Grabbing my beer, I take a long drink and set it back on the table. “So, talk.”
He leans back and sets one hand on his thigh. “Like I told you earlier, I need a pilot, and I’ve already pulled your records. You were one of the best, and that’s what I need.”
Keeping my expression slack, I repeat what he just said. “Wereone of the best.”
He nods, his eyes not wavering from mine. “I read about the fuck-up in Qatar, but that was only a year ago; you look like you’re on the mend. You sure as fuck didn’t have a problem walking your girl into the hallway.”
That he knows Qatar was a fuck-up has my dander up, but I keep my expression the same. “How do you know about Qatar?”
All humor falls from his face, and he narrows his eyes at me. “The same way I get all my information. Things come easier when not following a chain of command or relying on some asshole with higher security clearance to decide if you’re important enough to see the shiny rocks.”
“I’ve been trying to find out what happened in Qatar for a year, only to hit a dead end at every turn.”
Tipping his bottle to take a long drink, his eyes still on mine, he takes his time answering me. “That’s because some high-profile people are involved, and for anyone to know what happened would expose just how bad they fucked up.”
“Who fucked up? What do you know?” The irritation I feel every time I think about the unanswered questions of that mission skitters up my spine. Oddly enough, I also just realize that since Nora drove into my life, I haven’t thought about it as much.
Setting his beer bottle on the table as he sits back in his chair, he taps his finger on the wood. “The bad intel the SEAL team received was transmitted on an encrypted line that we’ve been able to trace back to the DOJ. The U.S. agent they were sent to exfil had gone rogue, and the mission essentially turned into a FUBAR to protect the agent’s cover instead of a recovery.”
My jaw clenches involuntarily, and my grip on my mug tightens. “Who would send two teams into a tactical deception for a traitor?”
“There were multiple, ambiguous moving parts happening at the time, so there’s no clear picture, but from what we have gathered so far, the agent’s whereabouts were leaked, and the danger that was reported back was a cover to allow him to slip away. It wasn’t until they sent your team to assist the SEALs that the agent was outed as a turncoat.”
“So, you have a ton of fucking information, but no names?”
“Like I said, the trail leads back to the DOJ and a contract with a new U.S. company that supplies specialized tactical weapons.”
Trying, but failing, to hide the irritation in my voice, I make a conscious effort to relax my jaw. “Why are you even looking into this?”
His chest rises with a large intake of air and slowly lowers. “I take care of my men. What’s important to them is important to me.”
Leaning back in my chair to mirror his posture, I practically growl. “Do you think dangling a carrot in front of me to push me into a contract with you will make me trust you?”
His smile comes back, and he shakes his head. “Nah. Just thought I would show you some of the benefits of being part of my team.” He looks over his shoulder to the hallway I had Nora in. “I’ve got to piss. I’ll be right back.”
Looking at the wood grain on the table, I think about the information he just dumped on me. Why would a U.S. agent, selling the secrets of a new stateside company, be in Qatar? Playing both sides? And how did he find so much information so quickly?
I’ll call Luke, my previous team leader, tomorrow and see if any of this information resonates with him.
My eyes slide back to the one thing that has become so important in my world and wonder if accepting this job would threaten the fragile connection I’ve made with her. My only hesitation is her.
Military and high-adrenaline jobs have been my life for over a decade, I should be jumping at the chance to get back in the game. Not to mention, I never wanted to live on the ranch; that was Gray and Mason’s goal.
But Mason has been able to do both. And have a family. Is that what I want? To have a family? I watch the beautifulredhead walking into the kitchen, and for the first time, the fact I’m contemplating life with a family hits me like a lightning bolt. I’ve felt the tug for something more since the first time I set eyes on her.
What have I got myself into?
The front door opens, but I don’t pay any attention to it until I hear a gun cock. Keeping still, I slide my eyes to a couple of guys in ski masks; both have rifles.
“Listen up!” the one in the front yells. “Everyone be still and be quiet and we’ll be out of your hair without anyone getting hurt.”
In my periphery, I see Stony reach under the counter. The guy in the front turns his rifle on Stony. “Careful, old man.” Stony lets go of whatever is under the bar and holds his hands up as Sammy moves behind him.
His voice sounds young, late teens, early twenties. They both have the wiry frames of boys whose balls have recently dropped. He’s walking along the front of the bar toward the cash register, waving his gun back and forth. Everyone in the place is frozen in their seats; some have their hands up, and others are watching.
I’m willing to bet that over half of the people in this pub are armed, but teenage boys with more hormones than brains can be a bit trigger-happy and unpredictable. They could hurt those who are not armed, so we wait and watch. A few hundred dollars in the till is not worth anyone’s life.
The door to the kitchen opens, and Nora is backing through the door with two hot plates in her hands. Callum steps out of the hall and freezes when he sees the guy with the gun.
