Page 69 of Deep Cover

Rome arched a brow. “Did Command clear this op?”

“Doesn’t matter. We’re going in now.”

A beat filled the silence.

“Rorke, talk to me about entry points,” Cannon went on as if he hadn’t just made a call before the paperwork caught up to him. He trusted his gut first. Justified it to Command after. Dealt with the fallout if there ever was any.

Still, it was one thing to play with the lives of the team and another to include Caryssa.

He caught Cannon’s eye.

She’s an FBI analyst, he wanted to argue and knowing it was futile.

His CO held his gaze for a beat, steady and unapologetic at dragging Caryssa into the op.

She was FBI. They needed her presence in that warehouse. Didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

Cannon scanned the team. “We roll in three hours. Gear up, run your checks.” He touched on Rivers again. “Get your head straight before then.”

The meeting broke up. Rorke and Rome headed for the armory and O remained glued to his laptop, digging for anything useful before they rolled out.

Rivers rounded the table to Caryssa’s side. Staring down at the top of her head, his heart squeezed. “Three hours,” he said low enough for only her to hear.

Her expression shivered for only a second, that mask slipping and returning in the same blink. “Yeah.”

Dammit. This is gonna hurt like hell.

He already felt it coming the way a man felt the weather changing in an old wound long before the pain hit. If they had three hours until they deployed, he would try his best to spend them by her side.

He dropped into the seat beside her. “What can I help you with?”

She met his gaze, her hazel eyes brighter with emotion. “I need a plan in place to for how I stay in comms with you all once we’re inside. I’ve never coordinated on a live tactical entry. I don’t know your protocols.”

He nodded and began working through logistics with her, but neither of them said what they really wanted to say—what needed to be said.

* * * * *

Caryssa packed her bag like a woman preparing for a funeral. Her own, maybe.

She folded shirts she barely remembered bringing and zipped her laptop into its case. She zipped her go bag shut and left it at the foot of the bed.

She was most likely leaving after the warehouse. She wouldn’t spend another night in this room.

She wouldn’t spend another night with Reid.

As she stared at her badge and sidearm, she pondered this feeling of detachment inside her. These things seemed to belong to someone else’s life.

Even before Reid left her life, she’d spent years building an identity out of that badge. Special Agent Caryssa Lane, the one who found what nobody else could find.

She’d never once questioned whether it was enough. It had to be enough because there was nothing else for her.

Standing here now, staring at the same badge that had gave her last six years a purpose, she felt the ground shift under all that she knew.

For a moment, her eyes blurred and then cleared, but the heaviness didn’t fade. Would she be leaving directly from the warehouse, catching the first flight back to DC after the raid? Or would Reid be walking her through the tunnels, teasing her about hoods and blindfolds and ripping her heart out all over again?

She didn’t think she could sit in a vehicle with him knowing it was the last drive they’d ever take together or without begging him to turn around and take her back.

To let her stay.