Chapter 2 Makeshift HQ, South America
MAKESHIFT HQ, SOUTH AMERICA
Kawan took off across the hangar with his heart pulsating in his throat.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Thor stepped out in front of Kawan.
“Ten minutes. That’s all I need.” Kawan glared at his team leader.
“To do, what, exactly?” Thor lowered his chin and arched a brow. “Because the last time I left the two of you alone in a room—”
Kawan didn’t need a history lesson. “She’s a bundle of nerves. We need to know why.”
Thor’s jaw flexed as he glanced over his shoulder. “She’s got a lot riding on this mission, and then we show up, blindsiding her. I’d be putting my fist through a wall if I were in her shoes.”
“I know how she operates, and something besides all that has her teetering on the edge. We’ve both seen her handle pressure before.
Watched her completely turn a mission around on a dime minutes before execution.
This isn’t about orders not coming in a timely manner or being vague.
It’s not even about using the AI. Something else has her standing on a cliff.
” Kawan inched to the left. “Trust me when I say we need to know what that is, or we won’t be able to assist her and this team. ”
Thor scratched the side of his face. “Can you keep this strictly professional?”
“I’m only concerned with why Lark’s vibrating off the wall,” Kawan said. “Because the last time she was like that, the mission literally went up in smoke, and two good men died.”
“That wasn’t Lark’s fault.”
“I know. I was there, too;” Kawan said. He remembered it like it was yesterday.
Everything had been running smoothly. No red flags.
He and his team were in place, waiting… watching…
and then out of nowhere, an enemy convoy flew over the dunes and bullets erupted from everywhere.
Lark hadn’t just carried the weight of two of her men dying.
It was the civilian casualties that had affected her the most. It haunted her for months.
Knowing her, it still did.“Something has her hackles up, and we need to know what that is.”
Thor stepped aside, waving his hand. “Just don’t piss her off.”
“That, I can’t guarantee.” Kawan strode off toward Lark.
She still moved like a storm disguised as a woman.
She didn’t walk—she prowled, coiled tension in every step. Her dark, shoulder-length hair was pulled back in a tight bun at the nape of her neck. Her olive skin had darkened a tad from the South American sun. And her green eyes glimmered with questions—as usual.
He hadn’t seen her in over two years, but the moment she stepped into the smaller backroom of the hangar, and that steel door clicked shut behind them, the air shifted.
Same stride. Same control. Same damn fire.
But he’d been right—something was way out of whack.
He’d seen her orchestrate missions under enemy fire with a level of calm that made other seasoned operatives look like rookies.
But now? Her posture was ten degrees too rigid.
Her jaw clenched in intervals. And those sharp, assessing eyes that once identified threats in three seconds flat were darting—tactically, but still darting.
She didn’t trust her environment. Or maybe she didn’t trust the plan. But with even those things, she could adjust her thinking. Adjust the plan. She’d worry. Every good team leader would. It was their job not only to plan and execute but also to protect their people.
But his team had shown up with little to no warning wouldn’t rattle her to the point everyone in the room could feel it. Though that bothered him on a different level—one he planned on discussing.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against her desk. “You’re supposed to be getting briefed.”
Kawan inched closer. “You’re twitchy,” he said, leaning a shoulder against the scarred metal filing cabinet. “That’s not like you. Not at this stage of a mission.”
“I’m responsible for a highly classified mission with a dozen moving parts.
If you were me, you’d be running on adrenaline too.
” She pushed from the desk, turned, shoved a map across the metal top, lifted a blueprint and set setting it aside, and rifled through a folder as if it had personally offended her.
“We all run on it,” Kawan said, watching her aimlessly assault a stack of papers and literally do nothing with them.
She barely glanced at each before setting them aside.
The woman he knew was focused. Razor-sharp clarity.
Outside of the tension ball, her movements were precise.
Everything she did before a mission had purpose.
Nothing was random. Everything about this was haphazard.
“But you’re burning through it like there’s a hole in your tank. ”
“Your similes suck,” she mumbled. “And I’m fine.”
