Page 9

I exited the Range Rover and headed up the stairs, adjusting my flight suit and tugging the zipper up a bit higher; I seemed to remember Jax saying his father was a former Navy man as well, and it wouldn't do to present myself poorly to someone from the Teams.

I rapped on the door three times, and then stood at resting attention, hands behind my back, spine straight, shoulders back.

While I was waiting for an answer to my knock, I noticed the vehicles in the driveway—four of them. The rearmost one bore the eagle and trident of the Teams on the bumper.

The heavy tread of male footsteps preceded the door opening, revealing a tall, muscular man in his mid-to-late fifties; his head buzzed, a neat beard framing his hard jaw. He was wearing dress whites, hat under his arm. "Good afternoon. Can I help you?"

"I'm here for Jax." My hand was trying desperately to lift for a salute at the dress whites, but we’re both retired and I outranked him by a good bit anyway—his shoulder insignia told me he was a Senior Chief Petty Officer. I extended my hand to him. "Lt. Commander Tea Tiernan."

He ignored my hand and snapped a salute. "Welcome, Commander. Senior Chief Petty Officer Zane Badd." He stepped back and gestured me in. "Come in, come in. Don't mind the noise, Commander. We're about to leave for a funeral."

I frowned. "My condolences. Someone you were close to?"

He nodded. “A buddy from the Teams. Took his own life."

I winced. "I'm so sorry to hear that."

He nodded again. “All too common, unfortunately. He was a damn good man." He gestured at the stairs. “Jax should be ready in a minute. He's in his last-minute Tasmanian Devil routine."

"My—our—employer is eager to leave," I said.

"Jax won't tell me anything about this project, other than it's a big opportunity for him."

"That's because he doesn't know anything. We're both under strict NDAs and the details of the project are being kept secret until he reaches the location.” I hesitated. “To be clear, I know less than he does. I’m just the pilot.”

“Do you know where he’s going, at least?”

"I don't know yet. Somewhere in the interior. Close enough to reach by helo, far enough that trips home aren't a possibility."

At this, the elder Badd frowned. "Seems like he kept back a few key details. How long?"

"Six months, I believe."

He dragged his hand down his face. "Fuckin' boys. They can't communicate for shit."

"This I know, Petty Officer Badd."

He rolled his eyes at me. "We're both retired, so let's cut the formality, yeah? I'm Zane and you're Tea. Cool?"

Jax was the spitting image of his father, except his hair was blonde where the elder Badd in front of me had brown hair dusted with silver; otherwise, they could be twins separated by decades. Similar build, although Jax was a little taller and leaner, with the same deep, liquid, expressive brown eyes and hard, square jaw.

"Sounds good to me, Zane," I said.

"JAX!" Zane bellowed, loud enough that I winced involuntarily.

Nothing.

"Yo, Z, we gotta go!" A gravelly voice snarled from the kitchen.

Zane clapped me on the shoulder. "His room is upstairs, last door on the left. He's probably got music going. Or a YouTube video, or both."

"I'll go get him," I said. "Go send off your friend."

He sighed heavily. "Attended a few too many of these, the last few years."

"If I never hear another twenty-one gun salute again, it'll be too goddamned soon, Petty Officer Badd."

He examined me closely. "Lost some, have you?"