“Sure,” Chadwick told him soothingly.“But only if they’re aiming a gun at us.”
“What do we do?”Carlyle asked.“Serve them a warrant?”
“We don’t have one to serve,” Harding said.“But wedohave a warrant for surveillance and covert search.”
Denison whistled.“Who did you have to blow to get a covert-search warrant?”
Joey expected the world to stop and a record player somewhere to scratch to a halt, but Harding merely snorted.“The list is long and distinguished and classified.But we got it, so we’re gonna use it.And since we’ve got ourselves a couple of stealth operative specialists, I’m gonna use them.Carlyle?Pearson?You guys game?”
“Wire us up, Chief,” Pearson said, grinning.“What’s the uniform?Camo?”
Harding shook his head.“Urban variety.You two get scruffy, dirty up your faces a little.Pearson, find a stocking cap and tuck that shiny gold hair up, darlin’.I’ll be up top for on-site overwatch.Kylie,” he grunted.“Normally, I’d like Crosby up there with a long-range weapon, but see that?”
“Oh shit,” Chadwick said.“Is that really a rec center?”
“Yup—not three hundred yards from the back fence.Sorry, Crosby.”
“No worries, Chief,” Crosby said.“You don’t fire a gun unless you know what’s going to be behind your target.Too many friendlies there for something that can go fifteen hundred yards.”
“Yup,” Harding said.“So I’m doing overwatch, you and Chadwick do backup, Carlyle goes east, Pearson goes west.Tal, where do you see a hole?”
“Rec center side,” she said promptly.“If there’s dogs loose, guys, that’s a danger.I’ll filter along back there.When we going, Clint?”
“Weapons check in five,” he said.“Everybody, suit up.”
The SCTF tactical gear requirements were very tailored to the operative—with the exception of vests, which Joey and Gail put under their baggy T-shirts.Pearson preferred knives and one small gun which she wore in a side holster, and Joey was pretty much on board with that.They could move silently, both of them wearing oversized street clothes, frayed and yellowed with too much washing and too much hard use.Gail took Harding’s advice and tucked her hair under a hat, and Carlyle used another—frayed and unraveling—to hide his raven’s-wing black hair, which shone when clean, and then went for some pale, loose cosmetic powder to make his complexion lighter and added little patches of eyeliner rubbed into his skin to dirty it up.
He was in the middle of doing that, using the mirror in his locker to check his work, when Chadwick blew out a sigh and pushed him aside by virtue of a bony hip.
“Turn around,” he grumbled.“Here.”He grabbed the makeup from Joey’s hand and, using a sponge he’d produced out of nowhere, started blotting the eyeliner.“It looks like a high school play.Subtlety here, Carlyle.Subtlety.”
Joey was trying to think of something—anything—to retort with, but he found his breath had seized.Wide-eyed, he stared at Chadwick’s once-ordinary hazel eyes and tried to remember how to push oxygen in and out of his lungs.Maybe even through his vocal cords; he understood that was cool.
Chadwick’s features—always lean and hatchet thin—were suddenly… warm.Close.Touchable.
Attractive.
From fuckingnowhere.Six months of working together, and suddenly Joey noticed that he was working with an attractive, beddable,fuckableman.
The realization was both humbling and exciting, and Joey couldn’t decide which dominated.
Gideon… fuck,Chadwick,was searching his work for a flaw, and suddenly he caught the direction of Joey’s gaze.
Chadwick’s eyes—not hazel, repeatnothazel but more of a muted falcon’s gold—widened fractionally, and for the span of a few heartbeats, they were… arrested, stilled, lost in a bubble in which only the two of them existed.
“Hey, guys,” Gail’s chirpy voice called from the doorway of their locker room.“Let me look!”
Chadwick stirred first, turning to take her in.“You’re perfect,” he said proudly.
“Thank you, Papa,” she replied, giving a cheeky grin.“You taught me well.Pay attention to him, Carlyle—he’s good at this part.”
Joey’s heart started thudding slowly in his chest again, and his breath resumed its usual function.
“Thanks,” he said gruffly to Gid—Chadwick.“I—”
But Gideon was inhaling lightly through his nose like a mountain cat, and he tilted his head.“Blood,” he said thoughtfully.“Not old… just… blood and pine trees.”He shook himself.“That’s weird,” he said.“Sorry.I get that way.Crosby smelled like puppies.Clint like rock face.Tal, of all things, like snickerdoodles.It’s not always the same smell… but it’s only something that happens with people I’m close to.”
He gave a fleeting smile and took a step back.“You look good.Meet you at the shop in five.”
