Page 26 of False Flag

Rand’s stick glanced off the cue ball, sending it to scratch in the side pocket as the eight ball sat untouched.

Staci tried to keep a straight face. “Before you say yes, I need to ask, were you supposed to hit the white ball with the stick thingy like that?”

Rand shook his head, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he gave Staci an amused glare. “Kira love, you have no idea what you’ve done.”

“Crap. She’s a shark, isn’t she?”

He nodded. “She and Morgan used to hustle together when Morgan was in grad school.”

“Oh my god. I would pay to see that,” Kira said.

“So would I,” Jake said.

“Unfortunately, I lived it. The night Morgan introduced us.”

Kira tilted her head back and laughed. “How much did you lose?”

“My pride and two hundred dollars.”

Pax walked up and handed Staci a beer. “It was epic. Worth every penny.” He clinked his glass with hers and took a drink.

“Says the guy who didn’t have to pay up,” Rand grumbled.

“Exactly.”

Staci took a sip, then batted her eyelashes at Rand, addressing him over the rim of the frosty mug. “Double or nothing rematch? I’m sure Morgan will be happy to come out of retirement.”

“I’m not falling for it. We’ve got a wedding and honeymoon to pay for.” He grabbed the triangle rack from the slot and began pulling balls from the pockets. “But I am willing to play for pride.”

Play began with Jake sinking a stripe on the break. They settled in. Staci worked hard to keep her focus on the game, not her partner. It wasn’t easy, because she could feel his eyes on her every time she leaned over the table to take a shot. They played two games, winning the first, losing the second.

But the pleasure and excitement wasn’t in winning or losing. No, it was the sideways glances, the buzz of energy as they stood by the table and whispered thoughts on which shot to take, and the jolt of awareness she felt when his fingers touched hers with a passed pool cue. It was, quite simply, the most fun she’d had playing the game since she and Morgan had fleeced men for money and entertainment before her best friend had become a respectable mother of two.

It was probably a good thing the spell was broken when more guests arrived. Specifically, Leah Ellis and her husband, Nate “Hawk” Sifuentes, along with Chase Johnston and his wife Eden O’Keeffe. Both men worked for Raptor, but it was Leah who designed drones that had helped save Diana and Kira in very different ways.

Chase was a hand-to-hand combat expert who had given Kira—and, in the last year, Staci—private self-defense lessons. He wasn’t a fan of guns, so it was no surprise he’d skipped the war game. Staci hugged him and Eden, who’d become a friend as she participated in some of Staci’s one-on-one sessions as a sparring partner, the lessons benefiting them both.

Staci then nervously greeted Leah Ellis, who was nothing short of a miracle. The woman was an extremely wealthy engineer who designed tiny drones in her spare time that had saved many lives. Some of whom Staci knew personally, but also hundreds—maybe thousands?—of others who would have been injured or killed if Diana hadn’t been able to stop the artifact traffickers, or Kira hadn’t been located in time.

Without Leah Ellis, several of the people in this very room could be dead.

Vicki Graves—FMV’s resident hacker—looked at Leah with similar reverence. Staci wasn’t the only one to have a massive girl crush.

With the new arrivals, nearly everyone settled into the seating area and enjoyed drinks, appetizers, and light conversation until it was announced that the dinner buffet was ready. They chose to fill their plates, then return to the tables in the lounge instead of moving to the long tables in the large mess hall.

Staci chose the last seat at a table with Vicki and two SEALs—one of whom was Jeff Dillard. She gave him a sweet smile and said, “Perfect. This way, I can decide if I want to sleep with either of you after I’m done with what’s-his-name.”

Dillard’s eyes widened with alarm while Vicki and the other SEAL laughed.

“I think his name is Burns,” Vicki said.

Behind her, Jake said, “It’s definitely Burns.”

Staci laughed and glanced over her shoulder to see him taking a seat one table over. She turned back to Dillard. “I would prefer to skip the part where I explain sexism to you.”

“I wasn’t⁠—”

“Yes, you were,” Vicki said. “Now own it or leave so we all can enjoy our dinner.”