Elliot swallowed hard. He needed to focus.
"Alpha team, you're up,” Kowalski called.
Elliot, Petersen, Novak and Hale moved to the staging area. The building was a converted warehouse set up to mimic an urban environment with multiple rooms, narrow hallways and low visibility.
"I'll take point," Hale said, voice assured and professional.
"I’ve got rear,” Petersen called from behind him.
Somehow that resulted in Elliot pressed against Hale’s back as they stacked up at the entry point.
Hale’s back rose and fell with every breath. The smell of his woodsy deodorant lingered between them. Elliot's hand settled on Hale's shoulder, his pulse jumping against his palm. Hard muscle, tense and coiled, visible beneath his shirt.
"Ready?" Hale asked, voice low.
"Ready,” they answered in unison.
Hale moved and the rest followed, all of them flowing through the door in practiced synchronization. They cleared the first room quickly and moved to the next doorway.
Hale’s fist went up. They stopped. Hale pointed: two fingers, left side. Then counted down. Three. Two. One.
They breached, Hale and Elliot going left, Novak and Petersen right. There were two "hostages" in the room surrounded by instructors with simulated weapons. Elliot put two rounds center mass. His target raised his hands—eliminated, out of play. Hale's target did the same.
"Clear," Hale said.
"Clear," Novak confirmed from the other side of the room.
Elliot and Hale pushed forward, leaving the rescued hostages for Novak and Petersen to tend to.
Each doorway required the same process: stack up, count down, breach in perfect coordination. And everysingle time Elliot pressed against Hale's back, Hale's breath caught.
His own hands weren’t entirely steady on his weapon either.
The contact was necessary, well-advised, but Elliot's body didn't seem to care about the distinction. He really needed to request a different group for this exercise next time.
"Next room," Hale whispered. "Three hostiles, two hostages. Northeast corner."
"How do you know?"
"Counted the shadows under the door."
Of course he did. Hale was good at this, better than he probably should be at this stage of training.
Hale glanced back over his shoulder, and their faces were suddenly inches apart. Elliot saw the exact moment Hale's focus slipped. His pupils dilated and his gaze dropped to Elliot's mouth before jerking away.
"Focus," Elliot murmured, so low only Hale could hear him.
Hale's eyes darkened. "Shut up."
He turned and led them forward. When they reached a corner, Hale held up his hand, waiting, and leaned around to check the next section. Then he pressed back against the wall, unaware of Elliot already doing the same. Suddenly they were sandwiched together in the tight space.
"Clear," Hale whispered, barely audible.
Elliot's mouth was right next to Hale's ear. "Then move."
"Trying to."
"Try harder."
