“Lark, who the hell does this guy think he is?” Specs pushed her glasses back up on her nose.
“Jupiter, if you want to participate, you’re second chair.” Lark let out a long breath as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “You take orders from me.” She pointed at Thor Armstrong, team leader, who waved and smiled. “This is my op, understand.”
“Never said it wasn’t,” Thor said. “But we’re here. We’re ready. And we’re certainly able.”
Boy, didn’t she know it.
Next to Thor, Matthew “Moose” Rhodes leaned against the center desk. He was tall, broad, and while his body language screamed relaxed, he carried the weight of the world behindhis dark eyes. He was the kind of man who always showed up—ready for the fight—and walked away holding the emotional wreckage for the entire team. He once told her his chickens took that burden from him. She’d met those chickens once. The whole flock of them, and she had to admit, those damn chickens made her feel… something.
Sloan Dane, the calmest and quietest one of the group, stuffed his hands in his pockets as his gaze took in everything. Sloan was not only observant—he was dangerously aware of the smallest of details—right down to a speck of dust floating in the air. He’d never comment on it, but he’d somehow manage to make you painfully aware of it.
Lief Kessler inched toward the whiteboard, nodding once at Alvarez before diverting his gaze back to the maps.
The tension was thicker than the humidity and sharper than the rusted blade Wes kept flipping open and closed.
"We expected a dossier before we took off from our last op from Specs,” Kawan said, folding his arms. “We never got one.”
“I didn’t know you were coming until a few minutes ago.” Specs waved a hand across her computer screen. “You were sent for extraction and support… only not sure we can shuffle you into the rotation for support this late in the game. We’re scheduled to head to town in less than two hours.”
Lark bit back a smile. What Specs lacked in her weapons skills, she more than made up for it in the brains department.
“We have our orders. Came from high up the food chain in JSOC.” Thor pulled a piece of paper from his pocket.
"We can’t protect what we don’t understand," Kawan said, stepping in closer, towering over Lark, as if he intended to intimidate.
Lark met his gaze, even. "You’re here to pull us out, not hold our hand." She took the paper Thor offered, glanced at it quickly, her gaze landing on one name.
Major General Grady.
She glanced toward Specs, holding up the paper. Specs didn’t have to say a word. She didn’t have to move. All she needed to do was glance once at her monitor. Fucking email came from Grady, not Lorre.
Kawan smirked. "Some things never change."
"Like you assuming you’re entitled to more than you are." Lark arched a brow as she handed the paper back to Thor, contemplating how to play this.
"This is gonna be fun." Jupiter snorted. “I give it twenty minutes before they either kill each other or find a dark corner and screw each other’s brains out.”
“Don’t be crude.” Kawan jerked his head and glared at his buddy.
“I don’t need you defending my honor.” Lark shook her head.
“I’m defending mine.” Kawan winked.
“Of course, you are.” Lark’s heart pounded in her chest. Not from the mission. She could deal with that and all the possible lose-lose scenarios, which were piling up left and right. However, the tall drink of sexy, standing less than two-feet away, was messing with her ability to compartmentalize. There was no place for feelings in a mission. Not unless they were gut reactions—or instincts—to intel or a situation unfolding.
She resumed pacing behind Specs' desk. Heel-toe. Heel-toe. Focus on the mission. On what she could control.
And she could control what Kawan and his team did. She scanned the floor for her discarded tension ball.”
Kawan marched across the hanger, lifted the orange stress ball off the ground, and sent it sailing across the room.
Lark snagged it midair—but only after she had to jump to catch it, nearly missing it altogether.
“Nice catch.” Kawan’s lips curved into a half smile.
“Too bad I had to work for it.” She tilted her head. “But that’s always the way with you.”
“Oh, I could have a field day with that statement, sweetheart.”
