Aberlour assumed Clarence would listen to his commanding officer and this fight would be one and done with a single punch. But it appeared that Aberlour was wrong.
Clarence barreled past his captain, shoving him forward and right into Aberlour. The two fell to the floor and Clarence took advantage by grabbing Oliver and giving him a solid right hook, his fist connecting with the side of Oliver’s jaw. Oliver howled, but turned quickly, grabbing Clarence to put him in a head lock just as the rest of the SEAL team joined in the fun. Of course, at the sight of their captain falling on top of Aberlour, they’d assumed that O’Reilly was also part of the attack on Team Specter. At that point, it became a free-for-all, and everyone on both teams jumped into the fray.
“Fuck!” Captain O’Reilly growled as he stood up. He reached down to help Aberlour up, then began dragging his own SEAL team members away from Aberlour’s men.
“Enough! Stand down!” Captain O’Reilly yelled at the top of his voice, but it appeared to have no effect.
Aberlour pulled Marcus from the melee. “Take a walk!” he barked at him. The man’s lip was split and bleeding but otherwise he appeared unharmed.
“Now!” he added, before Marcus could argue.
“SEAL TEAM 2!” Captain O’Reilly roared, his voice booming over top of the curses and growling of all the men. Suddenly, all the SEALs froze. “That’s enough!”
The SEALs and Team Specter backed off from each other, except for Clarence and Oliver. Oliver had to forcefully jerk free of Clarence’s grip, which had left red handprints on Oli’s neck.
Aberlour could barely think straight as he checked him over for any serious injuries. Oliver looked like he’d gone a few rounds with a wolverine. A black eye, a split lip, and several red marks on his neck. Aberlour tasted metal in his mouth as he grabbed Oli’s shoulders, growling, “What the fuck!” He kept his voice low but could see Captain O’Reilly doing much the same with Clarence.
“Wouldn’t let me pass,” Oliver snarled through gritted teeth.
“Try again,” Aberlour prompted, his gaze scrutinizing Oliver’s face for any hint of a lie. Oliver Darling didn’t lie. He might withhold information. But lie, never. Not to Aberlour.
“Count yourself lucky you’re off the boat tomorrow. I’d love to show you how I make pretty boys scream,”Oliver said. It took a moment for Aberlour to realize he was quoting Clarence verbatim.
“Dismissed!” he barked at Oliver, nodding towards the exit at the other end of the mess hall. Oliver narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to argue but Aberlour didn’t let him.
“You’re dismissed, Staff Sergeant!”
Oliver muttered a vicious curse under his breath but exited the mess hall.
Marcus came up to talk to Aberlour, but he shook his head and raised a hand for silence.
“All of you. Now. Get the fuck out of my sight,” he ordered through clenched teeth, barely holding onto his temper.
Either because they could tell just how angry Aberlour was, or because they knew they’d fucked up, none of his men protested. They turned, looking like kicked puppies, most of them bleeding and sporting bruises, and left the mess hall silently. When Aberlour turned around, he found Captain O’Reilly standing right behind him, staring at him as if he was the scourge of the earth.
“Your man was out of line,” he said, obviously furious. “Give me one fucking good reason not to report him to Major General Dockland,” he told Aberlour. The rest of his team had gathered near the entrance to the dining hall, talking among themselves, but sneering at Abe whenever he looked their way.
“Go right the fuck ahead, Captain,” Aberlour invited with a humorless smile as he stepped closer and lowered his voice so only O’Reilly could hear him. “That way, I can tell Rear Admiral Marchand how your second-in-command has been sexually harassing mine since we stepped foot on this ship. Including following him to the men’s room like a goddamned sexual predator.”
The ball was now squarely in O’Reilly’s court.
To Abe’s surprise, the captain didn’t look surprised or shocked at all. Instead, he looked defeated. His jaw tightened and he glanced over at Lieutenant Clarence who was leaning against the wall, gaze focused on the floor, arms crossed over his chest.
“So, this isn’t the first time he’s pulled this shit,” Abe guessed, looking smug.
Captain O’Reilly looked back up at Aberlour and took a deep breath.
“Scuffles happen. You’re off the ship in the morning, so, let’s—agree to bury it,” he suggested.
Aberlour nodded, but he wasn’t done yet, and Captain O’Reilly knew it. He stood there and waited to hear what else Aberlour had to say.
“The asshole doesn’t deserve his rank. You’ll let him tarnish the SEAL name? Really?” Aberlour demanded, daring to stand his ground.
“Don’t ask, don’t tell is over,” O’Reilly reminded him.
“I don’t give a fuck where your guy likes to stick it—harassment is harassment, and we both know that!” Aberlour replied, voice still low, anger still controlled.
O’Reilly took a moment to consider his words but gave a nod of understanding.
