“I remember seeing you guys last night at Lost Souls.” Slash regarded Sydney. “Boss costume. I got clothes you can wear.”
“Tank, after Sydney changes, where can she find you?” Addison asked.
“My office.”
Sydney handed him back his suit jacket and body armor before vanishing into the locker room with Slash and Addison.
In his office, he stood in front of the walk-in-closet retina scanner. The light flashed green, he grabbed a change of clothing, and headed to the men’s locker room. After a quick shower, he raked his fingers through his damp hair, pulled on a black T-shirt, and khakis, and his body armor. Over that, he tugged on a quarter-zip black sweater. Fifteen minutes later, he went in search of Sydney.
She wasn’t in Slash’s office, wasn’t in Addison’s either. When he couldn’t find them in the break room, he pounded on the women’s locker room door.
“It’s Tank. Is Sydney with you?”
No response.
He cracked open the door. “Everyone okay in there?”
Nothing.
Back down the hall he strode in search of his guest.
Even in the light of day, the place creeped him out. No windows, two exits. The abysmal white walls and gray flooring reminded him of a prison. While he appreciated that the building offered no hint of its occupants, the place was stark and cold.
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!
A round of gunfire crashed into his thoughts, and he took off toward the back of the building. He pushed out the exit,confirmed Rebel was running drills with his team—Sydney included.
He retrieved his rifle from his office closet. After checking the chamber for bullets, he turned his attention on his Glock. He loaded more bullets into the magazine, pulled on eye and ear protection, then headed out back.
Once outside, he made his way over to Rebel. While the team were shooting at targets pointedawayfrom him, he wasn’t sleuthing toward a group of armed BLACK OPS practicing with live rounds.
He whistled loudly, waved his arm, and caught Rebel’s attention. Rebel tossed him a nod, raised his arm in a “stop” position, and his team placed their rifles in the “down” position.
Rebel climbed down from the short tower where he’d been standing, waived Teddy in “Wanna join us?”
Shooting was a perishable skill, so Teddy stole any chance he could to practice.
No point chasing terrorists if I don’t hit my marks.
“Hell, yeah,” Teddy replied.
“Full house,” Rebel said, and Teddy acknowledged all eight stations were filled.
Sydney stood at the farthest. “Pair me with Sydney.”
Rebel escorted him past the Ops. Teddy paused to shake hands with Hawk and Hawk’s brother Prescott. He shot Sin a salute, acknowledged Addison, her sister Brit, winked at Slash, and pulled to a stop alongside Sydney.
“Hey bossman,” Sydney said.
Teddy tossed her a nod, did a quick look-see to check her out.
Damn, she looks hot in camouflage.
“Take turns,” Rebel said. “Tank, you’re up.”
Rebel returned to his station, climbed up the short tower, and stood on the platform. He instructed them to begin, andthe air was filled with the thunder of bullets exploding out of their handguns, the sound reverberating inside his chest.
With his Glock in hand, Teddy stepped up to the line, got in firing position, homed in on his target, placed his finger on the trigger, and began firing.
