“The organization works mostly in groups of eight,” Bloom continued, drawing lines down from X indicating multiple teams. “A few of the teams are set, but most come together ad hoc to carry out specific missions. Anyone can be cross-matrixed to provide additional support.”
I nodded, following the organizational structure thus far.
“Right now, X is setting up a new team made up of formerspec ops troops,” he said. “We’ll be a set unit, stationed here, able to be assigned anywhere we’re needed.”
“Sounds like the Rangers all over again,” I said.
Under one of the lines he’d drawn, Bloom wroteHartmann, then a dash, then a question mark. “Every team has a lead. In our case, Kat Hartmann. She’s in DC with X this morning, but you’ll meet her this afternoon.”
I didn’t ask what was happening tonight. I had to get through the rest of the day before I thought that far ahead.
“The lead has a counterpart, a medical officer—a lot of them former field surgeons.”
“No shit.” I didn’t like what that said about the potential for injury or worse on this job.
“There was a bit of a cock-up with medical staff a while back,” Pasco added, “which is why we don’t have a permanent doc of our own, but as needed, Dr. Bond will join us. She heads up HEAT’s entire medical branch.”
“Reporting to the lead team are three more units.” Bloom drew more lines and names. “In our case, we have Pasco in IT, and we’re borrowing Jason Jensen, who’s head of HEAT IT. That’s another limited resources situation.”
“Luckily, I can do the work of three hackers,” Pasco said. “Not that that’s my only function. It’s just my favorite.”
“The other two teams are logistics and tactical.” Bloom grinned. “You know I’m one of the best loggies, so it’s obvious where I’ll be. My teammate will be Logan Lang. I worked one job with him before. He’s… intense. But really good.” He pointed to me. “You, of course, are on tactical.”
I nodded. That’s exactly where I would expect to be. But there were two spots on tactical, and only one person not yet accounted for in the org chart.
“Pasco and Jensen on IT,” I repeated slowly to Bloom. “You and Lang on logistics. That means…” I turned slowly and looked at Wheeler.
He grinned and held his coffee cup aloft like he wastoasting me. “You and me, mate. A match made in spec ops heaven.”
I realized then what a pathetic case I was. I would do anything for Savannah, even—Christ on toast—agree to be stuck with the asshole Aussie for six weeks. Every time I thought fate was done having its way with me, it turned around and kicked me in the nads.
It wasbad enough that I’d learned I’d be tied at the hip to Ryan Wheeler for six weeks. Then I spent the rest of the day without catching a glimpse of Savannah. After Ryan had given me the two-cent tour of the building and grounds, including the many workout and training spaces inside and out, we’d convened on the second floor, which held the medical bay and the SCIF, which was the classified briefing room.
There I met Kat Hartmann, who wore her long red hair tied up in a ponytail and had a wide, welcoming smile. She looked like sweetness and light in contrast to X’s dark energy. But I would hold off on assigning good intentions to her until I really got to know her because first impressions can be deceiving. Kat wasn’t former military, but she was way up in the HEAT hierarchy, which probably meant she was a master spy. You don’t want to get on the bad side of someone with that skill set.
She led the briefing for our small team, which included just Bloom, Wheeler, and me to start. I assumed this was mostly for my benefit, anyway. Hartmann—or Kat, as I had to remember to call her because civilians rarely use the last-names approach of the military—had spent the morning on a deep dive of HEAT, its history, its mission, and our happy little team.
After a quick lunch from catered platters lined up in thehallway outside the SCIF, Pasco joined us. He and Jensen, who was working remotely from an undisclosed location, had completed their morning task, which was to set up a backdoor to get Savannah into her company’s computer systems. Jensen joined us via teleconferencing.
Kat had just moved to the front of the conference room to stand beside the smart board when the SCIF’s cipher lock clicked. A woman, another redhead, entered the room. She was taller than Kat and wore black stilettos with what I guessed was a designer black-and-white dress.
Savannah would like those shoes. Maybe I’d buy her a pair like them, and she could model them—no. No for so many fucking reasons, not the least of which was that I was in the middle of a classified briefing. Then there was the little matter of being friends with benefits, which probably did not allow for one friend to buy the other friend a pair of fuck-me stilettos.
“Good afternoon,” the tall woman said. “Hayes, we haven’t met. I’m Samantha Bond. Yes, I’m aware of the coincidence of the name, given our line of work. No, I do not find jokes about it amusing. I’m a former Army field surgeon, in case you need that information to make you comfortable following orders.”
“No, ma’am,” I said. “But appreciate the knowledge and hope I never need your battlefield expertise.”
“That only leaves Logan to complete our team,” Kat said. “Good news. He’ll be at the team dinner at my house tonight.” That sounded mandatory.
“Um, what time is that, exactly?” I asked. After a day with my new team, I’d hoped to spend the off hours with Savannah.
“Happy hour starts at six. Nothing fancy, so casual attire is fine.” She glanced at me. “Maybe not fatigues, though.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I answered.
“That reminds me, note to self,” Kat said. She bent andscribbled something in her notebook. “I promised Savannah she could borrow something of mine.”
With that, a team dinner didn’t sound like such a bad idea after all. I hoped Kat would lend Savannah something blue so she could wear those shoes again, because I was planning on a repeat of what we’d done with her wearing them last night.
