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  Caught in the Net

  The General's Daughter Book 3

  By

  Breanna Hayse

  ©2014 by Blushing Books® and Breanna Hayse

  All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Blushing Books®,

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  Hayse, Breanna

  Caught in the Net

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-62750-1811

  Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

  Table of Contents:

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Breanna Hayse

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  Chapter 1

  The Quimby family returned home late one evening, after a long, leisurely meal, and was bombarded by the loud ringing of the house phone.

  “General Jenkins, may I help you?” Scott answered. He started to frown, beckoning to the others. “Yes, enter the coordinates in the transmitter and they’ll be there shortly. Yes, I understand. Yes, I have the dive officer here as well and will inform him. Bye.”

  “What’s going on?” Dr. Quimby asked, eyeing his children as Scott opened his laptop.

  “Go get your suits on, kids; you’ve got some work to do. Vessel gunned down off the Baja coast. Took two men hostage and was last seen heading into deep water. Sorry, no sleep for you tonight. You know what we need to do.”

  “Rescue and capture. Gotcha,” Michael said, suppressing an excited grin as he raced up to his room with his sister. It had been a long time since the two young lieutenants had been sent out on a mission. They were down in minutes, adjusting the suits and headgear. Finally! This was what they were trained for.

  “The coordinates are in your transmitter. Keep in touch with us,” Scott ordered with a concerned expression.

  After a quick goodbye, the two raced down to the dock and dove into the black water. They were met shortly by the young orca, which safely transported the Special Forces team to deep water and away from obstacles. With Ton's help, they started ranging the cetacean populations to assist with locating the vessel. Three hours later, they had visual; however, there were no cetaceans in sight. Even Ton disappeared a few miles back, an event Michael immediately noted as odd. Sensing nothing unusual from his sister, he remained silent and kept his eyes peeled. Something was not right and his instincts sent warning flags to keep alert.

  Quietly, the two came up under a 17 foot cruiser with double engines and small dive platform. They edged along the sides, listening for voices. When nothing was heard, the two silently pulled themselves onto the vessel from opposite sides. One man stood guard with his back to the bow and was completely unaware as Michael snuck up behind him like a jungle cat, rendering him unconscious with a single blow to the back of the neck with his elbow. After dragging the body to the side, Michael nodded instructions for Samantha to slip below deck.

  She found the two hostages tied together on a bunk and gently woke them, placing her fingers over their mouths to keep them silent. After slicing the rope with her knife, she gestured for them to follow and started up the ladder. The hard barrel of a rifle slammed into the center of her chest.

  “So, what do we have here? Some beautiful mermaid washed upon my ship to pleasure me?” the man asked in Spanish, running the tip of his weapon to trace the outline of her breast.

  “The only pleasure you will have is going to sleep,” Michael answered back in Spanish, throwing his elbow into the base of the man’s neck and stepping out of the way as the assailant collapsed limply to the deck.

  “You really like that elbow thing, partner. Thanks.” Sam helped the captives out of the hatch.

  “No prob. How many others are there?” Michael asked the men.

  “Four when we started, but we’ve only seen these two. Who are you?”

  “Introductions later. Let’s get off this ship. I’m not comfortable being here. Something seems wrong.” Michael shoved them towards the stern of the vessel while looking over his shoulder for his sister. She was right behind him, grabbing life preservers from the cabin.

  “We can’t jump in the middle of the ocean! How would we ever get to shore?”

  “If the lieutenant says something is wrong, we listen. Now, get the hell off this boat!” Sam said, urging them towards the platform and pointing to the water as she tossed the rings in. “Go! NOW! Mike?”

  “Just putting a tracer for pickup. Okay, clear out.”

  They dove over the side and, after securing their charges in the flotation devices, used their propulsion boots to quickly place some distance between them and the boat. Michael slowed their course once they were about a mile from the boat and paused to check on the condition of the victims. Mid-sentence, the sound of an explosion reached their ears and a plume of orange flames jumped up from the black waters.

  “Holy shit,” one of the men muttered.

  Sam looked towards her brother, unable to see his expression under the dark overcast sky. She felt his hand find hers and squeeze it gently. “I’m so glad we listened to you,” she whispered. “How did you know?”

  “Why leave two people to guard two hostages and head out to open sea? This is the maritime version of guerrilla warfare. Don’t you remember Scott teaching us military history?”

  “It was one of those subjects I tuned out. Maybe next time I better pay more attention. One more thing for Scott to rub in our faces.” She forced a laugh.

  “Let him rub. That story just saved our lives. How are they doing?”

  “We need to get these men out of the water; they are getting too cold. And they are scared to death.”

  “I’ve already transmitted for air support, so a helo should be on its way. Are you okay?”

