His body snapped to alertness. “Me?”
“You’re the low man on the totem pole. It will be an easy rescue.”
Though he wasn’t taking out a terroristic threat while rappelling down the sheer face of a mountain, at least he had his first real assignment—even if it was small.
He kept his face neutral, even though satisfaction rushed into his veins. “Copy.”
Rome rocked his chair back on two legs, the corner of his mouth tipping up to meet the scar on his cheek. “Need a minute to ground and meditate before you go out there?”
Younger barked out a laugh. O’s jaw shifted enough it could almost count as amusement.
Archer gave Rome a flat look. “I’ll meditate on the way.”
That earned a few more laughs. Ever since they’d seen him go still before a workout or drill—dropping onto a benchand letting his eyelids droop as he turned inward for a quiet beat—they’d been ribbing him about breathing exercises and grounding techniques.
To them, it looked like he checked out, but they couldn’t be more wrong. He was tuning in.
Cannon flicked the apple core toward the trash, sinking the shot without looking. “Everybody out except Archer.”
There was a chorus of mock disappointment.
“Aw, c’mon, Cannon. Can’t we all listen to the inspirational rescue speech?” Rome’s comment had them all chuckling.
“I got twenty bucks on the woman refusing to come down,” O put in.
“My bet’s on the blizzard closing in before Archer can talk her down.” Younger pushed off the wall and sauntered out the door.
The men filed out, leaving Archer facing his commanding officer.
On the monitors, the camera continued to switch between views of the woman clinging to the tower. But Cannon folded his arms and leaned against the table as if they had all the time in the world to rescue her.
“This is your first solo op with Sierra.”
“I’m aware.”
“You sure you’re ready for this?” Cannon eyed him.
He pushed air through his nostrils. “I’ve trained to get myself out of broken ice and survive twenty-four hours alone in a cave with no equipment while battling hypothermia. I’ve hauled a full-grown man up a rock face in wind chills of twenty below.” He pushed to his feet. “Pretty sure I can handle a hundred-thirty-pound woman.”
Cannon’s expression narrowed to a more serious one. “You’ve also got a history the rest of the team doesn’t.”
“A lot of military men are held captive for over a year.”
“Yeah, but they’re called POWs and get medals. You got mountain warfare training and to join Blackout. And you’ve only been here two months.”
Archer held his stare. “If you don’t think I’m ready, why’d you give me the assignment?”
“I’m giving you the choice now.”
And risk more hazing from his teammates? Not a chance.
He squared his shoulders. “No one cares what happened to me before. They only care what I do next. Sir.”
A heartbeat ticked by and a gleam slipped into Cannon’s eyes. Respect? Probably not yet. But maybe he saw a glimmer of what Archer once was. What he was going to become again.
He glanced at the monitor again. The woman was still clinging to the support, hair whipping around her face while the wind tore at her jacket hard enough to flatten her to the frame.
“No big deal. Like rescuing a kitten from a tree with a ladder on a spring day.” Archer took a step toward the door. “Any more orders, sir?”
