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CHAPTER 13
Evan
The afternoon dragged on forever.After Red and I agreed to talk, I could barely think about anything other than being alone with her later that night, but between the debriefs and her role in questioning Hank, the entire afternoon and half the evening slipped away from us.
At 1900 hours, 7 p.m. civilian time, we gathered for a meeting in the SCIF. TJ shared that Alder’s background check and his and Red’s conversation with Hank had cleared her old CO of all suspicion. Unfortunately, Hank hadn’t known any more than he’d told us at the deli. Now he was resting comfortably in a safehouse until HEAT could determine whether he was in danger from Carbonados. The lack of new information meant I would stay with the team a bit longer. TJ said it was so I could continue to help them, but we all knew it also to keep me safe from the mercenaries they were chasing.
To end the briefing, TJ announced that X was returning to Chicago the next day. Red did not look thrilled with that news, and I wondered if bringing in the head honcho had anything to do with the suspension TJ had threatened for disobeying his direct orders.
By the time the meeting broke up, I was about three hours past my patience limit for getting Red alone. Outside the SCIF, I took my phone from Jensen and headed for the stairwell. I was deep in thought about how long I should give her to get to her room before I joined her when TJ stepped in front of me.
“Hold up, Prescott. Team celebration in the lounge.”
My thin veneer of civility was about to shatter, but TJ had turned out to be a pretty decent guy, after all. We’d agreed to a kind of truce and maybe even started a friendship over the past few days. Besides, he was my de facto host and had talked X into letting me temporarily join his team, so if he wanted me to join their bonding exercise, I couldn’t be an asshole about it. Well, I probably could, but I shouldn’t.
“Hey,” he said as we walked toward the lounge, “good job today. Thank you. And thanks again for taking care of Bond last weekend. As much as she pisses me off, I don’t know what we’d do without her.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, and really meant it. Any time she needed to fall into my open arms or bed or screwed-up life, I was there for it. Which, come to think of it, might be pretty damn close to the arrangement I was about to suggest to her.
She and the rest of the team were already in the lounge. She stood beside Sparks, each of them holding a red, fizzy drink. The rest of the team were tentatively lifting their own glasses off the tray Jensen shoved in front of them.
He turned toward TJ and me and grinned. “Here comes the rest of the party. Grab a glass, boys.”
I picked up my drink and moved to Red’s side. “What is it this time?” I asked her and Sparks.
“We have no idea,” Red said.
“Smells like a Christmas tree, though,” Sparks said.
I sniffed the drink. Yep, pine needles. And something... “Is that sulfur? Rotten eggs?”
“Sometimes that’s a fermentation thing,” Penn said from behind us. “Jensen, have you been distilling your own whiskey again?”
I shot a questioning look at Red.
“I don’t know if it’s true or a rumor,” she said. “It was before my time. But I’m officially giving you a doctor’s note to opt out of this, given your reaction to Jensen’s last concoction.”
I stared into my glass and considered letting Jensen take the blame for my reaction Sunday, but hell, I liked that guy, too. “It wasn’t the drink,” I whispered to her. “Although that was disgusting. It was the conversation.”
“The conversation.” She furrowed her brow, then frowned. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m over it.” At least as much as I could be. But we would discuss it later.
TJ stood in front of the bar and lifted his glass, then glanced at Jensen. The rest of us fell silent.
“Alpha Team, I give you the Fizzy Red Riding Hood.” Jensen took a bow while the team booed.
“All right,” TJ said, and the team fell silent again. “Once again it’s time to toast the best damn team in HEAT, and, as is becoming our habit, our temporary team member. I know this was an easy day. I wish they were all this painless, but we know they won’t be. So tonight, let’s savor the win.”
Jensen lifted his glass high. “And tomorrow, prepare to meet our maker.”
We all stared at him.
“As in X,” he said. “You remember she’s coming, right?”
“We thought you were threatening us with yet another recipe,” Kessler said.
“Seriously, three new drinks in one week could finish us all,” Alder added.
