He tried to shake it off, but the dread and the loss were only adding to his turmoil.
He sighed, rubbed his face, and looked at his watch.
They could be spun up at any moment, and that included Rose. She was now assigned as their permanent CIA liaison until this mission was complete. Discover who was behind No Safe Haven, the group who had set off three devastating attacks on American and French citizens in Paris only months ago. One directed at an American businessman Aaron Trasker and the Trasker Hotel, one on American Marines at the Arc de Triomphe, and a third on American tourists at the Eiffel Tower. Tragically, Rose’s sister and her husband—newlyweds—had both been killed by the Eiffel Tower suicide bomber.
The agency was working on all assets and information regarding the elusive and dangerous group. It seemed that members were recruited through kidnapping and coercion of loved ones and by the use of an implant injected under the coerced person’s skin with a poison vial and a tracker. It was sophisticated terrorism. He and Karasu had gone to meet with the doctor who had invented the implant at his office in Geneva, Dr. Hans Gruber. His main use of the Gruber Vial, as it was named, was to deliver medication and other helpful drugs through the implant.
He and Karasu had discovered the doctor had been murdered, but Preacher’s resourceful partner had gotten them inside the office to download the doctor’s hard drive. Company analysts were still working on those leads. He still had moments of broken flashbacks where bits and pieces of what happened after they left the Gruber Institute plagued him with tantalizing snatches of…sensual memories. He could never get a handle on them and had to chalk it up to the feverish wishes of a desperate man. His plan was to talk to Rose when he got the chance. He slipped inside and passed the coded, locked door to the cages. Down the hall, just ahead of him, he saw GQ.
“Hey, man,” Preacher said, catching up to him. Needing empty, frivolous conversation to clear out his overheated brain, he nudged the younger man and said, “How did it go last night with the enthusiastic Tiffany?”
The girl, one of many who often hung out at SEAL bars just trying to bag a frogman, wasn’t someone he’d ever pursue, but to each their own. He was attracted to unique, not someone that looked and acted just like every other woman in the room. Someone like Karasu.
His attraction to her was more than physical. Preacher was fascinated by her intelligence, intuition, and playfulness. Karasu meant raven in Japanese, and she was every bit as mysterious and exotic as the wise bird. Tiffany was a sparrow compared to his raven.
He thought GQ was playing the field, seeing what options he had. It seemed like a waste of time. Preacher wasn’t going to say he was the smartest guy in the room, but he often was, except, apparently, when it came to Karasu. So, maybe he didn’t know jack shit.
“She’s a social media instigator,” GQ said with disgust and a roll of his eyes.
“That doesn’t sound good,” Preacher said.
“It’s not,” GQ replied.
“Isn’t that influencer?” Kelly “Breakneck” Gatlin said, coming alongside them.
GQ stopped in the hall, bringing both his teammates to a halt. “Fuck, Break. How the hell do you know about that crap? You don’t even have social media on your phone.”
“Hey, I know shit about the world. I have sisters. Just because I don’t wear out my thumbs texting doesn’t mean I don’t get it.”
GQ put his hands up to his temples and mimed his mind exploding. “Kid, you surprise the hell out of me on a regular basis. Keeps me on my toes.”
Breakneck gave GQ a smug grin. “Good. I like being a man of mystery.”
They entered the ready room, and it was clear Carter “Boomer” Findley heard the last of the conversation. He got that damn gleam in his eye. Breakneck was the Fucking New Guy or FNG and with that title came all the shit the team could throw at him, including the crap jobs no one wanted to do and were always left up to the lowest man on the totem pole.
“What was that? Man of mystery? How so?”
“He surprises me, Boomer. So what?” GQ said.
Preacher was aware one of their pretty boys had little tolerance for bullying and had to wonder why, since GQ didn’t seem like he was the type of guy to be bullied at all. Not that Boomer was a bully. He wasn’t. It was just Team Guy crap and they all participated in it on a regular basis. Everyone loved Breakneck, and like brothers, they had to give the youngest a hard time. There wasn’t a man on this team who didn’t have Break’s back. The kid had dug in and never complained…ever. He did his job and whatever was asked of him. A true SEAL, stoic and competent at a very young age. Break was an old soul.
But that wasn’t surprising. Preacher saw it often in the men he served with. Break had been their top choice from Green Team, and they’d been lucky to have the first pick, because when Ice took him off the roster, there were a lot of disappointed Tier One master chiefs that day.
“Wait. Does this have anything to do with the straphanger you took home last night, pretty boy?” Boomer said with a wide grin.
“Yeah, as a matter of fact, it does.” GQ walked to the table and pulled out a chair. “She took pictures of me in full frontal while I was sleeping.”
“No shit,” Boomer said, slapping the table with the flat of his hand with a hard laugh. “Were you saluting at the time?”
GQ grabbed his package and hefted it. “I’m always saluting, man. Have big dick, will travel.” He sat down with a smirk.
“This is an interesting conversation to walk in on,” Iceman said as Jayesh “Kodiak” Lyta, Archer “Hazard” Booth, Cooper “Skull” Sullivan and their MWD Bones walked in with him. All four of them were smiling. Taking a seat toward the head of the table, Ice turned his chair to look at GQ, while their three other teammates took other open seats.
“I have to second that,” Hazard said. “What’s up, brother?”
GQ shrugged, fist-bumping Hazard. The two were practically twins when it came to the looks department—blond, tall, their features striking. “Well, it’s true.”
“Yeah, we can have a measuring contest once the briefing is over,” Ice said with a heavy dose of sarcasm.
“I wouldn’t want to embarrass anyone,” GQ said smugly.
“No one wants to go up against a measuring contest with me,” Rose said as she headed to the front, meeting all the guys’ eyes with a steady, steely look.
“I think my testosterone just squealed like a little girl and went running from the room,” Skull drawled in such a monotone, unaffected way it was like he was commenting on the weather.
For a moment everyone was quiet, then they all burst out laughing. Rose cracked a smile. “Let’s get down to business.”
“So to speak,” Boomer said, snickering, setting the guys off again.
“Focus up,” Ice said with an apologetic look to Rose, but Preacher knew she was well aware of the kind of knuckleheads she was dealing with. She had the disaster with her mother’s garden and yard fresh in her memory.
She put up a photo and Preacher recognized it immediately. All mirth fled, hollowing him out in an instant. His mouth went dry, and his heart pounded. It was of a fountain in the middle of a town square. He’d been there before. You almost died there. It’s where he’d let down one of the closest brothers he’d ever had.