Chapter 34 #2
Elliot stopped in the doorway and watched him.
This man was his. Had been, in some form, for six years. Through Selection, a wedding, a funeral and a helicopter going down. They’d wanted the same things, fought the same fights and spent an extraordinary amount of time pretending otherwise.
And now, they were done.
“No news,” Okafor said, appearing at his shoulder. “But Ferris has a team moving toward the northern ridge. There were signs of recent activity. A fire, possible from last night. Could be nothing.”
“Could be Reed,” Elliot said.
“Could be Reed,” Okafor agreed.
Elliot held onto that.
He crossed the room and stood next to Hudson, listening to him control the room. Judging by his headset, he had gotten himself reinstated overnight.
They worked on their own mission, falling into it without much discussion. The same way they did at the very first navigation exercise in the Rockies when they’d finished early and Chen had looked at them like he suspected cheating.
Hudson called positions, Elliot cross-referenced against the latest aerial imagery. They moved through the morning’s operational priorities with efficiency, clearly still knowing how to work together even after six years.
“Eastern checkpoint needs a resupply run before 1400,” Hudson said, not looking up from the map.
“Jones can take it. He’s got nothing until the afternoon ration.”
“Thought Jones was on perimeter?”
“Garcia swapped him out at 0600.”
Hudson glanced up. “You know everyone’s schedule, huh?”
“Yes. That’s my job.” Elliot’s shoulder was tense. Everything about him was tense.
Hudson lowered his voice. “That’s very tactical and sexy of you.”
Elliot shot him a deadpan look.
“I’m just saying.” He turned back to the map, but his mouth curved. It was obvious he was trying to distract Elliot from his thoughts for a second. Give him a little air to breathe. “Very attractive quality in a boyfriend.”
Elliot didn’t dignify that with a response. Hudson didn't have to know how his stomach flipped at those words.
They worked for another twenty minutes, the ordinary machinery of the mission continuing regardless. Nobody mentioned Reed and his team. But nobody quite met his eyes either.
Okafor pulled him aside. “I need you on a run to the eastern checkpoint,” he said. “Local asset, French-speaking, won’t talk to anyone. Intel can’t wait.” He held Elliot’s gaze. “I wouldn’t send you out right now if I had anyone else.”
“I know.” Elliot didn’t hesitate. “When do we leave?”
“Twenty minutes. Sergeant Miller and Corporal Marsh are your escorts.”
Elliot nodded and went to find Hudson.
He was still at the grid, making notes in the margin of a brief with a focused expression on his face. He glanced up when Elliot approached.
“I’ve got a run,” Elliot said. “Eastern checkpoint. Hour and a half, maybe two.”
“Okay,” Hudson said simply, because this was their job and they both knew it. “Hang on. I’ll walk you out.”
The sun was blazing hot outside. Elliot pulled him to the other side of the container to find some shade. A few personnel walked by and Elliot nodded in greeting. When they were alone, he kissed Hudson.
A small gasp escaped Hudson’s lips. When Elliot pulled away, he was met by wide eyes.
“You kissed me.”
“Yes.”
“Here. In the middle of—” he gestured a hand around.
“Yes.” Elliot leaned in and kissed him again. This time Hudson’s hand came up to the back of Elliot’s neck and held him there for a second.
When they broke apart Hudson was smiling. “When we get home, I’m taking you out on a proper date. Somewhere with actual food and zero sand.” He straightened Elliot’s collar, a gesture so ordinary it did something strange behind Elliot’s ribs. “When all of this is over and everyone is safe.”
The corner of Elliot’s mouth pulled up. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Yeah.” He backed away slowly. “You’ll see. I’m a pretty decent boyfriend.”
The vehicle was a standard military Humvee. Miller drove, Marsh was in the passenger seat, and Elliot sat in the back, the asset brief open on his knees. The landscape moved past the window—scrub, sand and the occasional structure catching the morning light.
News about Reed would come through soon. He knew it. Okafor had promised to let him know as soon as it did.
He rested his hand on his chest pocket. His mind drifted to Hudson’s date invitation.
Out in the open. As a couple. It had sounded so certain, like it was just a matter of timing.
Then he thought about Okafor’s photograph on the shelf in his office—Sam looking at him instead of the camera.
It had seemed so impossible to Elliot once, that kind of ordinary.
It didn’t seem impossible anymore.
The road curved up ahead.
Elliot smiled. He looked out the window at the flat landscape and thought—for the first time in as long as he could remember—that he had something worth coming back to.
The blast came out of nowhere.
A white wall of sound and force, the vehicle lifting, the world tilting sideways, glass. The brief torn from his hands. Something hit him hard on the right side of his head and the landscape came apart into pieces.
And then there was nothing.