Page 142 of The ARC Unit: Breach

“Heroic.”

“You’re drinking it.”

“That doesn’t mean I respect you.”

“Don’t really care.”

I hated how easy the exchange had become. A little while ago, every conversation with Wolf felt like trying to get into a locked door and being insulted for not having the key. Now I knew how long to wait when he went quiet and which comments he would ignore. I also knew exactly how far the mask had to move before the scar became visible near his mouth.

The familiarity only made standing across the kitchen from him in sleep shorts and no bra feel less innocent. I took another drink and tried to redirect my brain toward something safer. My gaze settled on the small ARC patch fixed to the black bag beside him.

“Do you people ever stop being ridiculous about the animal names?”

Wolf followed my attention. “No.”

“Good. I was worried there might be a mature explanation.”

“There is.”

I looked at him over my coffee. “Of course there is.”

“Keeps real names off comms. Protects identities. Makes it harder to trace people outside the unit.”

“And here I thought Jackal just really wanted to be called Jackal.”

“That too.”

I smiled and leaned against the opposite counter. “Hawk wanted to name me Mongoose because I’m apparently small and aggressive.”

“Accurate.”

“Fuck you. Viper upgraded me to Goose.”

“Also accurate.”

“Bear was the only one with any dignity. He suggested Fox.”

Wolf took another drink.

“Then Raven called me Magpie because I don’t know how to leave interesting things alone.”

“He has a point.”

“And somehow that devolved into Badger and then Honey Badger, because apparently none of you can be trusted with naming privileges.”

The corner of Wolf’s mouth shifted.

“You were the only one who wouldn’t participate,” I recalled.

“You didn’t need one.”

“Because I’m temporary?”

His eyes settled on mine.

I took another drink and let the old irritation sharpen my voice just enough to make the point. “I’m starting to think temporary has a different definition inside ARC. I’ve been here long enough to get restrained, shot at, dragged across borders and forced to learn far too much about Jackal’s medical complaints.”

“You weren’t shot at.”