“Right.” He let the sarcasm bubble. “You’re fine the way a grenade with a pulled pin is stable.”
That earned him a tilt of her head and a flicker of a smirk.
Then she shifted until she faced him. Those glacier-cut eyes, all sharp angles and unasked questions, were a scalpel to his chest. “Your team’s not a standard Evac unit.
Not unless you’re coming in after a mission’s blown up and you’re there to find…
” She glanced toward the ceiling. “Specs literally got the email about a team showing up to be more than just evac as you were rolling in. But of all the fucking teams they could send me… it had to be you?”
“Aw, sweetheart, and here I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
A pause. Then her lips curved into a grin—more in annoyance than amusement. “Still an arrogant bastard.”
“You always did like that about me.”
Lark turned, the stress ball from earlier now rolling between her palms. “Did you speak to Grady? Lorre? Or was the order I read from Thor all you got?” She drew her lips into a tight line.
“Orders came down directly from Grady. We don’t know anything about Lorre. What did Grady send you?”
She exhaled. “I didn’t get a chance to read the message.”
He arched a brow. “That’s not like you. You’re too detail orientented. And you often question everything, including direct orders.”
“Oh, trust me, I’m questioning this, but like I said, the orders didn’t come in until you showed up.
She pulled her phone from her pocket. “Specs sent it to me, and I took a look before you stormed my office. It doesn’t say much.
Just to utilize your skill set.” She stepped around the desk, firing up her laptop.
“We’ve had a few… unexpected changes to the plan, like the location of the meet shifted slightly, but that just happened within the last hour .
” She lifted her gaze. “When were your orders handed down?”
“We just finished a two-week deployment not far from here,” Kawan said. “Our orders came four hours ago. Report to the commanding officer and support the mission. We weren’t told anything about the mission or who was running it.”
She stood tall, planting one hand on her hip, while fiddling with the stress ball with the other.
“Lorre’s been up my ass about this mission for weeks.
You think I’m a bundle of nerves? You should see him.
I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised he’s concerned.
He acts like this will either make or break his career—only he’s retiring. ”
Kawan inched closer. “You saw our orders, so you know Lorre had nothing to do with them.” He curled his fingers around her wrist and glanced between the orange ball and her face. “You think Lorre asked Grady to send us? Why?”
“Either Lorre doesn’t trust I can get the job done and lose the AI, or Grady believes that.” She held his gaze without blinking.
Releasing her, he took a step back. He ran a hand over his unshaven face. A million things ran through his brain. None of them were good. Grady had chosen to send them. He’d waited four hours before telling Lark.
That hadn’t been a mistake, and it could only mean one of two things in Kawan’s eyes.
“I don’t know if I believe that.” He moved slowly toward the door, keeping his gaze between her eyes and that damn ball.
“What else could it be?”
“I’m not sure I want to tell you.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She raised her hand, squeezing the stress ball, taking aim. “You’re going to waltz in here, hint at something, and then slink out like a damn coward?”
“Hey, I learned it from you.” He tried for humor, even thought his chest tightened with the memory. “When you snuck out of my bed in the middle of the night and took off. No goodbye. No note. And you never returned a single text or message.”
“Oh, don’t you dare.” She cocked her arm and released the ball, narrowly missing his head by two inches.
He hadn’t moved a muscle because he knew she wouldn’t dare hit him with anything. Wasn’t her style. Verbal tongue lashings, however, were commonplace. And he enjoyed them way too much.
Kawan grinned. “Hit a nerve?”
“I’m not the needy one who tosses around the L word when we’re nothing to each other.” The corner of her eye twitched. “And this isn’t the time or place to discuss this. Hell, we’re never discussing this. We’re not a thing. We had a good time. That’s it.”
A long beat passed. The weight of everything said and unsaid stretched taut like a cable between them. The room buzzed with old tension—some of it professional, most of it not.
“I’ll drop the personal for another day, because we do need to focus on this mission, and everyting else is a distraction.”
Lark leaned over, snagged her damn stress ball, and worked it through her fingers. “Glad we’re on the same page with that one. Now, tell me what you’re thinking or next time I will hit you with this thing.”