“It’s too big a risk,” Chase argued. “Francisco and Ryerson are still gunning for Kincaid. What if Gray’s caught in the crossfire?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” she mumbled, realizing too late she probably wasn’t helping her case.
“Kincaid can handle it,” Adam said from New York.
They had to agree. They had no choice. Of those who thought they had some say in the matter, Chase was the only dick still putting up a fight.
Persistent fucker.
It burned her ass. Six days ago, she answered to no one. Today, four men who were practically strangers debated her next move like she was a wayward child who needed constant supervision.
For Christ’s sake, before Chase had dragged her to the colonel’s Texas base camp, she made her own decisions. She didn’t need their concern or their protection. She needed to get her ass in gear and get to Tara at the warehouse in Savannah.
All she needed was an address, and she’d take care of the rest. The clock ticking, Gray could hear the JTT packing. After strategizing their next move, the colonel had doled out assignments and dismissed the troops. As soon as the last directive had been given, they’d scattered to execute their orders.
With a battle still ahead of her, Gray had dogged her father’s footsteps. The twin towers of oh-hell-no had dogged hers. At first, it was a close tie as to who Gray wanted to knee in the nuts most, Chase Mackenzie or Grant Kincaid.
But the longer Rambo argued, the closer he got to the top of her ball-busting list. So far, Rusty Eyes had remained curiously silent. Face impassive, arms crossed over his chest, Grant neither agreed nor disagreed with her proposal.
Tara was in Savannah. Bodak in New York with her brother. There was minimal risk if Grant brought her to the warehouse under the pretext of following orders. With everything going down in the next thirty-six hours, Bodak would be required to remain with Adam. And Johnson would be thrown off his game.
It was the best scenario possible under the circumstances.
Her father had been the first to give in. Followed closely behind by her brother. They both saw the value in letting her go. It had the dual benefit of getting her out of their hair and messing with Johnson’s head. If the bastard was willing to kill Grant to keep her out of Bodak’s hands, it was exactly where she should be.
They knew it as well as she did.
And they were wasting precious time.
The pang in her chest felt like a twelve-inch blade piercing her heart. It was less than she deserved. According to the information Doc had received from Adam’s man in Savannah, Tara had severe head and neck trauma. She was going to die. It was just a matter of time.
The longer they stood there, the faster the clock wound down. Tara had already suffered too much in her short life. And Gray would be damned if she’d let her only friend die alone in a warehouse because of her.
She cut off the argument still going on around her. “It makes perfect sense, and you know it.” She met Chase’s eyes, needing him to believe her. “If Tara dies before I get there. I swear to God, Chase Mackenzie, I will never forgive you.”
His black eyes searched hers, and she could see he knew she meant it. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to matter to him in the least, and his expression didn’t change. Feeling the weight of another set of eyes on her, Gray looked to Grant.
Her lips tingled with the memory of their kiss. She pressed them together as her offer slammed into her frontal lobe. She’d sworn to do anything he asked if he’d take her to Tara. His answer had been no, and looking at him now, she wasn’t sure his response would change.
She turned her back on both of them and took her last shot. “Adam, we’re running out of time. Kincaid works for you. Just order him to do it.”
“I can’t order him, Gray. So knock it off. It’s up to Kincaid.” Had Adam been in the room, and seen the look on Sergeant Mackenzie’s face, he might have reconsidered his choice of words.
Unfortunately, her fatherwasin the room and knew all too well what his sergeant’s black eyes and muscle-twitching jaw indicated. But before Chase could set the record straight, according to his “you belong to me” view of the world, the colonel took over the meeting.
“The decision is Mackenzie’s,” her father said, holding up a palm and cutting off her outburst before Gray could dispute the misguided statement at top volume. “If I were you, Grace, I would let these two”—he waved his hand between tower one and tower two—“discuss the options without your cantankerous presence in the room. They both know where you stand on the matter. Adam, Mann is waiting on the financials from you. Start making the transfers. Mackenzie will call you back when the decision’s been made.”
Limit reached, the colonel abruptly ended the debate with a stab of his finger. “Gentlemen, you have thirty minutes to work this out. Sergeant, your orders stand. Keenan’s are negotiable. Your call. We’ll be in the kitchen having a bite to eat. Find us there.”
Her father took her by the arm, escorting her from the room without another word. Shocked into submission and perhaps in awe of his command for the first time, she didn’t think to resist.
The hallway a hive of activity, boxes and equipment already took up the limited floor space. The colonel was shutting down Defcon One and moving operations to a new location. By morning, there wouldn’t be any trace left of the men who’d made the old camp their home away from home for the last two years.
According to her father’s original orders, she was supposed to be leaving for the new base with Z by zero six hundred. As much as she looked forward to a very quiet twenty-four-hour drive, he was headed in the opposite direction of her primary goal.
Not fucking happening.
Catching sight of Jay rounding a corner with the computer from Doc’s office, the colonel called out, “Mann.”
