“I’m not good at resting,” I say.
“Learn,” Ghost says. “Talia can teach you.”
Talia smiles, a small, private thing that warms the room. “I have some instructional manuals.”
“Gross,” Halo mutters. “Get a room. Oh, wait; you already did.”
“Out,” I say, pointing to the door. “Everyone out.”
“We’re leaving,” Ghost says, herding the team. “Halo, get that data ready for the drop. Brass, secure the perimeter. Nobody gets within a mile of this building without my say-so.”
They file out. Halo steals a donut on his way. Brass grabs two.
The door closes.
Silence returns. But it’s different now. It’s not the silence of waiting for the next attack. It’s the silence of victory.
Talia slumps back in the chair, letting out a long breath. “We actually did it.”
“You did it,” I say. “I just held the door open for you.”
“You kept me alive.” She walks over to me and wraps her arms around my waist, careful of the bandage. She rests her head on my chest. “We make a good team.”
“The best.”
I run my hand down her back, feeling the warmth of her through the thin cotton of my shirt.
“So,” she murmurs. “Medical leave.”
“Sounds boring.”
“I don’t know.” She looks up, her eyes dancing with mischief. “I’m sure we can find some way to pass the time.”
“I have a few ideas.”
“Do they involve algorithms?”
“They involve variables.” I kiss her forehead. “Motion. Friction. Velocity.”
She laughs. “You’re a nerd.”
“I’m a demolition expert. I know how to bang things.”
“That was terrible.” She groans, burying her face in my chest.
“You laughed.”
“I did.”
I hold her. The rain falls. The city outside is gray and cold, but in here, everything is warm.
We have the data. We have the target. The Admiral is going down, and for the first time in my life, I have something more important than the mission.
I have her.
TWENTY-SIX
Jackson
