September 6th, 2024
Damn, he was fast.
Zander didn’t stand a chance against Leighton on the mat, and it looked like even Shay was impressed.
Three pairs battled it out on the mat at the same time, with Shay signaling a short sound on his whistle when the recruits had to abruptly seek out a new opponent to fight. The goal was to cause disorganization and chaos, in which our recruits had to get comfortable with their shit sandwich.
Halfway through practice, Danny and Reese entered the dojo, and they came up next to me.
“You’re spending an awful lot of time at Hillcroft for having retired, my man,” I noted.
Reese scratched his eyebrow with his middle finger, and I laughed.
“Just when he thought he was out…” Danny trailed off with a smirk.
I clapped Reese on the shoulder. “We pulled you back in good and proper, huh?”
“You can fucking dream,” he said. “I’m just here to watch my boy.” He nodded toward Shay. “How’s it going?”
“Please give me good news,” Danny added.
Had he received bad news, then? “Miguel is understandably good. Leighton has cranked it up a fuck-ton. He’s incredibly fast. Gabriella’s good too. Tanner’s got plenty of potential, but he’s still prioritizing being a fucking clown, and Zander and Maxine are decent. The rest will get their next turn soon if you’re sticking around to watch.”
“Afraid I don’t have time,” Danny replied. “Coach and I are sitting down with Hernandez. He wants to drop out.”
Jesus Christ. “For what fucking reason?” What the hell was it with this year’s recruits?
Danny shook his head. “He takes issue with the fact that we have so much training that revolves around violence and not a single class about diplomacy.”
Excuse me?
Reese and I exchanged a look before we both turned to Danny.
“What the fuck does he think operators do here?” Reese asked.
“That,” I agreed. “Shit, when they send us in, diplomacy has already failed.”
Except, we did work with de-escalation. A whole fucking lot, I wanted to say. Problem was, we were often the client’s last resort, when all other options had crashed and burned.
“You’re preaching to the choir.” Danny looked out over the recruits. “I talked to Doc about Watts. I like that kid. He might actually make it.”
I looked over at Leighton too, just as he flew around Zander and grabbed him by the neck, then simulated a swift open-palm strike to his temple.
Shay blew the whistle, a longer signal that ended the sparring, and Leighton collapsed onto the mat, panting like a madman.
His beater clung to his body, soaked in sweat, and his chest heaved rapidly. His sweats were drawn up past his calves, revealing some scratches from his previous fight with Gabriella.
Leighton and Tanner were two of the few recruits who’d wholeheartedly accepted our doctrine to blend in. They worked out frequently, at least twice a day, but never with heavy weights. Riggs had warned the recruits during the deprogramming that body building was unsustainable. Not only did a jacked-up dude stand out in a crowd, he was often clumsy, and he required thousands of calories to maintain his physique. But that didn’t stop most of the other guys from putting on more muscle.
Zander was one of them. He was nowhere near as fast as Leighton and Tanner.
We obviously had operators who were larger by their nature. Emerson was what, six-four or six-five? I wasn’t short at six-three either, and I carried around some bulk. But it also showed I liked pizza…
Leighton was all…toned and…sleek muscles, abs, and…abs.
I swallowed and?—
I’m not bi.
Fuck you, Kat.
“You know who Watts reminds me of?” Reese mused. “A young Quinn.”
Danny huffed a laugh. “No fucking joke—I had that exact same thought the other day when he bitched out Jensen and Travers for talking too much.”
A young Quinn… I tilted my head. Reese had obviously referred to Darius—but the man was an acquired taste. My brother had liked him. I hadn’t spent enough time with him to get a proper impression, and it was best not to go by the first one.
Quinn.
Reese chuckled. “Kinda looks like him too.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Yeah, maybe.” Danny smiled.
Hm.
Quinn, Quinn, Quinn…
“Round two!” Shay hollered.
I tilted my head toward Danny and spoke for only him to hear. And Reese, I supposed. “Isn’t Darius from Washington?”
Danny inclined his head, eyes on the recruits as they got ready with new sparring partners. “Yeah. Some podunk little town north of Seattle.”
Well, that was interesting, wasn’t it? Didn’t Leighton tell me his dad was from there? A big family of Quinns?
And Jake Quinn had left behind a business card with the Hillcroft logo… What were the odds of—actually, wait. I had to do the math here. Leighton was twenty-four. So, that would mean Jake had been here, for whatever reason, roughly twenty-five years ago. At which point—had Darius been here…well, yes. Of course he had.
There was Ryan too. Darius’s brother. A sniper with the Marines. Ryan had come in as a freelancer to help out countless times over the years.
