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Gunnar sauntered over to Booker, scowling at Calloway’s back as the guy left the ready room. “Who the fuck is the asshole wearing blues?”
Booker sighed. Gunnar wasn’t one to pull punches and would definitely school Calloway if the guy didn’t pull his head out of his ass. “New guy.”
“He’s going to be theex-guyif he doesn’t start playing nice in the sandbox.”
Booker snagged Gunnar’s arm. “I’ll have a chat with him. Promise.”
Gunnar snorted. “You’re way too nice, Hayes. And the jerk’s lucky he’s got you as his partner. Just… don’t be too sweet. I haven’t gotten a reprimand for slugging an officer in some time.”
“I’ll keep your lack of a recent scarlet letter in mind.” Booker headed out, eyeing Calloway as the guy walked around the machine, occasionally sneering at the men loading gear.
Wyatt moved in behind him, nudging his shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll come around after he’s gotten a couple of missions under his belt. For all we know, the cockiness is his way of covering his fear.”
“Or he’s a privileged asshole.”
Wyatt laughed. “I think it’s great the way you see the best in people.”
“It’s a gift.” He headed for the machine, stopping when two men dodged in front of him, pretending they didn’t see him until he’d damn near tripped over them as they cut him off.
Hunter “Wolf” Black and Xavier Larson. Hard core Army Rangers, though Booker knew Xavier had started out as a pilot before hanging up his wings for a sniper rifle. Not something Booker would ever willingly choose, but he respected the hell out of the other man for taking the chance.
Hunter threw himself onto the deck, rolling around for a few moments before allowing Xavier to help him up. Acting like a twelve-year old as he feigned a shoulder injury, shaking his head at Booker. “I think it’s fatal.”
“Doesn’t that act ever get old, Hunter?”
The man took a stumbling step forward, still leaning on Xavier. “Nope. Just you, buddy.”
“That so?” He inched closer. “I’m thinking the commander was wrong. I definitely feel a shit ton of turbulence rolling in.”
Hunter grinned, reaching into his pocket before removing a feather. “Then, you’re really gonna need this, Booker.”
Booker laughed. Xavier and Hunter had been pulling the same, lame Dumbo joke for the past few years. Ever since they’d discovered Booker had been orphaned as a child and grown up in the system, hopping from one foster home to another before spending his last few years with a family who owned a carnival. Booker didn’t think it was that funny, but the two knuckleheads seemed to get a kick out of it. And he knew it had morphed from a stupid prank into a ritual. What guaranteed a safe flight, including a trip home. And he’d be damned if he was the one to break the cycle. Not when it secretly made him feel better, too.
He took the feather, shaking his head. “I thought I had it inside me, all along?”
Hunter shrugged. “With the way you fly, I wouldn’t chance it.”
“Chance what?”
Booker groaned inwardly when Calloway moved in behind Xavier, hands on hips. Lips pursed. Still looking smug. “Just a friendly razzing. Xavier. Hunter. This is John Calloway. My co-pilot, today. John, meet two of the Rangers we’re flying out.”
Calloway gave them each a curt nod, not bothering to extend his hand. “Machine’s ready.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Unless you don’t trust me.”
Great. Now Booker would look like a bastard if he insisted on doing his own checks. “It’s never a matter of trust, Calloway. Just safety.”
“So, that’s a yes… To not trusting me.”
Xavier looked between them, nudging Hunter.
The other man moved forward, offering Calloway another feather. “So Booker doesn’t give you a hard time.”
Calloway took the offering, staring at it as if he thought the men were crazy until they’d sauntered off before tossing it aside. “I’ll be waiting in the chopper.”
Booker closed his eyes, silently counting to ten, before glancing over at Wyatt. “I know. I’ll deal with it before Gunnar slugs the guy.”
Wyatt shrugged. “Oh, don’t. Getting knocked to the ground might be what’s needed. And Gunn’s definitely the guy for the job. He really doesn’t give a shit.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. You ready?”
