Invincible

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Liberty. Finally, a night off. Fuck yeah!

Petty Officer 2nd Class Victor Gonzales slicked some gel into his dark brown hair and slathered on some after-shave. “Hey, Walsh—you wanna go to that club tonight? Near the plaza?”

Another tourist hotspot in picturesque Curaçao—drunken college girls on spring break, wayward daughters escaping their parents on family cruises. I had no desire to spend my first night on land in seven months making small talk, hoping to get lucky. I wanted a sure thing, with no strings.

“No thanks, man. I’m just going to head on into town and get a bite to eat.”

Petty Officer 2nd Class Kyle Lawson trimmed his short black beard and nodded toward me. “You sure? You’re my wingman, bro. Vic over here can never close the deal.”

Vic threw the bottle of hair gel at Kyle. “Fuck you, Kyle. I have standards—I just don’t sleep with every girl who blinks my way.”

Yeah, I definitely needed to go solo tonight, even though the three of us always made our mark when we hit the town. Three United States Navy SEALs didn’t exactly blend in with the local tourists. We were all ripped, especially since on deployment we spent all our free time in the ship’s gym. Vic’s huge arms were decorated with tattoos. Stupid motherfucker, identifying markers weren’t a plus in the Teams. He’d never make SEAL Team Six. And at six feet five inches tall, former NFL linebacker Kyle towered over Vic and me, though we could hardly be considered short since we both measured in at over six feet. People would stop Kyle all the time and ask him for an autograph, thinking that he was a Hollywood movie star or a rapper. Not to mention, the two of them looked like a walking Navy SEAL diversity outreach recruitment poster, with me standing out as the blonde-haired, blue-eyed white boy.

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