The Warfighter, the Storm, and the Moon

Chapter 34: Birthday

'Birthday'

18-Oct-2030, 1600R

Percy Jackson, US Navy, Son of Neptune

DEVGRU

Virginia Beach, Virginia, USA

"If we get arrested, I will pin all of the blame on you, Sharky," Kayak deadpanned from the shotgun seat as we drove to Estelle's school. "Seriously. I will not hesitate. If the cops arrive, I'll sic them on you if it means I'm not going to jail."

"That's a big fat amen from me," Snake grumbled from his place in the back row, with the giant SEAL crammed in some hunting equipment and a cooler full of bear meat. It was no wonder the 6' 5" Texan was so grumpy—he bitched all the time in any sort of vehicle... though in his defense, it's very hard to cram a big-ass slab of muscle like Snake into anything, whether it be a SEAL Delivery Vehicle, side-by-side, or commercial economy seat.

For context, me and the boys decided to get together and have ourselves a troop hunting trip. We found a way to incorporate some training (i.e., tracking, shooting, and other hunting skills that directly transfer to our line of work), but it was mostly for the sake of just having a good time. Delta Team was in top form—which made sense, considering they were our troop's sniper/recce team—while everyone else was a little sluggish. But thanks to Preacher and Snake being the cowboy frogmen they were, we pulled through and had a few laughs. Even Gab, whose ability to chat surpassed that to suppress bad guys, bagged a few squirrels with a .22.

But the fun had to be cut short when I realized that Dad had a doctor's appointment. And since Mom was with him, I had to pick up Estelle. But here's the kicker: since we'd carpooled to our hunting sites, I'd ended up dragging Kayak, Snake, and Preacher along with me. We'd stowed our guns, bows, and knives away, but we were still wearing camo and were absolutely filthy from crawling around in the mud and brush.

"Dude, isn't it Estelle's birthday today?" Kayak asked, making my mind temporarily freeze in realization.

"That makes 'er fifteen, don't it?" Preacher asked from the middle row.

Shit. I forgot.

"Uh... yeah, we're gonna do something about that after we pick her up," I replied distractedly, shaking off my shock. "Yep, we're gonna do something."

"If we don't get arrested first, that is."

"We're not going to get arrested, Kayak."

"Well, all eyes are gonna be on us, just like in 2015."

Oh, how could I forget that? Exactly fifteen years ago today, my task unit had returned from Iraq and had just gone on block leave...

I wasn't sure how, but Kayak managed to get plane tickets to New York right when we'd returned from deployment and been released by our commanders. Unfortunately, as his swim buddy and best friend, that left me to give his ass a lift to the airport (thankfully after we changed into civvies). After sleeping like a baby on the bird, he was as hyper as a puppy dog, excited to get to the Big Apple... something about crashing his little sister's class field trip as a "surprise chaperone," along with his parents.

Was he being an embarrassing older brother? Yep. But considering his near-death experience in Mosul, I was willing to let him live a little... as long as he took videos and pictures of the chaos that would ensue.

As for me, I planned on heading up to New York in a week to see my parents, using the time in between to decompress, readjust to the Romeo time zone, and... well, sleep. Speaking of my parents, I decided to try calling them again. I did so earlier today when we arrived back at Little Creek, but received no reply. It had been a few hours, so I decided to try again—this time garnering success.