Chapter 12 #2
“Blake said she was on a roof. Could we do some recon to see about a fire escape?” he pulled the map closer.
The area the vet clinic had been in was outside of the metro area, but still heavily populated.
Mostly commercial, with a few studio apartments.
Gabriel hadn’t spent enough time in the city, but he did know the architecture leaned toward brick row houses.
“It’s possible, but last we checked, the area was hot.” Irving was referring to the group he sent immediately following Alvarez’s team's return. They’d lost a good vehicle trying to get close.
“That’s a good sign. Means there’s something worth protecting.”
Irving hummed. “We’re down to two trucks and a car, if Thomas can get that one running.”
Neither of which helped them get to a roof. Blake thought it was at least a three-story building. Child’s play back when he had the might of the US Government funding him. But standing here in the lobby of the Potomac View Motel, it felt impossible.
Once again, he pushed aside the problem of how and got back to logistics.
“Where do we stand on diesel?”
The first spring storm hit in the middle of the night. It was wet enough that no one envied Judd and Phin as they went out to do some hunting or scavenging. Whichever they could successfully do. Phin looked thrilled when they left.
With the rain thrumming against the windows and the fire banked in the lobby, it was quite cozy. Gabriel felt the pull of a late afternoon nap and had to shake out his legs to keep from answering it.
Leaving the maps and other notes behind, he stepped into the canteen to snag a bite to eat.
Someone had left some boxes of snack cakes piled on the counter, and he perused them.
Pulling out some cinnamon thing, he unwrapped it and bit down.
While it was far from the most delicious thing he’d ever eaten, it wasn’t the worst. The cinnamon did a pretty good job of covering the taste of preservatives.
“Toss me one,” Blake called from one of the tables. He had several intimidating-looking textbooks open, a pen in one hand and a highlighter in another.
“What kind?” Gabriel asked, assessing the boxes.
Blake shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. The plastic wrap is probably more nutritious.”
He tossed Blake one of the cinnamon confections he was eating and watched as Blake took a big bite. He sighed. “But damn, they’re so good.”
“Calories don’t count in a war zone.”
Blake smirked; his lips dusted in cinnamon sugar. “Good to know.”
Gabriel was tempted to lick the sugar off his lips, but they weren’t alone.
Because Victoria was the most responsible of any of them, she’d taken to tutoring Sara in things that weren’t cooking, illicit drugs, or how to load a semi-automatic versus a revolver.
Phin had yet to allow her to actually shoot a weapon, but Gabriel suspected that was more to preserve ammo than because of her age.
The kid looked grim, hunched over a notebook, muddling through what looked like addition and subtraction. Several young adult books Gabriel recognized from Blake’s collection were sitting just outside of her reach. Judging by the way she looked at them, she would rather be reading them.
Victoria was guiding her through it. Gabriel couldn’t help but notice she was a lot gentler with Sara than Judd.
Blake licked the crumbs off his lips, and Gabriel was proud of the fact that he didn’t whine.
They’d been so busy with preparations that they hadn’t had much alone time.
If they weren’t running ragged, they were lying in bed thinking about it.
They’d managed a couple of handies and some quick kisses, but that had been two nights ago, and Gabriel was beginning to feel jittery.
Despite his raging blue balls, he couldn’t begrudge anything. The busyness had been good for everyone. The entire group had felt it, but none more than Blake. He was smiling again. Making snarky comments rather than just staring off into the distance, his fingers clenching and unclenching.
Blake was present again. And not in the self-flagellating way he had been, but in the way he’d been the first time they’d met. Wide-eyed and a little panicked, but holding it together in that beautifully clever way of his.
Don’t insult me, soldier boy.
Even now, bent over his books with that peeved look in his eye, he was more himself than he had been, and Gabriel was breathless with just how close he’d been to losing him.
Blake had become so important to him. And not just because of their circumstances.
He would have felt this way about Blake if they truly had met in a coffee shop and gone on real dates.
Even when he deployed to places unknown with a return date as changeable as a summer storm.
Gabriel would have made it work. He would have put in the effort he hadn’t bothered to put in with his parents.
Hell, he’d probably even introduce Blake to his family. Just to say he did. To check that box on the way to living the rest of their lives together. Maybe someday he might still get the chance.
Gabriel held onto that thought. Tucked it away like kindling to keep the fire burning.
Tommy stepped into the lobby, shaking out his wet hair. He was wearing a bulging poncho, arms tucked inside to keep whatever he was holding safe. Ducking out of the plastic, he let it drop to the floor with a wet plap before jogging over to Blake with what looked like rolls of paper.
Before he could decide if it was private or related to the business of killing aliens, he was interrupted by Judd and Phin’s bickering.
