“It’s a fucking mess,” Percival muttered.
“Although,” said Drew, “Noah wouldn’t have given us the heads up if that tip hadn’t come in.”
Rav turned to face Drew, and I couldn’t stop myself from checking out the curve of his ass in his jeans. A wave of heat washed over me, unexpected and unwelcome. Six years, and my body still responded to him like it was yesterday.
I needed distance.
Space.
Air.
I slipped from my seat as the others resumed their discussion of the villa’s geography and made my way toward the front of the jet.
The galley offered a moment of respite. I poured coffee from a carafe into a mug, adding milk and sugar from a small container nearby. From here, I could still hear the briefing going on, see Rav pointing something out on the map. But the physical distance gave me an opportunity to collect myself.
I turned back to watch them as memories kept fighting their way into my consciousness.
Rav and I had been natural. Easy. I’d thought we had something real. Something that would survive beyond our deployment.
Then everything went to hell.
I’d called him once, about a year after the incident. Late at night after too many drinks, loneliness and memories had overwhelmed my better judgment. I’d left him a rambling voicemail about how much I missed him, how I thought about him constantly, how I wanted him back in my life.
He never called back.
Clearly, whatever we’d shared hadn’t been enough for him to want to continue. I was just another fling, a wartime convenience, not someone worth keeping in touch with afterward.
Scarlett left the group and approached me. “Any coffee left?”
“Two or three cups, I think.” I gestured toward the carafe with my mug.
She passed me and poured her own drink. “Did you have a chance to inspect the incursion suits?”
I leaned against the counter, positioning myself where I could observe the whole team while talking to Scarlett. “The quality’s impressive. Better than I expected. The design allows for good mobility while maintaining protection. Your team does quality work.”
“They do.” She added a splash of cream to her coffee. “Have you spoken with your lab contacts in Naples about having them treated?”
“I have an appointment scheduled for tomorrow.”
Scarlett nodded, apparently satisfied.
I glanced back toward the main cabin. “Why isn’t Will with you? I thought he’d be eager to test his equipment in the field.”
“He’s usually support personnel. After what happened at Mnemis, I wouldn’t ask him to come on site again so soon.” She stirred her coffee. “Listen, I know you’re not happy about being with us instead of your team, but we’re friendly.”
“It’s fine.” I pulled my mug closer to inhale the scent. “The mission comes first.”
“I hate rushing in like this.” She shook her head slowly as she dropped her spoon into the sink. “I hate rushing. Period.”
“You mentioned that yesterday.”
“It’s Noah.” She paused, eyeing her mug rather than drinking. “I’ve known him for a long time, but I’ve never heard him like that.”
There was more than they’d told us. I’d seen enough operational briefs to know when someone was holding back a personal story.
She took a sip of her coffee. “Your team from Mnemis—were they all former military?”
“Every one of them.” Maybe that’s why I was more comfortable with them, even though I’d never been a member myself. Protocols, clear chains of command, and defined roles. “It’s been my normal since I started my PhD and went to Syria.”
