Near the back, Predator did not pause his inspection of the rifle in his lap. “Maybe she can autograph our body bags,” he said quietly.
Ghost glanced toward Rachel in time to catch the flicker in her eyes. A small impact, nothing more, but it landed. She forced it down and straightened. Arms folded. Voice cool. “Nice to meet you too.”
Falcon shifted his gear at the door. “I would stay for the fireworks, but someone has to fly the bird.” He gave her a nod that waspractical and not unkind. “Good luck, Parker. You are going to need it.” Then he stepped out, leaving her alone with a SEAL Team who did not want her in their space.
Ghost faced the team. Arms crossed. Voice flat. “She is here. You do not have to like it, but you do have to deal with it. Keep your opinions to yourselves and let her work.”
His gaze swept across them. “You don’t help her. You don’t hinder her. You don’t interfere with her job. Anyone’s got a problem, you bring it to me.” Uncomfortable silence filled the space.
Ghost watched Rachel's shoulders tighten slightly. Good. She needed to understand what she'd walked into.
He moved on. “Introductions.”
"Introductions." He pointed to Torch. "Torch. Second in command."
Torch gave a mock salute, scowl firmly in place.
"Predator. Sniper." Predator kept checking his scope, didn't bother looking up.
"Reaper. Close quarters." Reaper gave a curt nod. His knuckles were bruised and scabbed from the last op.
"Brick. Heavy gunner." Brick sat near the gear rack, massive arms folded. He didn't move. Didn't need to.
"Rogue. Recon and infiltration." Rogue watched from his position against the wall, expression unreadable.
"Echo. Comms and tech." Echo lifted a hand without looking up from his tablet.
"Frost. Medic. Newest to the team." Frost nodded once, face carefully neutral.
"And Falcon," Ghost said. "You saw him on his way out. Not a SEAL, but he’s part of the team. He gets us in. He gets us out."
Rachel stood in the middle of the room facing seven men who wanted her gone. Ghost saw her jaw set, saw the way she kept her chin up despite the hostility rolling off his team.
She looked at each man, then turned back to Ghost. "What about you? Do you have a callsign?"
Ghost held her stare. His jaw twitched. "Yeah. They call me Ghost."
A small smirk pulled at her mouth before she caught it. "Fitting."
His expression didn't change. "Gear up. We have work to do."
Boots scraped against concrete. Straps tightened. Metal clicked as weapons were checked. His team moved with practiced efficiency, flowing around Rachel like she didn't exist.
One by one, they filed out.
Ghost was last to the door. He paused, looked back at her standing alone in the middle of the barracks. "Stay put, Parker."
Then he was gone.
7
Rachel stood alone in the empty barracks. The space felt hollow now, cooler without seven bodies radiating heat and hostility.
She let out a slow breath. She'd been embedded before, Marines in Fallujah, Army in Mosul. She'd documented ambushes and aftermath. She'd walked through places where death was a constant.
But this felt different. Those units had been wary but eventually accepted her. Hayes’s team looked at her like she was already a problem they’d have to solve, a brotherhood forged in blood and survival with no room for outsiders.
Rachel rolled her shoulders and headed for the door. They didn't have to welcome her. They didn't have to talk to her. They just had to let her do her job.
