“Which languages are your specialty?” I asked him. No chance all he knew was English.
I’d flown these guys on missions before, but we hadn’t sat around and talked.
“Arabic and Russian,” Ford said.
“Jesus,” I muttered. “Don’t like the Latin alphabet?”
Ford shrugged a broad shoulder. Sweat dotted his brow. It coated all of the guys’ skin, but they didn’t seem fazed.Nothingfazed SEALs. Discomfort meant they were alive or some stupid t-shirt phrase.
“Taft here is Mr. Lingo,” Hayes said, tipping his head in Taft’s direction.
The youngest of the group didn’t say anything because we all knew he was the human knowledge sponge and probably spoke ten languages or more. If we sat here long enough and gave him a workbook, he’d probably be fluent in Farsi or something.
I’d hate him for it if he wasn’t so damned nice. I’d actually never heard him speak anything but English.
“What’s your special talent?” I asked Kennedy, then thought better of it. Too late.
He grinned again. “I think you have a good idea of that.”
Ford’s cell pinged, and he pulled it from his pocket, and read the screen.
“We’re a go.”
The men shifted from one second to the next from relaxed and casual to focused and intense.
Taft slid the back door of the bird open, and he hopped down.
Hayes followed.
Kennedy offered me one last wink before I returned it with a middle finger salute.
Ford opened the passenger door but faced me. “Back soon. Be ready.”
I nodded. “Hooyah.”
I watched the four jog off although my focus was on Kennedy. I was used to the guys going off on missions. That was the job–shuffling soldiers, often into danger. Sometimes to their death.
We weren’t in the military now. These men were my colleagues. Friends. One was my on-again, off-again lover. I didn’t want any of them dead.
But something in me became anxious as Kennedy disappeared into the trees, AR raised and ready. Because while I may hate the guy for being a man whore and breaking down my resolve with his charms anyway, it was moments like this that I realized it might not be hate that I felt for him. It was a big fucking problem because while Kennedy would move on after we got back to the States, I just realized I hadn’t thought about Lee Landers once since I’d walked out of the bar with Kennedy the other night.
* * *
KENNEDY
“You slept with Quincy.”Ford’s voice tipped low as he walked directly behind me.
We were in one line, Taft in the front. He’d studied the topo maps and all the other intel we’d collected for this extraction and knew exactly where we were headed. We all did, but he liked point.
We had over a mile to hike to get to the meeting spot, which we’d do in minutes. We’d sit in wait for the kidnappers to arrive, finish them, then get those they’d taken out of the country without any money passing hands.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I replied, giving him a brief glance over my shoulder.
Crickets and other animals were noisy in the woods. Droplets of water from the earlier shower dripped from the canopy above us. My shoulders were wet from it. The air wasn’t overly hot, but it was muggy as hell.
It was nothing like the sandbox of Afghanistan or Iraq. The only Mexican sand was on stunning beaches hundreds of miles from here.
“She’s a member of the team,” he added.