SEALed and Delivered
Not even the sound of footsteps echoed in the Naval Special Warfare Center as Lieutenant Commander Na-thanial "Nate" Peterson led his trainees through the corridor. Each exercise had grown steadily more dangerous, and even though they'd gone over every aspect in the classroom, actuality always heightened the senses. Made the tension more acute.
"Where's the party?" a trainee called laughingly from the back. "I hear you always know."
Nate's shoulders straightened. Strange thing about tension… some soldiers rose to the challenge, some men snapped and some, well, some of them bellowed smartass remarks to their superior.
"You're never going to live that reputation down." Riley laughed quietly beside him. Their steps slowed as they approached the locker area where the men would change into their wetsuits.
Nate shot a disgusted look at the man he'd known since their BUD/S training class. True, Nate had earned a reputation as a man who liked to play hard but he worked just as hard. Harder, actually. And yes, he always knew where the party was. But there was something all SEALs understood, and that was to keep priorities in order.
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