Cannon’s mouth quirked. “Yeah. Don’t forget the hood.”
He turned. “Hood?”
“Did no one tell you? You have to put a hood on her to enter base. No one can see our location. Social media influencer, tourist, mountain goat—whatever she is, same rule applies. Hood goes on when you get her on the snowmobile. Wear comms—we’ll walk you through it.”
Archer had seen black fabric in his kit, but he didn’t know the use until now.
At that moment, Rome and Younger filed back into the war room. Each had a drink in hand and a bag of freshly popped popcorn in the other.
“We’ll be watching you,” Rome said as he passed Archer on his way to a prime seat for viewing.
“With snacks?”
Rome quirked his lips. “Don’t take it personal. When you live in an isolated base in the mountains, this is quality entertainment.”
Younger lightly bumped his shoulder into Archer’s as he walked by. “Good luck, Sparky.”
Rome paused with a kernel of popcorn halfway to his mouth. “Sparky.” He tossed the kernel into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “The nickname might fly.”
Archer hated this part of belonging to any team—the hazing of the new guy.
“Congrats, Archer,” Cannon called as Archer walked out. “You’re officially a member of Sierra.”
Minutes later, Archer was fully geared up and flying across the snow to the tower. The chatter in his comms crackled.
“How’s it going, Sparky?” Rome. Archer was starting to like the asshole despite everything.
“If I have to hear that name again, you’ll be going over the side of the tower,” he responded.
Younger’s gruff tone filled his ear. “You hear that? He’s bonding.”
“Threats are a healthy first step,” O added.
Rivers, Rorke and Townie all chimed in with their two cents about whether the nickname Sparky was the best fit for him.
“Testing, testing. Archer, if you can hear me, blink twice and think calm thoughts.” The team busted up at Reid Rivers’ reference to Archer meditating.
The controls of the snowmobile hummed under his hands as the tower came into sight. In his ear the guys were testing othernicknames. Among them—Ice Pick and Boy Scout. He tuned the men out.
O’s voice cut over them. “Tower camera has eyes on you, Archer. Wind’s picking up on the west side. She’s moving around more.”
“I see her. Approaching lower ridge. I’ll go in on foot.”
As he cut across the snow, his neck prickled with the sensation of being watched. He forced a breath into his lungs—a reminder that the people watching him were on the right side. That the bubble camera mounted on the tower was backup and the black dome wasn’t a prison warden.
Cannon spoke up. “Congrats. You’re onCandid Camera.”
Rome’s voice crackled over the comms. “What’s that?”
Younger groaned loudly. “I know what it is.”
“Of course you do,” Cannon said. “You’re a month older than me. God, how did I get stuck babysitting a team of infants?”
Archer cut the snowmobile engine and climbed off. The sounds of the team followed him in one ear and the rush of the wind filled the other. He placed a boot on the bottom rung and began to climb.
First solo mission. First real test.
Seventy feet up, a woman with more nerve than sense was hanging off a tower in the middle of a mountain storm and she was about to make his day a hell of a lot more interesting.
