2. Mirren

2

MIRREN

L ieutenant Mirren Reed had never believed that she would one day join the Air Force.

She grew up and lived a quiet life in Seattle, excelling in her studies all throughout her youth and developing a fascination with weather and the natural world from a young age. Her parents and her teachers believed it had to have been her calling, some divine purpose instilled into her from a higher power at birth. It eventually led her to pursue a degree in meteorology, where she studied hard, acquired internship after internship, dedicated hours to part-time and volunteer work, and later graduated with honours. She hadn’t yet decided where she wanted to end up when a special letter from the Air Force changed everything.

Her skills in weather prediction quickly made her an asset, and she was one of the strong reasons for the success of many of the missions upon which she’d worked. She’d moved up the ranks exceptionally fast for her young age, earning great respect from all of those who commanded her and worked alongside her. Mirren had quickly grown to love her military career. Over the years, the Air Force quickly became a second home to her.

She glanced up from her weather reports, her mind an aching whirlwind of calculations and predictions. Outside, the sun hung low in the darkening sky, casting long bronze shadows across the tapestry of mountains surrounding Fort Resolute. The relentless cold seemed to seep through the walls, a constant annoying reminder of where they were—on the edge of the world, it felt like.

Two days ago, Mirren had been on a temporary break following the success of a major mission, back home in Seattle having a delicious homemade dinner with her parents. Unexpectedly, she had gotten a call from her superiors, who shared with her that she had received a formal request from a Captain Sawyer Berkeley to use her weather knowledge to help aid training mission. It was last minute, but Mirren couldn’t help but accept. Someone had put in a formal request for her? How could she decline? And so, Mirren had found herself here, on the edge of the world.

In the day full of traveled that followed, Mirren had done a bit of research into this woman who’d specifically asked for her aid for the mission. She’d heard stories about the name before, some whispered with awe, others with the kind of respect reserved for those who’d seen too much and had survived to speak about it. The more she investigated it, the more she’d learned that the seasoned Army Ranger had a reputation that preceded her, one of discipline, unbreaking focus, and an intimidating competence. It was surreal that same Captain Berkeley had put in a special request for her , and only her.

The practical part of her brain reminded her that this was simply a mission, a task for which she was trained, but a deeper, more primal part of her couldn’t ignore the flicker of excitement. This was a chance to prove her value to someone she instinctively respected—and, if she was being honest with herself, someone she was deeply intrigued by.

She’d been here for almost two days now, working hard to provide the information for which she was sought out. She took a break from her work temporarily to have a brief dinner in the dining hall, and then washed away the exhaustion of the day with a quick shower before shortly returning to the control room to put in evening hours.

A sigh escaped her lips as her laptop lagged, introducing her to a temporary black screen into which she was forced to look at her reflection: dark hair pulled back into a tight braid, blue eyes sharp with focus, her expression as calm as always. But beneath that practiced composure, there was something else—an anticipation that tugged at the edges of her resolve. She frowned slightly, pushing those thoughts aside. This was a mission, nothing more. She couldn’t get ahead of herself here.

A couple of her peers walked to her side and began to inquire about the information she had already gathered, but barely minutes into their conversation, the thudding of boots sounded from behind the women, and the two men at her side paused their speech to look behind her.

Mirren’s heart skipped a beat as she turned to address the figure behind her, knowing it was none other than Sawyer herself even before she met the captain’s emerald eyes. Her breath caught slightly as the woman approached, the captain’s presence as strong as the icy winds whipping around them.

Sawyer looked up, their eyes locking for a brief moment. Mirren felt a jolt of something she couldn’t quite name—a strange blend of admiration and something deeper, something she knew she had no right to feel.

“Captain Berkeley,” Mirren straightened and greeted her with a smart salute.. She wanted to say more, wanted to express just how excited she was to be here, and how honoured she was to have been chosen, but instead kept her lips sealed, allowing Sawyer to have full navigation of the conversation.

“We’re scheduled to leave in fifteen minutes. I trust you’re ready?” the captain asked. When Mirren had confirmed, daring to add a little touch of humor, she added, “Good. Meet me outside when you’re ready.” Mirren hadn’t gotten the chance to utter another word before Sawyer had already turned on her heel and disappeared out of the control room, leaving Mirren feeling so winded with awe it was as if she’d been kicked hard in the gut.

Focus, Mirren, she told herself as she struggled to push away the feelings of admiration before she nearly sprang out of the room and prepared to get ready.