  “Tired, but fine. It would have been nice, though, if you would have let me knock out one of those jerks. You always get all the fun,” she teased, sensing his return smile. Sam then swam over to the floating men. “Are you guys all right? I know it’s cold. We are hoping that the rescue copter will be here shortly. I can get you out of the water if you like, it might be more comfortable.”

  “How can you do that? There’s no land in sight,” one of the men asked, his teeth chattering. “And what about sharks?”

  “You need to trust me. Don’t panic, everything is fine. My other partner is coming to help us. I’m Lt. Samantha Quimby and this is Michael, my brother. We're Special Forces. Now, keep calm,” she ordered softly as Ton approached them, his rigid straight dorsal fin slicing the water with deadly grace. He circled the four, pressing his pectoral fin against the newcomers. Images of fish and seals swimming away from a hunt touched her mind. The men were terrified.

  “I promise, you are safe. He’s goi
ng to come under you to lift you up. I want you to grab his dorsal fin and pull yourself onto his back.”

  “It’s a fucking killer whale!”

  Michael braced himself between them. “Just get on the darn thing before you die of hypothermia. And please remember there is a lady present,” he ordered firmly, snapping them out of their panic.

  They muttered “yes, sir” and gasped as the whale surged from below and raised them out of the water. A pair of porpoise joined the team, allowing the two Quimbys to hold their dorsals as they swam behind the orca. Michael called a halt as the sound of the oncoming helicopter roared towards them.

  After hauling the two men up into the hold, the crewmen helped the team inside and handed everyone warm blankets and coffee. Corpsmen checked the condition of the rescued hostages.

  “A lady present?” Sam questioned, yawning as she leaned against her brother. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, squeezing her tightly as he nodded. “You're funny when you get bossy, you know.”

  “I'm just grateful you're safe. Try to grab some shut-eye.”

  “Not tired.” She yawned again, snuggling closer for warmth.

  The sun was in full bloom by the time Michael and Sam finished escorting their charges to the hospital and completing their reports. They opted to fly back with the helo and disembarked in the open water near their home. They dragged themselves onto the beach, cold, wet and tired, and headed straight for the Jacuzzi, leaving their wetsuits and gear in their wake.

  “Man, this feels good. I'm beat,” Michael said, sinking chin deep into the hot water.

  “Mmm... you must be tired. I can’t ever remember seeing you leave anything on the floor for any reason.”

  “Be nice. I guess the folks left for work already.”

  “That's obvious, Sherlock. You don't see them hanging all over us, do you? Did you call them to tell them we were on our way home after report?”

  “Not yet. You know it means the third degree and I am so not in the mood,” Michael sighed, dialing HQ via transmitter.

  “Jenkins. Are you all right? How's Sam? What happened?”

  “Hey, Scott. Everything's fine. We’re just tired.” Michael forced his voice to sound patient, hoping his uncle would catch the hint.

  “Fine? Damn it, Mike, I got the report from the guard commander. I hear you had a close call.”

  “It wasn't that bad. Our timing was good.” Michael rolled his eyes as he mimed for his sister, making a gesture as though he were hanging himself. “Please stop worrying so much. We had some subtle warning from the cetaceans, which helped us. I would like some help processing a few tests using live weaponry and the pod's ability to sense it.”

  “What?” his sister yelled, rising out of the water.

  Michael held up his hand for her silence. “I’ll explain later, Scott. I'm too tired to think right now. We need to catch some sleep, and then we’ll be in. I’ll see you around 1400.” After saying his goodbyes, he turned to his fuming sister. “Now, kiddo, hear me out before you blow a gasket. You trust me, right?”

  “How could you even think of putting the pod in danger?”

  “I will put the pod in danger before I put you in danger. However, you need to be quiet and listen. I need to know if they have a way to detect a live bomb and if they are able to tell when it might go off. Ah ah, no interruptions; let me finish. I know they don’t have the concept of time like we do, but they are able to determine when a cow is going to calf, almost to the minute. They know when the migrations are to start, despite fluctuations in water temperature or saline levels.”

  “I can’t support this. I will make certain that they know what you are doing and to stay away.”

  “Then you cannot be on this team,” Michael said, leveling his eyes on her.

  Her mouth fell open in shock. “You don’t mean that!”

  “I mean every word. Now get upstairs and grab some sleep. We’ll talk about this more when we have had some rest and can discuss this more rationally. You did a good job last night, by the way. Thank you.”

  “I ALWAYS do a good job and your noticing it is not going to change my mind! I don’t want to hear it. Good night,” she stomped away.

  Michael chuckled, towel drying off before heading upstairs. No reason to push it now, she’ll understand after taking some time to think it through. He hoped.

  * * * * *

  Michael glanced at his sister as she sat next to him in his Jag on the way to work. She was sunk down in the seat with her arms crossed and a huge scowl on her face. He shook his head, turning on the radio. He’d barely parked, when she stormed out of the car and headed straight to the lab. She ignored the greetings as she flew by, slamming the door to her office and dropping the blinds. Michael entered shortly afterwards, answering the brief questions from his crew about the night before.

