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“He’s always strung a little tight anyway,” Rush added. “But he’ll ease up.”
The men exchanged looks over my head that I couldn’t read, then fell silent. They each looked out their perspective windows indicating the conversation was over. That left me to stare straight ahead at the King cousins.
I just wanted to do my job, find SSG Colby Harris, and not have these men hating me the entire time it took to accomplish that goal. Was that so much to ask?
* * *
“Damn.”
I looked over at Alden. We were standing on the firing line, fifteen feet back, working on our transitions between the M4 rifles and our pistols. The training was simulating our rifles running dry and us being out of ammunition and needing to go to our pistols to keep returning fire with the enemy.
“Great job, Kitten,” Torque said from my other side.
I was standing between the two men. “Thanks,” I said with a proud smile. I was so happy with my performance I ignored the nickname Torque insisted on using for me.
The instructors at the academy had said I was a natural from the moment I’d picked up a gun. I’d never shot one before, but they’d just said that meant they could teach me the right way and didn’t have to undo years of bad habits.
Keller was stalking around us, watching every move I made. His actions had nerves jangling in my chest, but I knew what to do. I’d done it so many times it was second nature at this point. When it came to shooting, I didn’t need to think, I just performed.
“Good,” Keller said, his tone just barely softer than normal. He hadn’t bit my head off, so I’d take it as a job well done.
Pride swelled inside my chest. I liked it when they were pleased with what I’d done. I wanted to reassure them that I wasn’t going to be a liability.
Rush was sitting behind us on the top of the picnic benches, eating a sandwich. The guy seemed to always have food nearby and yet he was lean, all corded muscle without an ounce of fat on him. It was the nightmare workouts Keller subjected everyone to.
Keller had explained that this was a practice run to see me in action. He’d read my file with the CIA, but he wanted to make sure no one had embellished my skills. It’d been hard not to roll my eyes at him. It didn’t surprise me that he didn't think I could do anything right. I hadn’t gotten to show him my skills before today. I had another that wasn’t noted down in my file.
There was a reason I was one of the best agents the CIA had. I wasn’t too modest to pretend like I wasn’t. It was also the reason I ended up stuck in D.C. behind a desk versus going out into the field like most of the other operatives. I was a decent hacker—I wasn’t winning any prizes, but I could hold my own—and I had finely tuned instincts that I listened to. Combining that with my ability to recognize obscure patterns left me in a position of unique skills. They often led me in the right direction and I closed more cases than ninety percent of agents.
It was why I’d been made the liaison for the military and it was why they’d put me on this case specifically. I already had working theories on connections between SSG Harris and the terrorist Roj. Right now wasn’t the time to worry about that, in a few days I could resume the investigation.
For now, Keller ran us through drill after drill and with each passing moment I saw Alden’s face relaxing.
It hadn’t been hard to figure out that Alden was worried I was going to slow them down and be a liability, just like his cousin. I hoped this demonstration would help set him at ease. I could take care of myself. We hadn’t even sparred. Keller had planned it for a few of the nights, but we kept getting pulled into meetings with their bosses.
Each time we had to forgo training for a meeting Keller got angrier. I couldn’t blame him. He was a man of action, not words. He was trying to prepare us for what we were about to step into and his bosses wanted to discuss—over and over—how he planned to execute the mission. At some point they were just going to have to let us do things our way and stay out of it. That wouldn’t happen until we were over in Iraq, though.
Sometime during the week, I’d started thinking of this team as mine. I had three of the four figured out. It was that last one I couldn’t quit pin down.
“Fire.”
I jumped, late to pull my pistol since I’d been deep in thought, and my bullet whizzed past as the target turned to the side. I’d missed.
“What the fuck was that?” Keller yelled from directly behind me.
Even through my ear protection his voice vibrated inside my mind. He’d bellowed so loud, I jumped again.
“Sorry,” I told him, working hard to keep a hold of my patience. We’d been out here for hours and this was my first mistake.
“Sorry isn’t going to cut it, Princess,” he snarled at me, coming around and standing in front of me. He stepped into my personal space and we were almost nose to nose. “If you’re going to get distracted out there while we’re in a firefight, then you may as well stay here.”
Fury and guilt bubbled up inside me until they boiled over. “I’m doing my fucking best!” I screamed right back in his face, then stepped back a few paces to get some breathing room. “I’m sorry that’s not good enough for you, but this is all I have.” My voice was lower now, I wasn’t screaming anymore, but I was still pissed.
Anger took hold of me, I stomped over to Torque, who had the remote for the targets. I snatched it out of his hand and pressed the button. The targets turned, I dropped the remote and drew my pistol. I emptied the magazine into the target, leaving a hole in it about the size of a tennis ball.
I slammed the pistol down on a table and ripped my ear protection off my head, chucking them at Keller’s chest. They bounced off his stupid muscles and I was so angry I wasn’t even mollified by the contrite look on his stupid face. I flipped him off.
Ignoring all of them, I turned around and started walking. I didn’t want to speak to any of them. Keller had pushed and pushed and once again he’d gotten what he wanted, a reaction from me. I walked down the road, heading away from the range.
