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Haunted by her cold control and fearless sacrifice.
“What’s going on with you, Flyte?”
Chris turned to see Fallon, eyes hidden behind aviators, his mouth a flat line. Chris didn’t know the man well enough to know if this was his normal greeting, but it didn’t mesh with the lieutenant commander he’d gotten to know over the last few weeks.
Could he trust this guy?
Chris was nobody here. Sure, he was a seasoned SEAL with years on the teams, but not this team. Not these guys. He was best known for two failed ops.
Now three.
In comparison, Fallon had been on Operation Icarus, which, while not a SEAL success, hadn’t been a failure either. And Dr. Diana Edwards was associated with Dr. Morgan Adler.
“What’s your take on Edwards? Based on what Adler said?”
Fallon gave a short nod, as if Chris had said just the right thing.
He hated these games. The uncertainty of new teammates. These guys were supposed to have his back one hundred percent. But he feared he’d lost their trust and respect because he’d hesitated when it mattered most.
Motherfucker.
He should quit now.
But if he did, what would happen when Edwards triggered her tracker? Would Fallon and the others give it their all? She’d screwed them all over, but she’d only asked one SEAL—Chris himself—to trust her.
And by hesitating, Chris had defaulted to that promise.
He had to trust her.
He had to save her.
“Morgan is a friend,” Fallon began. “A real friend, not a Christmas-cards-only kind of connection.”
Chris couldn’t help but smile. “You send Christmas cards?”
Fallon smirked. “No. But Morgan does. She, her husband, their kid, plus a dog. Disgustingly cute. Not at all what I expected of Master Sergeant Pax Blanchard.”
“Her husband’s a Green Beret. Part of the Icarus op.”
Fallon nodded. “He’s out of the Army now. Working for the military in the DC area. I hear Morgan is pregnant with their second child.”
“It’s September. That Christmas card update isn’t due for a few months.”
“Exactly. I see them when I’m in the DC area to visit my sister. Pax, Morgan, and I go out for drinks and reminisce about the good old days in Djibouti. Freya Lange and her husband usually join us too.
“I know Freya and Morgan vet their recruits to the artifact protection game very carefully, and if they say Diana Edwards called off her rescue because she knows something about Makram Rafiq, I’m on board. I know some on the team don’t buy it, but Freya…she’s not exactly the trusting type. It’s her word, more than anything, that tells me Edwards is on the level. And she was definitely signaling four of diamonds in a way she expected to be noticed. She knew you had a bodycam. She wasn’t talking to you. She was talking to Morgan and Freya.”
As much as Chris wanted to be absolved of his role in the fiasco, he couldn’t simply nod and believe. Maybe that would come later.
“So what’s next?”
“We wait for Edwards to trigger her tracker.”
“That could be weeks. Months, even.”
“Two months at the outside.”
“What if we get pulled to another op?”