  Frank handed him a cup of coffee. “Looks like you could use this, Mike. What’s going on with the Siren?”

  “Temper tantrum, like always. She’s pissed at me.”

  “What did you do?”

  “What makes you think I did anything? Gee... you know, some support from you gentlemen would be greatly appreciated now and then.”

  “Yes, but you don't scare the shit out of us,” Frank grinned.

  “For crying out loud, she's a shrimp! She barely reaches your armpits.”

  “But she's a cute shrimp... with sharp pinchers. You know we can't take sides against her.”

  “Amazing. One day I will find out how she manages to elicit such loyalty,” Michael grunted, eyeing the rest of the crew who were pretending to be working. “I bite too, you know.”

  “Yes, sir. But you don't look as good in a bikini,” Nick stated from across the room.

  “I see where this is going. Anyway, thanks for the coffee. Don’t let Scott taste it; he’ll dump it in the toilet. We really need to discover her secret to making this shit palatable. Yet another of her skills.” Michael grinned. He tapped on the door to his sister’s office and waited. No answer. He tried the door and found it locked. He glanced again at her crew; Frank and Nick both shrugged before turning away.

  Michael settled into his desk chair to start running his report on a grid. He glanced at the wall where the two offices shared a window, seeing his sister glowering into her computer. She had locked their adjoining door to prevent his entry and still looked tired and very cranky. Chuckling, he quickly finished his report and jotted a note on a piece of paper. He held it against the window and tapped on the glass. She looked over and made a face.

  I love you, the note read. He scribbled another one. Want to go for ice cream after work?

  She made another face, turning back to her computer. Michael smiled, time for the big guns to come out. He held up another note. We could go shopping. My treat.

  There, a little smile formed on her lips. She rolled her eyes, nodding, and then went back to work. Michael laughed; the shopping bribe worked every time!

  Shortly afterwards, Scott entered the lab, pausing before he ventured up to the offices. He pointed to the drawn shades in his niece’s room. “What’s with that?”

  “Don’t know, sir. She probably had a tough night and was still out of sorts. You know how she gets if she hasn’t had her beauty sleep,” Frank smiled.

  “Wicked witch of the west. Yes, I know very well. She’s just like me,” Scott commented proudly, as he walked up the stairs and tapped on his nephew’s door before entering. Michael looked up and smiled, standing to hug his uncle.

  “How are you doing this beautiful day?” Scott asked, squeezing Michael tightly.

  “Great, if I could breathe. You cracked my whole spine with that bear hug.”

  “As intended. What’s with Little Miss Sunshine?”

  “Tired, cranky and pissed at me. I’m going to take her shopping after work to cheer her up.”

  “Hmmm, reward for lousy behavior? I don’t remember doing that for either of you,” Scott frowned.

  Mich
ael shrugged, offering him a chair. “Yeah, and now you see what I have to deal with because of your lack of sensitivity. Coffee? I made it.”

  “No thanks. I would like to keep what I had for lunch in my stomach. So tell me your idea about the pod and bomb work.”

  Michael explained wanting to investigate the sensory abilities of the cetaceans. He reported noticing the absence of cetaceans within a mile of the bombsite, which, in the case of Sam, was an unheard of occurrence. He emphasized that his intent was purely detection, not to place any of the animals in harm’s way, and that it would depend on Sam's cooperation and communication abilities, which she had adamantly refused.

  “Let me guess; that is the reason why Her Highness has locked herself in her tower. To mope.”

  “Why else? She not only refused to discuss the idea, but also threatened to warn the cetaceans away from helping me. I actually had to threaten to take her off my team. That was the final straw in being pissed at me. She hasn’t spoken to me since.”

  “She’s got a bit of a temper, that one,” Scott clucked, his expression exhibiting pride.

  Michael threw a piece of balled up paper at him. “Your fault. Funny how you think her temper is wonderful, when directed at anyone but you. Why couldn’t she have inherited the calm, quiet level-headedness of Dad’s side?”

  “But life would be so boring then. Let’s see how stubborn she’s being.” Scott stood and tapped on the glass. The girl rolled her eyes, thinking it was her brother again, and ignored it. Scott tried again, a little louder. Sam still did not look up. He then smashed his face to the glass and blew his mouth against it while banging loudly. She looked over and stared for a moment before breaking into laughter. She beckoned to him and unlocked her side of the door.

  Scott scooped her into his arms for another big bear hug before putting her into her chair and pulling one up to face her. She bit her lip; this chair to chair thing usually meant a talking to.

  “How did it go last night?”

  “Fine, no problems. Where’s Daddy?”

  “Stuck in a meeting. He’ll be by when he’s done. So, what’s going on between you and your brother?”