Five minutes later, Mirren climbed into the passenger seat of the Humvee, the heavy tires crunching over the frozen ground as they set off toward Icebreaker Station. The vehicle’s interior was cramped, the scent of leather and metal filling the air.

Mirren could feel the warmth of Sawyer’s body next to her despite the layers of clothing between them. The proximity was distracting, and she had to force herself to focus on the mission ahead, on the snow-covered landscape stretching out before them. She so badly wanted to break the silence, to pick Sawyer’s mind and find out everything about her. To learn more about who the woman was, where she came from, what some of her missions were like, if the rumors about her brutal efficiency were all true. Ultimately, however, she kept her mouth shut, only speaking when she was asked about any of the data she had already collected.

The terrain was unforgiving, a desolate expanse of white that seemed to go on forever. Snow drifts and jagged ice formations dotted the landscape, the harsh beauty of the Arctic both captivating and deadly. The vehicle jolted as it hit a patch of rough ground, and Mirren instinctively reached out to steady herself, her hand brushing against Sawyer’s arm. The contact was brief, but it sent a surge of warmth through her, a stark contrast to the cold seeping through the vehicle’s windows.

Almost hopeful, Mirren snuck a glance over at Sawyer, but it seemed the moment had gone unnoticed to the captain. That, or Sawyer had pretended it didn’t happen.

After a long ride mostly in silent, the vehicle came to a halt in front of the outpost, the two women grabbing their gear and heading inside. Mirren stayed close behind Sawyer, watching as the older woman made her way hastily inside and immediately began to check her surroundings, while she headed for the kitchen table in the center of the room and set her instruments up there. She cracked open her laptop and launched her programs, but she couldn’t focus on the screen, her icy blue eyes instead spectating Sawyer as she moved around the room, disguising herself by keeping her head low and close to her laptop.

Sawyer moved with such focus, such grace, that Mirren struggled not to sit back and admire her. She started with the stove, then the walls of the outpost, then checked the supplies, finally ending with the bunk beds. A fleeting thought crossed Mirren’s mind of her and Sawyer tucked under those sheets, and she had to physically shake her head to get rid of it.

“How many times have you been here?” Mirren perked up, partially out of curiosity and partially to help rid that thought from her mind completely. Even though Sawyer didn’t seem like the kind of person for small talk, she still responded, albeit shortly. In an effort to break the woman out of her shell more, Mirren added, “You must have been the obvious choice then for leading this mission, then. Your experience matched with your skillset makes you overly qualified.”

It must have worked too, even just a little bit, as Mirren watched Sawyer pause slightly before she answered. Mirren tucked her head back in her laptop screen just in time to hide a small smirk.

Around fifteen minutes later, Sawyer broke the silence. “Everything looks good on my end. How about you?”

Everything looks good … Mirren thought as she looked up at Sawyer, then immediately cleared her throat as she fixed her gaze back on her screen. “The weather is holding steady for now,” she replied, before a grim look flashed across her gaze. “But… It looks like t here’s a significant drop in pressure that suggests the storm is intensifying. We may have to be prepared for it to hit sooner rather than later.”

“How soon?”

“It’s… hard to say for certain,” Mirren continued, “but I’d estimate we have a few hours, maybe three at most, before it reaches full strength.”

“Shit. That doesn’t give us much time.” Sawyer looked around, and Mirren used the woman’s temporarily distraction to scan up and down her frame. Sawyer was tall, muscular, with a few faint scars decorating her collarbone and short brown hair framing a very attractive face.

Mirren looked back down at her data, which showed evidence of a severe oncoming storm. It was supposed to be nothing more than a short trip to the outpost, here and back, but now it seemed that it would be dangerous to try to head back to the base. “I think it might be best if we stay the night,” Mirren finally said. It was their best option, but she couldn’t help but think of the opportunity it would give her to possibly learn more about Sawyer.

Sawyer paused, but eventually voiced her agreement, prompting Mirren to continue. “I’ve already started gathering data on the storm’s trajectory. We should have enough information to make an informed decision by the time it arrives.”

“Good,” Sawyer replied. “Let’s get the stove going and make sure we’re stocked up on firewood. We’ll need to conserve our energy and stay warm.”

Mirren nodded in agreement, and together they set to work. The silence between them was companionable now, a shared understanding that didn’t require words. They worked efficiently, stocking the woodpile, checking the water supply, and setting up a makeshift command center on the table.

