"I'm going on the op," Seth said.
"I know."
"And you're going to worry."
"I know that too."
"And afterward, we're doing this again. In a bed. Like adults."
"If Jack walks in…"
"Jack knows better."
"Does he?"
"He's survived six years working with you. The man has instincts."
They looked at each other. And laughed. Together, which was rare, which was new, which was the sound of two people discovering that the space between fear and surrender could hold joy.
They put themselves back together. Straightened clothes. Checked for obvious evidence. There was obvious evidence. Seth's hair was a disaster. Zain's knees were red from concrete. They both smelled like they'd committed a crime against decency in a room full of firearms, which, technically, they had.
They didn't make it out of the armory for another ten minutes because Seth kissed him again at the door, slow and deep and tasting like a promise, and Zain let himself be kissed, let himself be held, let himself stand in a room full of weapons and feel, for the first time in longer than he could count, completely unarmed.
When they finally opened the door, Jack was leaning against the opposite wall with his arms crossed and an expression of long-suffering patience.
"You done?"
"Yes," Zain said.
"You both going on the op?"
"Yes."
"Good. Because Marcus already assumed you would, and the briefing started ten minutes ago." Jack pushed off the wall."Also, the acoustic insulation in the armory is not as good as you think it is."
Seth turned red.
Zain didn't.
CHAPTER 26
The night before the three-site operation, Nate made everyone sit.
The whiskey was Nate's. Good stuff. Woodford Reserve, bourbon that cost enough to suggest that Nate's pre-med pasthad come with taste if not with money. He poured six glasses with the precise measurement of a man who understood dosage, and set them on the table like sacraments.
"Rules," Nate said. "One glass. Nobody gets drunk the night before an operation. This is a ritual, not a party."
"Nate throws the worst parties," Jack said.
"Nate keeps you alive. Drink."
They drank. The bourbon was warm and smooth and tasted like caramel and oak and the amber courage of men preparing to do something dangerous for reasons that the law wouldn't recognize but that mattered more than the law had ever mattered to any of them.
Marcus spoke first. He always spoke first. "Tomorrow we hit three sites simultaneously. Ghost has the coordinates, the security rotations, and the communication frequencies. Elijah has the overwatch positions. Jack and Zain have the entry teams. Nate has the extraction routes."
"And Seth?" Seth asked.
"Seth has the Hamtramck site. With Zain." Marcus looked at him. That measuring look. "You ready?"