“All right, I gotta get back upstairs,” Danny said. “If I don’t see you at lunch, have a good weekend, fellas.”
“You too, man,” I replied absently.
Reese and I stayed put and watched the sparring, and it wasn’t unlike the battle going on inside my head. I mean, now that the seed was planted, I couldn’t help but wonder about the possibility of Leighton’s family being much closer than he could’ve anticipated. Because he was under the impression that Jake had wanted to work here but eventually opted out for whatever reason. And it was a plausible theory. Six years ago, it’d seemed perfectly logical that Jake had come here, then ended up talking to my brother, who’d sent Jake to the Army instead. Considering my name had been on the business card. Only, my name had been my father’s name first.
Actually, two things could be true at once. But now I was wondering if Jake had come to Hillcroft because his brothers, at least Darius, had worked here. Or cousin, maybe? Who knew.
“Without stepping on any Quinn toes—and I know how private Darius is…” I cleared my throat. “Do you happen to know how many brothers he has?”
Reese furrowed his brow. “Uh…I’m not sure. A few, at least. You know Ryan.”
I nodded once.
He scratched his jaw, then folded his arms over his chest. “If I were to venture a guess, three or four. Squeezy would know better, obviously.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Oh. Uh…” The furrow between his eyebrows deepened, and he cleared his throat. “She works in Intel, but she does it remotely. She’s worked with the Quinns. I thought you knew her.”
I did not. I’d never heard of her. But that wasn’t weird. Operators and Intel staff rarely ran in the same circles—and even less so if she worked from another location.
Oh, fuck it. There was a better way to find clues, because I knew Reese sat on answers. He and his brother were close with Darius and Ryan.
I turned to face Reese fully. “Is it possible Darius had a relative who died in Afghanistan some twenty-five years ago?”
Reese lifted his brows a fraction. “That’s a specific question.”
I nodded. “Let’s say a recruit came to me six years ago and asked about a Jacob Quinn. This particular Quinn had left behind a Hillcroft business card as one of the few leads about his history. Let’s also say that this recruit claimed Jacob Quinn was his dad—but he never got to meet him before Quinn was killed overseas.”
Reese faced me more too, and he looked like he was solving a math problem. “I’d say that recruit should head to Washington. Private or not, I’ll tell you right now—Darius and Ryan did have an older brother who was killed in Iraq or Afghanistan.”
Well, fuck.
I glanced over at Leighton again.
“Bo, is it someone here?” Reese asked.
I sighed and nodded toward Leighton.
I wasn’t gonna discuss this with the kid just yet; I wanted to dig some more first. But if this was true?—
“Wait.” Reese blocked my view by positioning himself in front of me. “Are you telling me recruit Watts might be Darius’s nephew?”
“If we’re putting emphasis on might , yeah,” I admitted. “It’s possible. I’ll talk to Em after the weekend. He should be able to confirm things for me. Then I’ll bring it up with Leighton.”
“Jesus.” He scrubbed a hand over his mouth. “Fuck confidentiality—I can confirm shit right now. Darius and Ryan have two sisters too. I can say that much.”
Fucking hell. I automatically took a step forward, and my pulse started drumming faster. “Do you know if one of them runs a pastry shop? There’s apparently a seafood restaurant involved somewhere too.”
Reese cursed under his breath and put his hands loosely on his hips. “Darius runs a fucking fish camp, buddy. And—” He snapped his fingers. “Yeah. One of the sisters—she made the dessert at Darius’s wedding a couple years ago. She was definitely a pro.”
A breath gusted out of me, and I looked at Leighton in the middle of his fight with Miguel, where Leighton was suddenly the underdog. But damn, he could still hold his own.
Logically, I knew I’d had no reason to connect the dots sooner; Quinn wasn’t the most unusual name, and I hadn’t reacted until I’d had Darius and Leighton mentioned in practically the same sentence. But fuck if it didn’t bother me.
Then again, it wasn’t like I’d sat on a big revelation that would lead Leighton to his family. He already knew who they were. Meanwhile, maybe this new information would convince him to reach out to the Quinns…? He suddenly had way more in common with both Darius and Ryan?—
“This is incredible,” Reese said. He returned to stand next to me, presumably so he could observe Leighton too. He chuckled. “So, that’s not a Watts you have on your hands here. It’s a fucking Quinn. And if he’s anything like his uncles… Oh, man. Good luck.”
Uh, yeah. Well, the kid wasn’t outgoing, boisterous, and reckless like Ryan. Darius, though. That quiet, calculating, old-soul, hermit motherfucker…
Doc would have a field day with this.
* * *