Chapter 29
CHAPTER 29
The SCIF buzzed with a restless energy, a low murmur of conversation and the occasional scrape of boots against the floor.
The secure area with its military gray walls seemed to close in under the harsh lights that hummed overhead, their mechanical drone mingling with the rhythmic whir of the fan on the desk.
Motes of dust floated lazily in the light, unnoticed by the Team, all of whom were focused on the tac board at the front—a chaotic display of maps pinned at odd angles, strings crisscrossing between locations, notes scribbled in jagged handwriting on scraps of paper.
Commander Cussler loomed beside it, his broad shoulders hunched as he tapped a pen against his palm. His expression was grim as he glanced at the door. It creaked as it opened and the team turned almost in unison to see Logan enter.
“It’s kind of you to join us, Master Chief,” Cussler grumbled.
Eddie leaned back in his chair, his sharp features softening with curiosity. Tank, ever the quiet observer, folded his arms over his chest, his brow furrowing as if sizing Logan up.
Brick, seated at the center of the room, didn’t bother to mask his reaction. His frown deepened, lines carving into his face as he studied Logan with a mix of concern and irritation. “You okay?” he asked with enough weight to quiet some of the murmurs in the room.
“Yeah, I’m good,” Logan said almost too quickly. The words were clipped and defensive, which he immediately regretted. He straightened and strode to the front of the room. “Let’s get on with this,” he added brusquely, brushing past Eddie’s curious gaze and Tank’s silent scrutiny. “We’ve wasted enough time this morning already.”
For half a second, something flickered across his face—hesitation? Frustration? Guilt? It was hard to tell. Then it was gone, replaced by a sharpness that cut through the air like a blade.
His gaze swept over the room, and as he moved to take a seat at the head of the table, guilt clawed its way up from somewhere deep inside him.
He was supposed to protect Ethan—not hurt him. He’d lashed out and now here they were. The fallout hung like an unspoken barrier neither was willing to cross.
Ethan sat next to Brick, his head bowed as if trying to make himself smaller. The gum he was chewing moved rapidly between his teeth, his jaw tight with tension. He didn’t even glance in Logan’s direction, but the hurt radiated off him like heat waves rising from asphalt on a summer day—silent but palpable.
Brick leaned closer, lowering his voice so only Ethan could hear. “You know if you need to talk, I’m always here.”
Ethan hesitated before offering a tight smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m fine—honestly,” he replied, before he added, “Thanks though… It’s good to know someone’s got my six.”
For a brief moment, his eyes flicked to Logan. The glance was fleeting but laden with anger and disappointment… and maybe even a little sadness. It was gone in a second, and Ethan sighed quietly as he sank back into his seat.
Brick was oblivious to the silent exchange, or perhaps he chose not to comment as he grinned and nudged Ethan lightly with his elbow. “Hey,” he said in a conspiratorial tone, “that guy from the club—Devon? The one who took you home… turns out he’s an ex-Team guy.” He paused before adding, “We got talkin’ after you left, and I invited him out for beers when we’re back from this op. You in?”
Ethan blinked before breaking into a slow smile—a genuine one this time. One that lit up his face and made him look younger somehow. “You mean Logan’s friend Devon?” he asked innocently enough, though there was a glint of mischief in his expression as his eyes darted briefly toward Logan once more. “Yeah…” he returned his gaze to Brick, “He’s cool. I’m up for it.”
“Good man,” Brick chuckled at Ethan’s sudden burst of enthusiasm and nodded approvingly. “I’ll ask Logan and get Tank and Eddie along too. We can make a proper night of it.”
Ethan leaned back and faced Cussler who dimmed the lights ready to start.
The display flickered and images began flashing onto the screen: satellite photos… mission objectives… tactical overlays…
Ethan, lost in thought, barely paid attention. A spark of defiance flickered behind his otherwise soft eyes as he smiled, making a mental note of how much fun drinks could be…