She sighed, glancing at her husband, who tried to look like he wasn’t watching his wife.
“When Foster was assigned to Alpha as team leader, he was pissed. He thought Adam should’ve been given the number one spot. His dad told him to suck it up and take the promotion. Foster and Parker both wanted to follow in their dad’s footsteps, but Foster hates differential treatment, which is what he felt the bump to Alpha was.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked as my mind swirled with the reasons behind Julie confiding in me.
She laughed. “I figured you should know Foster felt he wasn’t the right person for the job on Alpha. Plus, I’ve always liked you.”
“How’d you come to that conclusion?”
The teams socialized some, but with the rotating deployment and training schedules, we didn’t get together a lot. Foster, we’d known, of course, because we’d worked with him off and on overthe years. Separate teams and not as a team leader, but we knew him. Julie and the kids? They were passing acquaintances.
“People talk, Brock, and any time you’ve been at a function with the families, you’ve watched your language, for the most part.” She laughed, then continued. “But you’ve played with the kids, broken up a couple of fights, and my dogs love you. Which I consider the highest endorsement.”
She stood and walked back to Foster. She paused on the way to scold two of the kids, who were fighting over a video game. She settled on Foster’s lap. He kissed her forehead, then whispered in her ear.
“What are y’all playing?” I asked as the disgruntled voices of two boys increased from the low hum it had dropped to after their mom had gotten after them to nails on a chalkboard level.
Their heads popped up, and two mini Foster Holts stared back at me. I raised my eyebrow, cocking my head. They whispered to one another in a rapid exchange. Then they turned back.
“God of War,” they said simultaneously.
I smiled.
“Hmm. Are you any good?” I asked, grabbing my bag.
They looked at each other. They never spoke. Then they looked back at me.
“Of course.” Synchronized like little robots, or maybe even clones.
I laughed. Little smartasses. They were definitely their father’s kids. I pulled out my game system and held it out to them. “I trust y’all know how to not mess with my saved games?”
They stared at me, then looked at one another, then back at me before glancing at their parents. Foster nodded, and they jumped forward.
Shit! They even move in tandem.
The rest of the flight was blissfully silent of sibling bickering. Foster’s daughter was reading, and the oldest two boys were playing chess. The team had all settled down to sleep, and their grunts, groans, and snores were a harmony that had lulled me to sleep for years. I reclined my seat, closed my eyes, and fell asleep. My thoughts and dreams centered on Adam. I prayed for him, begging whoever was listening to watch over him. I also sent all the steadfast vibes I could.
A couple of hours later, a hand landed on my shoulder. I jolted awake and looked up into the eyes of Admiral Matthew Holt. I’d seen several photos of him over the years, but even without those pictures, I’d have known him anywhere. He was an older version of Foster and Foster’s older brothers, Walker and Parker.
“Looks like you slept well,” he said as he sat down in the seat across from me.
I glanced around the plane. It was empty.
“I sent them on ahead of us. You and I need to talk.”
I sat up, scrubbing the sleep from my face. “About, sir?”
Matthew Holt was smirking at me when I looked back at him. “Your future. And Adam’s.”
Shocked, I gazed at him, not blinking and barely breathing. What did he mean by my future and Adam’s?
“Admiral, Mama called,” Foster called through the open door as he came up the stairs of the plane.
The admiral growled. “That woman. I love her more than the air in my lungs, but…”
Foster stepped into the room with us, waving and pointing at his phone. “She said to get your ass back to the ranch that you could steal my SEALs at another time.”
I coughed to cover a laugh and grabbed my gear.
