AllFreeNovel
Share Us
For the rest of the trip, we talked about everything but the mission. Favorite foods, favorite bands, favorite cars. We talked about me buying a Charger, and he offered to go with me when I went to buy it.
“It’ll be a while,” I said. “I just started working again.”
He nodded. “Just let me know.”
Just as we entered the city limits of Harrisburg, Marco cleared his throat. “Listen,” he began, “I don’t talk about my personal life much with my team if you know what I mean.”
I had a feeling I knew where he was going. “So you’d prefer I didn’t mention how spectacular you are in the bedroom?”
He shook his head and laughed. “Something like that. You’re something else, Liam.”
“That’s what I hear.”
We got to the Bradley residence a little after three in the afternoon. It was a modest brick ranch-style house in a quiet neighborhood. Two cars were parked under the carport at the end of the house. Marco and I waited in his car until the other three vehicles carrying the rest of their team arrived. Pete and Andrea pulled up in Pete’s dark-gray Ford F250. Gabe and Dante were close behind in a black Chevy Blazer. Michael arrived last in his dark-blue Ford Explorer.
Marco got out of the car, and I followed close behind him. Nervous excitement ran through me. I felt like we were in one of those action movies. Marco headed for the front door and Michael hurried to join us. “Go easy on him,” Michael said. “He’s young and scared for his sister.”
“I know,” Marco replied gruffly.
“So just…be nice,” Michael urged.
Marco stopped walking. “What the fuck, Michael? I’m running an op, not a babysitting service.”
“I know, I know,” his brother said. “It’s just that Deshawn isn’t used to military types, and you can be kind of scary.”
I snickered, and Marco leveled a glare at me. “He’s not wrong. You get all growly and frowny, and us civilians are all looking around wondering what we did wrong.”
We heard chuckles behind us and turned to find the rest of the team listening avidly to the conversation.
Marco crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Are you done now?”
“Yes, Chief,” Dante, Pete, and Gabe said in unison.
“Sure, Sarge,” Andrea added.
Marco rolled his eyes and muttered something about a bunch of assholes. “If you’re all done with your commentary, I’m going to knock on the door now.”
Before he could knock, the door was opened by a young Black man wearing jeans and a D&D T-shirt. He was tall, maybe six foot two, with a rangy build like a runner. He looked to be in his early to mid-twenties. His eyes widened when he saw all the people standing on his small front porch. He searched the faces until his gaze landed on Michael. He let out a sigh of relief. “You’re here.”
Michael stepped forward and held out his hand. “Hey, Deshawn. It’s good to finally meet you in person.” Deshawn shook his hand while still looking at the rest of the team. After Michael made the introductions, Deshawn stepped back and invited us into the house.
The small entryway opened into the living room, where we were greeted by the sight of a young Black woman wearing jeans and a University of Pennsylvania hoodie. She stood in front of the fireplace with her arms folded across her chest and a scowl on her face that would rival Marco’s. I had to assume this was Deshawn’s sister, Samara. She gestured to our group and said, “What is this? The A-Team?”
I snorted, leaned close to Marco, and whispered, “That would make you Hannibal.”
Marco rolled his eyes at me and stepped forward. “Ms. Bradley, I’m Marco D’Angelo. I’ll be leading the team that’s going to rescue your sister.”
She folded her lips together for a moment before she said, “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. D’Angelo.” She turned a death glare on her brother. “What would have been nicer is if my brother had told me my baby sister was missing.”
The last part ended in a quiet sob. I heard Marco mutter, “Shit.” The rest of the team looked supremely uncomfortable.
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. All these big, bad soldier types couldn’t handle a few tears. I moved closer to Samara. “Hey, Samara,” I said as I held out my hand. “I’m Liam O’Neil. I’m the medic on this operation.”
She took my hand and asked, “Are you a doctor?”
I shook my head. “Nurse practitioner.” I looked around at the team, all shifting uncomfortably while Samara and I talked, and asked, “Is there a place we can talk?”
Samara nodded and gestured for me to follow her into the small kitchen. We sat at the kitchen table, and I said, “I understand why you’re angry with your brother. I’m guessing he was trying to protect you.”
