50. The Weight of Truth
50
THE WEIGHT OF TRUTH
The Knight Tactical hangar gleamed in the morning sun, housing sleek aircraft worth more than most small countries’ GDPs. Ronan leaned against the nose of a modified Bell 429, trying not to think about how this might be the last time they gathered here. Their mission was over. No more team, no more purpose binding them together.
The thought hit harder than he’d expected.
His team—former team now—drifted in one by one, finding their usual spots without discussion. Old habits. Zara hopped up on a work bench, legs swinging. Kenji settled cross-legged on the floor, his back against a tool chest. Izzy and Deke stood near the helicopter’s tail, while Axel took up his customary position against the wall, arms crossed. Griff, as usual, hung just outside the open door.
They weren’t Knight Tactical. Never had been, really. Just a thrown-together squad that somehow became family. And now ...
But that wasn’t why they were here.
“So,” Izzy broke the silence, characteristically direct. “Anyone want to tell me why we’re having this reunion at zero-dark-thirty?”
Kenji’s dark eyes moved from Griff to Ronan and back again. “Something’s been weighing on you both. Since Copenhagen.” It wasn’t a question.
“An excellent catch there, Doctor.” Griff moved to face the group, hands clenched at his sides. His voice stayed steady as he told them about Copenhagen, about the underground lab he and Ronan raided, about the woman strapped to the examination table—young, blonde, looking so much like his sister that for a moment he’d forgotten where he was. About the doctor who’d been using her as his latest test subject. About the shot he’d taken, killing a terrible man, but a civilian non-combatant.
A move the Navy would never condone.
When he finished, the hangar fell silent except for the distant whir of ventilation fans.
Deke moved first, crossing to Griff. “You did what you had to. Combat situation, split-second decision.”
Kenji nodded slowly. “That intel was messed up from the start. We shouldn’t have been there blind like that.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Izzy’s voice was soft, hurt. “We’re a team.”
“My call,” Ronan said. “I ordered Griff to keep quiet. Took responsibility myself. I was CO. Brass was going to end my career no matter what. No reason for Griff to go down in flames, too. I ordered him not to tell anyone.”
“What?” Kenji looked like he’d been slapped. A fair reaction. “Why?”
Now, face-to-face with these extraordinary folks, the full weight of his stupidity crashed down on him. He ducked his head. “I figured there was no need to burden you guys. It was my decision. My consequences.”
“And mine,” Griff added.
Yeah. And that.
“Idiots,” Zara muttered, but there was no heat in it. “Both of you. Carrying this alone.”
Axel hadn’t moved from his position against the tool chest, arms crossed. But his eyes, when they met Ronan’s, held understanding rather than judgment. “That makes a stupid kind of sense. Right instincts. Wrong answer.”
Ronan clenched his jaw against the wave of emotion building behind his throat. Yeah. For sure. He should have had more faith in his team. His friends. Might have kept him from staying away these past three years.
Painful lesson learned.
Movement at the hangar entrance caught his attention. Christian and Jack stood in the doorway, clearly having caught the tail end of Griff’s confession.
“Sir,” Ronan started, but Jack waved him off.
“About time this came out,” Christian said, his face carefully neutral.
“You knew,” Ronan said. It wasn’t a question.
Christian’s lip quirked slightly. “Had a source close to the action.”
The pieces clicked. “The woman on the table. The one we got out.”
“She was the little sister of my Annapolis roomie.” Christian’s voice softened. “Why do you think your squad got called for that mission?”
Ronan stared at him. “You chose us?”
“You guys are the best of the best.” Christian grinned. “I mean, after my team, that is.”
“Your friend’s sister,” Griff said, voice rough. “Is she ... ?”
Christian’s expression gentled. “She’s good. Great, actually. Thanks to you.”
The tension in Griff’s shoulders eased slightly.
“So what now?” Izzy asked, after Jack and Christian had moved on.
“Now,” Ronan said, “we stop carrying secrets that can break us.” He looked at his team—his family—and saw nothing but solidarity looking back. “We do better.” Not what he meant to say. He waved a hand in the air. “I mean, I do better.”
Axel pushed off from the tool chest. “Together,” he said simply, and one by one, the others nodded. “Whatever that means, going forward.”
“Duh. It means no more disappearing,” Izzy said, giving Ronan a sharp look.
He swallowed hard, his throat tight. “Copy that, Petty Officer.”
It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t fixed. But it was a start.
As the team started to disperse, the admiral’s voice rang through the hangar. “Hold up a minute.”
They turned to find him striding toward them, looking more relaxed than Ronan had ever seen him.
“Mrs. Knight’s organizing a party here tonight. Tradition, after successful missions.” His expression turned wry. “And while this isn’t technically an order, I feel obligated to warn you that crossing Mrs. Knight would not be ... advisable.”
A ripple of nervous laughter moved through the group.
“We’ll be here, sir,” Ronan assured him.
The admiral nodded and headed out. The others followed, voices echoing off the hangar walls, until only Ronan and Axel remained.
“So,” Axel said after a moment. “Maya.”
Ronan sighed. “Not you too.”
“Look, I know you. You’re thinking about all the reasons this can’t work, why you should walk away?—”
“It’s called being realistic.”
“It’s called being a coward.” Christian’s voice made them both jump. For a big guy, he moved like a ghost. “Don’t be an idiot.” He considered for a moment. “Or at least try being less of an idiot than you already are.”
He punctuated this with a slap to Ronan’s good shoulder that nearly knocked him sideways.
“Time to put on your big boy pants and take a risk, bro.” Christian’s grin was wolfish. “Unless you’re scared?”
Ronan straightened, rubbing his shoulder. “I hate you both.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Christian started walking away. “See you tonight. Try not to overthink yourself into a corner before then.”
Axel followed, but paused at the hangar door. “He’s right. Bossy and insufferable, but right.”
Ronan watched them go, their words echoing in his head. He looked up at the helicopter beside him, sleek and dangerous and beautiful.
Maybe it was time to jump without a parachute.