Disclaimer: I don't own Casey Sheppard or Finley or any thing that looks as though it could have come from US Seals 2. I guess some people would add a 'fortunately' to that statement but what the heck, I liked the movie! Finley's wife probably does belong to me but I'm not bothered – heck, I didn't even give her a name!

This was written to provide a little more closure to the movie US Seals 2. If you've not seen it…well it should still make sense.

Unbeta'd – so all mistakes are my own

Feedback will be appreciated.



Casey knocked on the door and waited.

He hadn't been at all sure he wanted to do this, but it was the one thing that he had owed Finley. There had been some unspoken promise made and he felt honour bound to keep his word.

The rest of the team – even the major – had been either loners or career soldiers.

Not Finley.

Finley had a family. A wife. A son.

Finley was the sort of man who should have taken his abilities and become something respectable.

He should certainly have never become a SEAL. Of that, Casey had no doubt. Of course, it had been Casey's choice that Finley be invited onto the mission. He could have left him where he was…and had Finley ever found out about it, Casey knew with equal certainty that he would have had to have looked out for Finley for the rest of his life.

The man was a contradiction.

He wasn't violent – and he'd hit you for saying so.

He was deeply Catholic – and would cheerfully quote from the bible while slitting your throat.

Casey supposed someone should have seen the breakdown coming. There was no better man to have at your back than Finley – yet he was dishonourably discharged from the SEALS for assaulting an officer. Two months later and he was charged with attempted manslaughter and sentenced to ten years.

Leaving his wife and son to fend for themselves.

And now he was gone.

Gone thanks to the dreams of a madman.

No. Finley shouldn't have been there – and wouldn't have missed it for the world.

"Can I help you?"

The voice pulled Casey from his wool-gathering. The door had finally opened and standing before him now was Finley's wife. "Uh, good evening, ma'am. I'm a…a friend of Finley's."

The tiny woman gave him the once over. "Since you don't have department of corrections imprinted on your forehead, you have to be from the Navy."

"Yes, ma'am."

Her shoulders sagged. "It's not good news," she stated.

"No ma'am."

She sighed. "You'd better come in, I suppose."

She reluctantly stepped aside and allowed Casey into the modest suburban home. Moments later and Casey found himself perched, nervously, on the edge of a comfortable looking couch. A momentary image formed, of Finley sprawled out on it, beer in one hand, TV remote in the other. Casey shook it off.

"What's happened?" Finley's wife asked. "A week ago, I got a phone call from him, telling me he'd gotten some kind of…dispensation…that he could be home soon." She looked up at Casey. "He's dead. Isn't he?"


Casey could only watch as the little woman before him seemed to slowly sag in on herself.

"I knew," she murmured. "The second I put the phone down, I knew that I wouldn't see him again…and yet it still surprises me." She swallowed, hard. "Were you there?" Casey nodded. "Just…tell me he went down fighting."

Casey nodded again. "He did, ma'am." From his pocket, he pulled the silver chain and crucifix. "He gave this to me – to give to you and his son."

She accepted the items. "Thank you."

Promise kept, Casey felt awkward now – unsure of what else to say. "I…guess…" but she seemed to understand.

"Thank you. I know you didn't have to come in person. I do appreciate it."

Casey nodded. "It was the least I could do."

She gave a hiccup – whether of laughter or tears, Casey couldn't tell. "That was Finley for you. You might want to strangle him sometimes but he could sure command loyalty and respect…" she looked down at her lap. "And love."

Casey nodded once more. "Yes, he certainly could."

Five minutes later and Casey was back in his car, ready to leave and head back to base, but for some reason he lingered a moment longer. It flashed through his mind that he should offer to help – but some how that seemed wrong. The government would look after Finley's family and Finley would have never expected him to help out like that.

No. There had been no exchange of names – just two strangers, bound together for a moment or two by one extraordinary human being.

That was Finley.