They’d followed Tommy in. Phin’s eyes narrowed in on the discarded poncho before flicking over to Tommy.
He picked it up and hung it on the back of a chair close enough to the fire to dry.
Judd snickered. “Oh, Daddy.”
“Is that what you want to do today? Die?”
With waggling eyebrows, Judd stepped out of Phin’s reach and approached them. His boots squeaked against the tile, immediately drawing Victoria’s ire. Gabriel almost groaned when he saw Judd make a beeline for the pilot.
“I got you something,” he said proudly, dropping a wet plastic bag on the table between books. Sara pushed herself up onto the chair so she could look into the bag. She wrinkled her nose when she saw cardboard boxes and not candy.
Victoria pulled out one of the boxes, her eyes narrowing. “Tampons?”
Every male in the canteen looked up with horror, subconsciously inching away from what might as well have been a box of grenades.
Once, Gabriel had the privilege of seeing a master bladesmith work. The knife he made was so fine, so light, so sharp that he didn’t realize he’d slit his thumb open until the hot blood dripped down his wrist.
Victoria’s face reminded him of that blade.
“How dare you!” she snapped, standing up so quickly her chair fell back. “Of all the pigheaded, misogynistic, asshole things to do—” she cut herself off, looking down at a wide-eyed Sara.
Tommy scuttled forward and grabbed the back of Sara’s chair, dragging her from the line of fire.
With the kid gone, she picked up a box and flung it at Judd. It hit him squarely in the chest. “Do you view me as so incompetent that I need your help? I have more than proven my worth—on and off missions—and I’ll be damned if I let some moron hick with a chip on his shoulder cut me down.”
Judd stared down at the box between his feet. The tension in the room was so thick Gabriel felt his hand twitch toward his sidearm.
When he looked up, Judd’s face was placid. “My intentions were never to embarrass you. I have sisters, and I remember how difficult their monthlies were and I—well. I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have presumed.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant Hollis. It won’t happen again.”
Judd’s boots didn’t squeak as he left the lobby.
The room was quiet. No one knew if the grenade was a dud or if it was waiting to go off in their faces. Victoria’s hands clenched on the table, lips pressed together so hard they disappeared.
Even after everyone had decided the best course of action was to ignore her, and Blake pretended not to see Sara steal another snack cake, Gabriel was watching Victoria.
This was his problem, right?
As Commander, Gabriel’s policy for interpersonal disagreements was to let them work it out and hope they both came out the other side in as few pieces as possible.
But he didn’t think that was going to happen here.
Judd had been sniffing at Victoria’s heels from the moment he saw her.
And honestly, Gabriel thought he would wear her down.
That she’d given in to his ham-fisted charm and they’d get something going. A friendship, if nothing else.
“Is he serious?” she asked the moment Gabriel entered her peripheral vision.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Where does he get off—”
“He just told you,” He cut her off with a sigh. “Judd’s a pretty straightforward guy.”
Victoria scoffed, peeling her fingers off the table so she could cross her arms. “Straightforward guy,” she mocked, lip curling in a sneer. “Of course you’d defend him.”
“I get it—”
“What would you get about being a woman in a male-dominated field?”
“Nothing,” Gabriel assured her. “But I know what it’s like to be gay in a special forces unit.”
She deflated a little, finally lifting her eyes to look at Gabriel. Understanding flashed in her eyes, but she didn’t apologize. He didn’t want her to.
“I don’t know what you’ve been through. But I know it wasn’t fair.
I know you had to work harder than any man.
Do better than any man, and most times it still wasn’t enough.
I know you probably volunteered for that suicide mission because, despite all the bullshit you’ve been through, you care.
You became a fighter pilot for a reason. ”
He leaned his hip against the table. “I’ve known Judd for a long time. He comes across as an idiot. The guy sticks his foot in his mouth so often it’s a wonder his tongue doesn’t have athlete’s foot. But he’s a good guy, and he does genuinely care. If he didn’t respect you, he would say that.”
“He calls me Danger Tits.”
Gabriel winced. “Yeah, that’s…I’m going to be honest, I think in his mind, that might be the highest level of compliment he can give. Doesn’t make it right. I should have stepped in sooner, but I didn’t want you to think I was coddling you. I’ll talk to him. Reassign him, if you want.”
Victoria shifted from foot to foot, chewing her lip. “No, I’ll…I’ll talk to him. I can handle my own business.”
He nodded and pushed off the table. “And Lieutenant? You’re part of Team Oh Shit, too. It’s not him over you, and it never will be.”
“Yeah, well,” the corner of her lips curled in the tiniest of smiles. “Someone has to carry the braincell.”
He clapped her on the shoulder and walked back to Blake’s table. When he got there, Blake reached out and grabbed his arm.
“Tommy has an idea.”