the button ever so slightly as her eyes close. She’s not sure what she’s going to do if there’s a new link. She opens one eye then the other to read the first line.