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“Doing some prep in the van,” TJ answered. “I’ll give him the details he needs when we’re en route.” TJ didn’t look pleased about Sloane missing the team meeting.
Red frowned and glanced at me. She was downright pissed about it. That, no doubt stemmed from worry, although today’s mission should be almost as safe as the one at the deli. Infiltrate, snap photos, run IDs, sweep up anyone who popped as a known or possible counter-intel agent. But I felt the same worry, that niggle of doubt at the back of my neck.
“Anything else?” TJ asked. “Bennet, you good?”
“Roger that, TJ,” Bennet answered.
The team filed out of the briefing room, saying goodbye to Jensen, Red, and me, the ones left behind. Bennet shook my hand and patted my shoulder.
“Weird turn of events, me being outside the wire,” he said, referring to the fact that he was usually stuck back at the office managing things while I was in the field.
“Be safe out there,” I said, then immediately regretted it. It was like saying “good luck” inside a theater. It was just begging for trouble.
TJ stopped in front of Jensen, Red, and me. “Jensen will have a lot going on. Extra eyes and ears won’t be a bad thing,” he said.
“We both know Sloane’s not a field doc,” Red said quietly. “The team knows it, too.”
“Alder puts the probability of the mission requiring a medic at less than 3 percent,” he said.
“Okay.” Red’s shoulders drifted down about an inch. “Her I trust.”
Alder’s assessment really had eased her mind. I was glad. But I was also more skeptical. Looking out at the bright, beautiful, almost-summer day should have lifted my spirits. Then again, the day my parents had died in a horrible car accident had begun with them driving off in Mom’s convertible on a gorgeous spring day.
Goddamn, I was skewing dark today. If Alder was right, and I hoped she was, the odds were overwhelmingly in our favor that I was wrong.
“You might want to grab some breakfast before the team goes online,” Red said. “Jensen doesn’t allow food or coffee in the IT room.”
“And water only under extreme circumstances,” Jensen added. “But hurry up kids, and don’t stop for a quickie. The channels go live in an hour.”
“Charming, Jensen,” Red called to his back. She reached for my hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll deliver you to Jensen in plenty of time.”
“Wait a minute. Deliver me? Should I take that to mean you don’t plan to watch the mission?”
“I’m suspended. Sloane’s on deck. The team doesn’t need me.”
I recognized a pity party for one when I saw it. “Come on.” I tugged her toward the kitchen. “You pour the coffee and I’ll scramble some eggs. We need to have a chat, Dr. Bond.”
* * *
Samantha
Just when Ithought I couldn’t find Evan Prescott any sexier, he stood in front of the kitchen stove, pulled on one of Jensen’s aprons, and proceeded to cook for me. He turned on a burner, set a frying pan over the flame, and cut a pat of butter into the pan.
He pointed to the French press near me. “Would you pour? I like to drink while I cook. Coffee if it’s breakfast, wine if it’s dinner.”
I poured two cups and slid his across the counter to him. “What if it’s brunch?” I asked as I stirred skim milk into mine.
He arched an eyebrow. “Then I would hope you know how to make mimosas.”
I didn’t, but if that was all it would take to entice him into making me brunch, maybe while naked, how hard could it be? “I’ll figure it out.”
He cracked several eggs into a bowl and started whisking. “Did I ever tell you the story of how I met Bennett?”
“Ever, in the long two weeks we’ve known each other?” I peered over the rim of my cup. “I think you know you didn’t.”
“It was at Bagram. A couple of his men had been captured by a local warlord. My team was brought in to negotiate their release.” He poured the eggs into the pan and they sizzled. “Bennet and I hated each other on sight.” He shook his head as he adjusted the flame. “Arrogant as fuck.”
“That’s what he said about you?”
