Chapter 15
The desert had a different kind of quiet at night.
The heat bled off the hard-packed ground in slow waves, and the plywood walls of the SRF training village cast long, sharp shadows under the floodlights.
The smell of sawdust from the newly constructed course, mixed with the sulfur smell of spent munitions, hung in the air, sharp and acrid.
Talon adjusted the camera angle to improve his view inside Room Two and then said on comms, “We good, Dude?”
“Roger that, Skipper. I’m recording still, right?”
“Correct. I want them to watch and identify their mistakes during their internal training later today.” He watched as the SRF squad stacked at the next breach point.
Jug’s voice came over the channel, low and steady, keeping the men focused.
Jug should have his own team, but the man didn’t want it.
Not yet, at least. Talon would keep after him, though.
Since he and Shelly had gotten married, the man had settled into one of the best examples of a leader that Talon had the privilege of seeing.
In the last year, his entire team had gelled to the point of being unbreakable.
So, urging Jug out of the nest was kind of counterintuitive, but it was a step forward for him.
One he’d offer and keep offering. Jug was that damn good.
Talon’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and smiled at the screen. Riley.
He checked the time—just past twenty-two hundred. He shouldn’t answer since they were balls deep in training … but he did.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said after he muted his comms.
There was a pause, just long enough for him to picture her smile on the other end. “Hey. Are you busy?”
He stepped back into the shadow of a wall, eyes still on the SRF team moving into position.
“Night exercise. I’m sorry I sent you a text instead of calling.
Can’t explain the particulars.” The government had shortened their training window officially and was sending another team to them at the six-week point.
It was fucking irresponsible, but he wasn’t driving this training.
The government of Burundu was. He’d sent a scathing email to Ronan and his dad to explain the bullshit they were dealing with and the danger of pulling the SRF team out before they were ready.
“You did, and I do understand,” she said, her voice light, but he could hear the faint thread of disappointment under it.
“I’m sorry I can’t get over there tonight. Jug’s running the stack, but I need to stay on-site.”
A soft exhale. “I knew that the second you texted. I just wanted to hear your voice. I’ve found that I’ve become addicted to it.”
He closed his eyes briefly. “I don’t like missing tonight.”
“It’s fine, Talon. You’ve got work to do. I really do understand, and I’ll see you soon.”
The casual tone didn’t fool him. He could hear something under the words, the same thing he’d heard in her voice that morning when she told him it was “nothing.”
“You sure you’re all right?”
A soft laugh came over the comms, practiced and easy. “I’m fine. I just wanted to check in. How many recruits have you broken tonight?”
He huffed out a quiet breath. “More than half the team’s still alive. I’ll take it as progress.”
That earned a genuine laugh, warmer, but he still felt the distance.
“Tomorrow night,” he said, making it more promise than a suggestion.
“That sounds lovely,” she agreed.
The SRF team leader’s voice cut sharp over the comms, pulling Talon’s focus back to the field. “I’ve got to go, babe.”
“I know. Goodnight, Talon.”
He ended the call, slipping the phone back into his pocket, but her voice lingered. It was warm and steady on the surface, but with just enough of something beneath it to keep him thinking something was wrong.
Jug’s voice cut over comms. “Skipper, you coming back to work, or you gonna daydream over there?”
Talon unmuted his comms and looked across the room at Jug. The shit-eating grin on his face knew more than Talon would like, so he flipped his friend off and ordered, “Finish the run.”
His team’s laughter made him smile. They were pretty happy with the fact that he had a woman. It gave them something to rib him about. He didn’t give a shit.
Jug gave the SRF team the green light, and the training session started. But even as the team breached, part of his mind stayed with Riley.
The floodlights threw harsh white light across the plywood walls of the training village. The light cut the night into sharp edges of shadow and brilliance. Beyond the perimeter, the desert lay black and silent, the air cooling just enough to make the night bearable.
Talon glanced at his tactical readout on the monitors. 22:27. The SRF team was stacked at the breach point, their faces set, gear tight, weapons at the ready.
Over the comms, Jug’s voice was steady. “Team One, confirm comms check.”
The replies came back crisp.
Talon keyed his mic. “Copy. On my mark.” He gave the signal to Jug.
