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She nodded at Wren and Striker. Her gaze traveled over their clothing. “Do you need to take five minutes?”

“We’re good.” Wren strode into the room. She settled in her usual seat next to Daisy Roebuck, Cleo’s number two and Wren’s best friend. Sloane Harper was on her other side.

Striker grunted before heading around the opposite side of the room and sliding into the spare seat between Rexx and Blaze.

Cleo nodded. “Let’s keep this short. We’ve had several new alerts come in since you were out, Wren.”

She sat forward in her seat. “What have you located?”

Cleo smiled. “You first. I take it the mission wasn’t a success?”

Daisy held her nose. “Wren, you stink. Is that sapo explosivo all over you?”

Her cheeks heated. “There was an... incident. We came close to capturing a sapo.”

“Close isn’t good enough,” Rexx said.

Wren shifted in her seat. Rexx was the most intimidating of the Apexians. He was a stone cold bastard. He rarely smiled, was always looking for a fight, and was the largest of all of them. You never wanted to get on his wrong side.

Striker nudged him. “It wasn’t a total failure. I’m currently fifty percent warty toad right about now.”

“Yeah, and you reek as badly as Wren,” Rexx said. “You could have showered.”

“We were collecting samples,” Striker said. “Sometimes, when you’re out in the field, you have to get creative.”

“Wren, talk us through what happened.” Cleo settled in the seat at the head of the table.

“We identified at least one sapo explosivo. The scanner suggested there could have been up to four in the area, although that’s rare.”

“As are those toads,” Cleo said. “There are less than a hundred in circulation. Four would be an incredible find.”

Eden Franco sat at the end of the table with her feet up. She let out a low whistle. “Girl, it’s not like you to let so many get away.”

Wren glanced at Striker. There was no humor on his face for once. “It must have been a scanner malfunction. I’ll get it repaired now we’re back. The traps were set, the sapo was within striking distance, and then—”

“I screwed up,” Striker said. “I thought a sapo would be easy to catch. No venom, no claws, no fangs. Simple. I spotted this big warty guy hopping around and went after him. How was I supposed to know those things explode when scared?”

“You could try reading the mission briefs.” Georgia Toboni arched a groomed eyebrow at Striker. “That’s what we all do.”

“You get your pet AI to read the briefs to you.” Sloane smirked at Georgia.

“It gets the job done,” Georgia said. “If Striker did that, he’d have known to keep his hands off. Sapos are sensitive to changes in temperature. Your hand would have felt like a firebrand on its skin. It’s no wonder it exploded all over you. It’s no less than you deserved.”

“Let’s not go chucking blame around the table,” Cleo said. “We’ve all had our share of complicated situations when it comes to collecting these animals. Go on, Striker.”

Striker sat back in his seat. “That was it. I grabbed the giant toad, it exploded all over us, and we were done.”

If Wren didn’t know Striker so well, she’d have missed the flicker of dejection in his purple eyes. But dammit, she did know him. They’d spent hours together in the field, him bugging her, and her annoying him by making them follow the rules. And he was her partner. This had been a joint mission. They were both at fault.

“Striker suggested an alternative to catching the sapo. He saw an opportunity, and he took it,” Wren said.

“Wren had nothing to do with this. This was my mistake,” he said. “I messed up out there.”

“You’d better believe you did,” Georgia said. “ELVIS, replay the moment when Striker grabbed the toad.”

“Don’t do that.” Wren jerked forward in her seat. “We’ve given you an accurate account of what happened. We aren’t disputing the mission failure.”

“Please, for my entertainment.” Georgia’s smile was sharp. “I just about laughed my ass off when it exploded.”