“So, when Hopper and I go in on these colonias…?”
Omar puts up his hand. “I’m going to stop you right there. You andHopperaren’t going anywhere together.”
“Why not?” Anders asks, genuinely confused.
Nobody else is confused, and I’ve known Hopper for all of seven minutes.
“Hopper is untested with this team and a lot’s riding on this. Hopper comes with me,” Omar says definitively. “Anders, you go with Max.”
“Wait—how did I get stuck with Anders?” Max asks, ribbing him.
“Because you drew the short straw. Also, Rae said you left the dishes in the sink last night and I should punish you somehow.”
Max pushes his lips out. “This is what happens when your partner is your commanding officer.”
Omar turns back to Hopper and Anders. “Also? No counting your kills over comms. It’s crass. You’re both pretty, you’re both deadly, and, Hopper, you have to know Anders has way more kills than you could make up for in a lifetime.”
If I’m not mistaken, that’s pride in his voice.
Hopper scrunches his nose. “Guess I’ve got some catching up to do.”
I step in next to Omar, whispering, “Something tells me you just waved a red flag in front of a serial killer.”
Grimacing, Omar agrees. “You might be right about that.”
Once we’re done, we head over to the bunkhouse for dinner. When we arrive, Charlie, Nacho, Levy, and Ant are finalizing their plans and Bram is setting up the table like a buffet. The rest of us pull the dining chairs into the living room so we can all eat together. Levy scoots his chair closer to me, basically ensuring we’re touching from shoulder to feet as we juggle our paper plates.
“You feel good about these guys?” he asks, taking in the living room full of muscle-bound operatives.
“I do. Hopper is a bit of a wild card, but he’s still in the good column.”
“Damn straight I am,” Hopper says, sneaking in from the side, gnawing on a chicken leg.
I startle at his sudden appearance, but Levy laughs and asks, “You looking forward to this?”
“Hell yeah. I love killing bad guys. It’s a little disappointing that we’ll have to be fast and quiet, but, you know, greater good or whatever,” he says, shrugging as he walks off.
Levy’s eyebrows rise as we watch him sit next to Nacho and start up a conversation.
“That one’s going to be a problem.”
* * *
We’reall sitting in Wimberley’s big Learjet when Ant’s therapist joins us…then starts walking toward the cockpit.
“You’re a pilot?” I ask as she and Ant exchange hugs.
“I always love the tone of concern when somebody asks me if I’m a pilot,” she says, grinning.
“How does that compare to the tone of concern one has when they’ve actually flown with you before?” Anders jokes, joining us.
“You want to ride up front with me, Bash?” she threatens.
Anders quickly sits next to his husband and makes a big deal of putting on his seat belt. “I’m trying to live because I still haven’t made the mile-high club.”
“Now, darling, you know that’s not true,” Omar says, placing his hand on Anders’ knee.
Anders lights up at the memory and whispers something in Omar’s ear. He runs a finger down Anders’ nose. “Exactly.”
