“No. I’m good.” The question is annoying. He knows how to compartmentalize and won’t let their history get in the way. “Areyouokay with it?” Colton asks, mainly to throw the question back at him.
Graham doesn’t answer right away. “It isn’t ideal.” He stops in the middle of the street, does his best to loom over Colton. “If you try to dominate me in public, I won’t be responsible for my actions. I told Fein this was a bad idea.”
He wishes he felt anger, but he doesn’t. Maybe it’s regret that’s washing through him? Disappointment?
Hell, it might even be grief. Any notion Colton had that they had shared something intimate and profound is gone.
Fizzled to nothing.
This man doesn’t know him on some fundamental level. That was conjecture on Colton’s part. There was no trust developed there. And he isn’t here because Graham wanted to see him again but couldn’t figure out a way to make it happen. Which is admittedly something Colton hoped the whole drive here.
“Yes, sir,” he says finally. He meets Graham’s gaze, lets him see that he’s ready to follow orders and keep it professional. “You’re in charge. I understand.” He raises a hand toward his ear but waits, asking permission.
Graham nods, turns on his own earpiece while Colton does his best to keep his attention on the exercise and their surroundings.
It’s just in time to hear someone say, “This is team Bravo. Heavy engagement at entry point C. Requesting assistance from anyone available.”
Graham is looking at an electronic map on his watch. “Bravo, this is team Charlie. Moving towards your position from the west now. Over,” Graham says, since they’re right next to the stairs heading down into the fake subway. Colton puts on his infrared goggles, surprised when Graham doesn’t. Graham can apparently see in the dark, the lucky bastard, and almost instantly they’re engaging the fictional enemy in a gun battle.The simulation is impressive and his heart rate and adrenaline respond accordingly. The danger feels real as they take cover and return fire, taking out the imaginary enemy.
The fight is over in under a minute. Colton checks his weapon and takes a few deep breaths to center himself. Graham is waiting for Colton to say if he’s ready to continue on, gaze unreadable as he studies Colton’s face.
He isn’t even blushing. He doesn’t look at Colton’s mouth. There’s nothing to indicate he’s drawn to Colton at all. It’s bizarre how much control Graham has over himself. It isn’t good for his ego.
Which is irrelevant to the task at hand.
“No one told me there would be a smell,” Colton says. Definitely sewer.
Graham’s lips twitch in amusement but he doesn’t say anything.
They start moving again. It’s oddly uneventful until they hit the platform and drop onto the tracks. He sees nothing behind them and although they should be able to hear the enemy coming and they’ve been fairly easy to kill so far, he can’t help feeling antsy with this being just the two of them.
“Incoming,” Graham murmurs and Colton strains to listen, his ears not picking up anything yet. He turns in a circle, moves closer to Graham to ensure he has his back.
“Yeah, I have visual,” Colton says a few seconds later and drops to the ground to get a steadier shot. Several targets come quickly toward them. They eliminate them and more appear.
“Oh fuck. They wouldn’t be above us, too, would they?”
“Negative,” Graham says after checking. “At least not right now. I’ve got you covered. Keep it up,” he says, and Colton can feel Graham on his left, his presence radiating strength and power.
Warning bells ring in his mind, his designation sending intrusive thoughts, hyperaware of the submissive in a dominant position above him. It’s so stupid and he needs one hundred percent focus on killing these stupid fake people. He exhales, blinks, concentrates on the task at hand.
Colton finally gets them all.
And then it’s silent except for his breathing and Graham’s boots as he turns around to look about them. Colton doesn’t get up. They wait for another minute to go by and then Colton pushes himself to his feet, nods at Graham to say he’s good to go, and Graham leads the way farther into the tunnels.
“Your aim is good,” Graham says. He glances from the gun to Colton’s face like he’s waiting for a response.
What was the question? Oh. “The stability I have on the ground made it easy. I’m not sure I would have felt all right about it if you hadn’t done such a good job covering me.”
Graham nods tightly, as if he’s unimpressed with the compliment, and they fall into silence. He checks the map again, tells Bravo team that they’re closing in on their position. Colton can hear gunfire in the distance.
“Charlie team, your assistance is unnecessary and you’re instructed to stay where you are until further orders. Do you copy?”
“Fuck,” Graham mutters. “Copy. We’ll sit tight.”
They wait.
Colton moves to a wall and leans against it. The army is all about waiting. He closes his eyes, centers himself, thinks about what he needs from the grocery store, wonders if he’ll really get out of this exercise with a clean uniform.
