Chapter 56
The two men drove separately back to the base.
The road was bathed in the soft glow of early morning light, but Ethan barely registered as his fingers gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, his mind replaying events from last night—Logan’s laugh, and the way his hand lingered just a moment too long when they parted.
His lips curved into a smirk, remembering Logan’s expression when he stole his last piece of gum earlier.
Brick was the first to arrive, parking haphazardly and dragging himself through the dimly lit corridors into the briefing room.
By the time Ethan walked in, coffee was already brewing and Brick was slumped in a chair with his cap pulled low over his face, casting a shadow across his bloodshot eyes.
He clutched a battered plastic water bottle like it was some kind of lifeline, periodically taking small sips and grimacing as if it might actually cure whatever hell he’d put himself through.
“Finally, man,” he groaned as Ethan clapped him on the shoulder—a quick, firm pat that sent him wincing forward in his seat like an old man nursing a bad back.
“Rough night?” Ethan teased, his tone edged with curiosity. He moved through to the smaller side office where the coffee machine gurgled.
A collection of mismatched mugs sat in disarray on the counter, and his hand hovered for a moment before picking up the chipped black mug adorned with the faded gold anchor. It felt oddly intimate in his hands as he poured himself a coffee, the rich aroma curling into the air and filling the room.
Brick let out a loud groan, rubbing both temples with his fingertips as if trying to erase whatever ghost was haunting him. “Rough don’t even begin to cover it.” His leg bounced up and down in an erratic rhythm, punctuating his words. “I tried callin’ you—like a million times,” he admitted, his voice tight with frustration or maybe it was something else, it was hard to tell with the exhaustion weighing him down. “Where the hell were you?”
Ethan lifted an eyebrow and leaned against the counter as he took an experimental sip of the coffee and grimaced at how bitter it was. He’d never understood how Logan drank this stuff straight, no cream, no sugar, just pure caffeine.
“I was busy,” he said simply, his grin shifting into something knowing.
Brick squinted up at him from under the brim of his cap, suspicion flickering in his tired eyes. “Busy doin’ what?” he asked pointedly.
Ethan didn’t answer. He set his mug down and let his gaze wander across the room where he found Logan standing in front of a large map pinned to a board, discussing plans with Cussler as the rest of the team settled in behind them.
Logan stood tall, steady and commanding, despite what had been a long night for him, too. His shoulders squared beneath his fatigues as he pointed to red lines crisscrossing enemy territory. His hands gripped a new mug, a present from Jess, and steam curled into the air like smoke signals.
Something shifted, and as Logan’s gaze flickered up, it snagged on Ethan. As their eyes met, the rest of the room seemed to disappear and he hesitated mid-sentence—not enough for anyone else to notice, but enough for Ethan to see it.
His grip tightened on his mug before relaxing again. Something unspoken passed between them in that fleeting glance, a memory: laughter muffled by shadows, whispered words shared too close, hands that didn’t quite let go when they should have.
Ethan tilted his head slightly, raising one brow as if to say still thinking about last night? His smirk deepened when Logan blinked quickly and cleared his throat, turning back to the map with renewed focus.
“Hey man, watch out… you got spillage,” Brick rasped, gesturing to Logan’s mug, the coffee sloshing over the rim, splashing the table.
“Shit,” Logan muttered, shaking off the mishap with a sheepish grin as he wiped his hand on his camouflaged BDUs and continued.
Ethan couldn’t help but smirk, the moment evoking a vivid memory when he had spilled coffee all over himself, flustered and fumbling, sparking the start of everything else.
He took a long sip from his own coffee, the bitter edge now a comfort.
Something wasn’t right with Brick. The guy practically radiated unease. The restless bounce of his knee was growing almost violent as he stared blankly into space, like someone desperately trying not to remember something they couldn’t forget no matter how hard they tried. His hands shook around his water bottle, the tremor barely noticeable unless you were looking for it.
Ethan frowned as concern began creeping into his expression. “What’s eating you?” he finally asked, soft enough so only Brick could hear over Logan’s steady voice, which was filling the room.
Brick flinched but didn’t answer. He swallowed hard like whatever he needed to say had gotten stuck somewhere between his throat and his chest as flashes of Devon’s sly grin, uninvited and vivid, flickered behind his closed eyelids.
The memory was as sharp as broken glass: Devon leaning too close, his hat tipped low over his eyes, casting a shadow over his grin as he whispered in that smooth, honeyed tone that always hinted at trouble. “You were great last night,” Devon had said. The words carried a heat Brick couldn’t erase, no matter how hard he tried. It was as if there was something they both should have known and it gnawed at him, burrowing under his skin like a splinter he couldn’t reach.
Brick’s pulse spiked, hammering against his temples as guilt and uncertainty twisted in a chaotic churn in his stomach.
The knots tightened tighter and tighter until they were almost unbearable. Had something happened? Had he let something happen?
He swallowed, trying to shove it all down like it was some bitter pill he could force himself to digest. His hand trembled as he reached for the water bottle on the table, but the plastic crinkled under his grip, betraying his attempt at composure.
“Brick…” Logan’s voice cut through, calm but firm—a lifeline from the storm threatening to drag him under.
He blinked rapidly and shook his head as if trying to physically dislodge the thoughts clawing at him, then glanced sideways toward Logan. His eyes darted to the map spread across the worn wooden table between them. Red lines snaked across its surface like veins, converging on circles and Xs that marked their objective. The sight should’ve excited him; it usually did. But today everything felt different.
Logan’s eyes flicked away from Brick and back to Ethan on the other side of the table. That single glance spoke volumes, layers of meaning only they could decipher. It wasn’t just a look, it was a shared secret tucked safely beneath the weight of orders and responsibilities neither of them could escape.
A small smile tugged at Ethan’s lips, enough to reveal he’d caught that glance and understood it perfectly. He leaned back in his chair, one arm draped casually over it while the other rested on the edge of the table, his fingers absently tracing a heart in the coffee pooled around the mug Logan had pushed across the table.
As the briefing wound to an end, the team collected their phones from the secure lockers outside and dispersed down the corridor to get something to eat.
Ethan felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and ducking into an empty room, he pulled it out to see a message from Logan.
My place as soon as we get back. Jess rescheduled her visit.
Ethan’s thumb hovered over the screen before he typed back:
I’ll bring coffee. x
He pocketed his phone, unable to contain the smile spreading across his face, but as he turned to leave, he caught Brick watching him from the doorway, eyes narrowed with a mixture of suspicion and his own private torment.
As Ethan headed toward the exit, he thought about the odds they'd overcome to get this far, and the challenges still ahead. But if the military had taught him anything it was that the most important missions were never easy, but they were always worth it.
Who’d have thought his most important mission would begin with spilled coffee?
The End…