Claire wrapped her hands around the warm mug, inhaling the faint but familiar scent of chamomile and honey. “Thank you.”
“Can’t have my protectee dying of dehydration.”
“Pretty sure that’s not how dehydration works.”
“I’m a SEAL, not a doctor.”
There. Definitely almost a smile that time.
Claire took a sip, letting the silence settle. He seemed comfortable with silence. Another thing she logged into her mental file on him. “So. Going off mission. What happened?”
Wolf’s expression shuttered. He reached for a cookie and broke it in half. “What makes you think I’ll tell you?”
“Because you’re here. You could have told me to go back to bed.”
“You’re my protectee. You requested an escort to the cafeteria for tea. That’s my job.”
“Right. Your job.” She studied him over her mug. “Except Grizzly was already on night watch. He could have brought me. You didn’t have to relieve him.”
Wolf ate half the cookie. Said nothing.
Claire tried a different approach. “You said you went off mission and did something your bosses didn’t appreciate. But you also said Shadow Point does the same thing—operates outside official channels when the system’s too slow.”
“Your point?”
“My point is that you didn’t get discharged because you did something wrong. My guess is you got discharged because you did something right that your superiors couldn’t officially sanction.” She leaned forward slightly. “What was it?”
He was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t talk about it.”
“Are you ashamed?”
“What?” His expression was a mix of outrage and irritation. “No.”
“Is it classified?”
He sighed. “Technically, no. No one knows exactly what I did. There’s no record of it, no witnesses.”
She mulled that over. “You’re just saying that so I won’t go digging and find out through my vast and extensive resources. I mean, I have the clearance and the right to investigate anyone who’s guarding me, don’t I?” Of course, she’d have to learn his real name, but she could if she really wanted to, and they both knew it.
Another sigh. His eyes locked on hers, more irritated now. “On one of my assignments, local women were disappearing from villages near our operational area. Turning up dead. Tortured.”
Claire’s chest tightened. She set down her tea, hands suddenly shaking. “And?”
“And I tracked the killer. I went off mission for twelve hours. When I came back, the women stopped disappearing.” His voice was flat. Emotionless.
“Jesus. You…”
He stared at the half of uneaten cookie. “I won’t cop to anything, so don’t ask.”
“They suspected, didn’t they? Your CO? But they must not have had proof, so they discharged you without a court-martial.”
“I could have fought it. They didn’t have any proof, but I saw the way they looked at me. Like they couldn’t trust me anymore. Didn’t matter that I’d done an honorable thing.”
Her finger slid around the edge of the cup. “You broke the rules. They can’t have a SEAL going rogue.”
He met her eyes, his hard. “No, not even if going rogue saves lives.”
Claire understood. How many times had she wanted to cross lines the FBI wouldn’t let her cross? How many predators had she watched walk because of technicalities, jurisdictional issues, bureaucratic delays? “That’s why you’re here,” she said quietly. “Shadow Point. Doing what the system won’t let you do.”