The breach charge cracked loud in the night, the shock echoing off the walls. Dust plumed into the air. The sharp explosion of spent powder mixed with the dry air and dust of the desert, obscuring the team’s infiltration. They flowed through the breach, boots thudding against packed dirt.
“Left clear!”
“Right clear!”
“Moving!”
Wolf’s voice came in over the command channel from his overwatch position. “Stack spacing is clean. No muzzle sweeps. They’ve been listening.”
Talon’s eyes tracked the movement, his mind cataloging every detail. He nodded and almost to himself he admitted, “Much better than last week.”
Jug chuckled low. “That’s not a high bar, boss.”
Which got chuckles from the rest of the team because it was the absolute truth. The SRF team moved on to the second structure, executing a textbook peel to cover the open approach. Talon’s comms lit with their internal chatter.
“Contact front, engaging!”
“Push right!”
The rhythm was there now as they moved from corner to corner and room to room. Not perfect, but smoother.
Hammer’s voice came in from his position shadowing the middle of the stack. “They’re not tripping over themselves this time. I’m almost impressed.”
Talon allowed himself a faint grin. “Don’t get all huggy and feely on me, Hammer.”
The SRF team hit the third structure, and Talon’s attention sharpened. From past experiences with training scenarios, this was where discipline tended to fall apart.
Inside, the confined space echoed with the crack of simulated rounds. Wolf reported from above. “Rear guard is lagging. SRF Four just let his sector open.”
“Call it,” Talon said, his voice clipped as he shot a glance at Jug.
Jug keyed his mic. “Team One, rear, watch your corner!”
The correction snapped the formation back in place, the breach flowing again. A lull fell as the team moved into their final clear, the radio chatter easing into the steady sound of boots on dirt. Talon’s gaze swept the shadows beyond the floodlights.
And in that quiet second, his thoughts drifted back to Riley. Her voice on the phone had been easy, steady, the way she always played it. But he’d heard the weight beneath it. Just enough to keep him thinking.
Jug’s voice pulled him back. “Skipper, you drifting on me?”
Talon flipped him off. “No, I’m watching the field. Why are you watching me?”
“He got you there.” Stryker laughed. “But, man, they are improving.”
They were, and it was a damn good thing.
Because soon they’d be dropped into the real world without enough reps, without the training engrained into their minds and muscles.
As the team exited the last structure, Wolf’s voice came through.
“Final room clear. Exercise complete. Time, twelve minutes, thirty-four seconds.”
“Better,” Talon said. “Still too slow.”
Hammer’s chuckle rolled over the comms. “Want me to tell them that, or do you want to break their hearts yourself?”
“I’ll do it at the after-action,” Talon said.
Jug grinned beside him. The harsh light of the training field floodlights threw his face into sharp relief. “You going to tell me what’s eating at you, or am I supposed to guess?”
“Guess,” Talon said, eyes still on the SRF team forming up.
“All right. My guess?” Jug’s tone was mild, but the grin was sharp. “There’s a problem with Riley. I mean not relationship-wise, but something else. I know I’m just like that when Shelly has a work problem, and I can’t fix it.”
Talon didn’t answer. Which, as Jug knew, was its own kind of answer. Yeah, something was off with her, but she wasn’t giving him anything to grasp onto. Not yet, at least.
They stepped forward as the SRF team assembled, sweat running in rivulets down their faces. But their rifles were slung properly. All the small corrections were tallying.
“Better tonight,” Talon told them. “But still not good enough. Tomorrow, we run it again. Cleaner. Faster. Get water. Debrief in fifteen.”
The team moved off, and Talon stood in the cooling air, the floodlights buzzing overhead.
His focus was on the next exercise. But in the back of his mind, Riley’s voice lingered, and he was good with that. He could be concerned about her while still doing his job. If he were honest with himself, and he always was … he’d been doing it for the past year.
Fifteen minutes later, the SRF squad stood in a loose half-circle under the floodlights, rifles slung, uniforms streaked with dust and sweat.
Talon scanned the formation, letting the silence stretch long enough for the team to feel it.
“You’re improving,” he said finally. “But improvement isn’t the goal. Competence is the goal. And you’re not there yet.”
Jug stepped forward, voice clipped as he said, “Stack discipline at the first breach was solid. No one jammed the door. Clear improvement from last week.”
“Your spacing held through the second structure,” Talon added. “That kept you alive.”
Wolf’s voice came in from the sideline. “Rear guard, you must watch your sector. SRF Four left his corner open. That’s a fast way to die. Make note of it, my man, and clean that up tomorrow.”
Hammer’s gravelly tone cut across the group. “Speed’s better, but you’re still thinking in the wrong way. Night ops aren’t any slower because it’s dark. You made them slower because you hesitated. Hesitate in the field, you get dead.”
Talon let the words settle. “We’re going to run this scenario in the daylight tomorrow morning.
” He looked at the team lead, Captain Oumarou.
“The team can practice at night on your own time. We run another nighttime training run the day after tomorrow. We’ll keep running it until you get it right.
Hydrate, rest, and be here ready to move at 0700 hours. ”
The SRF squad broke, with some heading for the water point and others toward the barracks. As the last of them drifted off, Talon turned toward his team. Jug, Hammer, Wolf, and Stryker were still standing in a loose cluster, watching him with too much quiet amusement.
Jug was the first to speak, his grin obvious even in the shadows. “You’re distracted. No one else would notice, but we do.”
“I’m fine,” Talon said flatly.
“Sure,” Jug said, clearly not buying it. “And I’m a nun.”
Hammer’s rumble of laughter rolled through the air. “He’s not wrong, boss. You’ve been carrying that look since you got back from town this morning.”
Wolf tilted his head, dry as ever. “The Riley look?”
Talon’s eyes narrowed just slightly. “There’s no ‘Riley look.’”
Stryker, leaning casually against the rail, raised a brow. “Sure, there is. Just like Jug has the Shelly look. You know the look he gets when his phone buzzes, and we all pretend we can’t hear him saying mushy shit in the corner?”
Jug grinned wider. “They suck at it, just saying. But yeah, you’ve got a Riley look. Don’t let them nag you about it, though. Sooner or later, they’ll all get the privilege of having that look. Because, Skipper, it’s a privilege. ”
Talon shifted. “Think something is off with her … Maybe a problem at work. Guessing, she hasn’t exactly said that.”
Hammer crossed his arms. “Skipper, if she’s in trouble—”
“She hasn’t said a word,” Talon repeated.
“See, that’s when you should worry,” Wolf said, his voice rising. “Women like her don’t bring you a problem until they’re already waist-deep in it.”
“And you would know this, how?” Stryker asked.
“Not like I’ve never had a serious relationship.” Wolf rubbed the back of his neck. “Didn’t work out, and it was my fault, not hers. I didn’t pay her the attention she deserved, and I lost her.”
“Skipper, HQ wants you and Jug on the comms when you get to a secure location,” Dude said when there was a pause.
Talon acknowledged the instructions, but Jug didn’t let it go.
He waited until the official conversation was over before continuing, “Wolf’s not wrong, Skipper.
Which I can’t believe I just said.” Wolf threw him the bird, and the team laughed.
Jug’s grin faded just enough to be serious.
“You saw what happened with Ronan and Fleur. Big problems can happen real fast. We know the two of you will figure it out. Just don’t wait for the problem to find you first.”
Talon glanced toward the dark beyond the floodlights, where the desert stretched away into silence. “She’ll talk when she’s ready.”
“God, isn’t that the truth?” Hammer said. “We’re here if you need us. Now, I’m going to bunk out. Someone scheduled another run at zero dark thirty.”
“Ha! You turning into a pansy ass?” Wolf asked as they started to funnel out of the training area.
“Pansy ass?” Hammer pushed Wolf, and laughter broke out.
Talon walked with Jug as the three men in front of them let off some steam.
Yeah, he had a Riley look, and he was concerned about what his gut was telling him.
There was something she wanted to share.
Obviously, she wasn’t ready. But as he walked toward the barracks, he wasn’t sure if he would push her either.
Damn it … he needed to be sure there wasn’t an issue he could fix. His inner caveman thumped his chest and grunted in agreement. Talon shook his head and followed his team. Damn if that fucking caveman didn’t sound like Grandpa Frank.