Mirren tried her best to remain focused, but Sawyer’s presence in the room was so thick it was borderline intoxicating, and it was hard to keep her eyes averted. No matter how much she tried to deny it, it wasn’t just admiration or respect that drew her to Sawyer, but something visceral and raw. Despite her considerably welcoming exterior, Mirren had never been one form attachments easily, having been more introverted throughout her entire life. She had never been one to form attachments easily— not that her life in the Air Force really allowed for it—but there was something about Sawyer that made her want to know more, to understand the woman behind the stoic exterior.

But now wasn’t the time to dwell on such thoughts. The storm was coming, and they needed to be ready.

Once the fire was going and the room had started to warm, Sawyer walked over to the table, placing her rucksack on the surface and fishing through it. The flickering light cast long shadows across the room, the only movement in the stillness. Mirren cracked her knuckles, her cold fingers finding temporary warmth in her palms, her eyes sneaking peeks to Sawyer across from her. The captain didn’t have much space on the table due to her instruments scattered about, so Mirren thought to move some of her belongings out of the way.

“Here, let me—” Mirren began, reaching out to drag some of her wires out of the way just as Sawyer went to do the same thing, their hands making contact. Everything around them suddenly crackled between them.

The wind howled around them outside, the cold biting into her skin, the warmth of the fire barely beginning to take over, but all Mirren could focus on was the warmth of Sawyer’s hand, the connection that had sparked between them in that brief touch. It was as if time had slowed, the storm and the mission fading into the background as something deeper, more primal, took over.

As Mirren lifted her eyes, she noticed that there was a vulnerability in Sawyer’s gaze, a crack in the armor she so carefully maintained, and it was enough to make Mirren’s breath catch in her throat. She parted her lips. She wanted to say something, anything at all, but her voice seemed to be suddenly lost.

But just as quickly as it had happened, the moment passed. Sawyer pulled her hand back, the sudden, comforting warmth on Mirren’s hand quickly taken away. The captain’s expression was unreadable as she resumed checking her gear. Mirren did the same, pulling some of her belongings back and putting away what she didn’t need, though her mind was still reeling from what had just occurred. She forced herself to focus, to push aside the thoughts that threatened to distract her, but it was easier said than done. The memory of that touch lingered, and the throbbing of her heart in her chest didn’t make it any easier.

For a while, neither of them spoke. Sawyer left the kitchen table to take a seat at the chair in front of the wood oven, palms stretched out to soak up the warmth. The crackling of the fire was the only sound amidst the tension between them. Not an uncomfortable tension, but it was there, so palpable Mirren could taste it.

Finally, it was Mirren who, after clearing her throat, daringly broke the silence. “You’re not what I expected, Captain,” she said softly, her voice thoughtful. Her heart pattered heavily in her chest as she anxiously awaited her response.

Sawyer glanced at her, one eyebrow raised. “What did you expect?”

Mirren’s lips curved into a small smile. “I’m not sure, exactly. I’ve heard about you, of course—everyone on base knows who you are. But meeting you in person…you’re different.”

Sawyer tilted her head slightly, and the intrigue written across her features evoked a feeling of excitement in Mirren. “Different how?”

Mirren looked at her, blue eyes sharp and discerning. “More human. More…aware. I’ve met a lot of people who are good at their jobs, but they often lose sight of the bigger picture. You don’t seem like someone who would make that mistake.”

Sawyer considered that for a moment, and Mirren internally lashed herself for her words, fearing that she may’ve overstepped a very obvious boundary. But Sawyer didn’t take it in any negative light. She simply didn’t know how to respond. She wasn’t used to being seen in that way—most people only saw the uniform, the rank, the responsibilities. She’d become accustomed to it, even embraced it, because it made her job easier. But Mirren’s words touched on something deeper, something she rarely let herself acknowledge.

“I do my best,” she said finally, her tone even. She had the urge to say more, but no words come to mind.

Mirren nodded, and then smiled again, this time wider and more sweet than amused. “It’s a rare quality. And it’s why I think we’ll get through this just fine.”

Sawyer gave a small, almost imperceptible nod in return. The wind outside howled louder, the first real sign that the storm was closing in. The walls of the outpost creaked under the pressure, but the building held firm. The storm was soon to come.

With everything secure, the pair settled in for the long wait. The wood-burning stove provided some warmth, but not enough for the women to peel out of their layers. The air was still cold, their breaths visible in the dim light. While Sawyer kept close to the oven, Mirren remained at the table, letting out a sigh as she watched the charts on her screen light up violently, proof of the worsening weather. For the last almost two hours now that they’d sat in silence, Mirren had been unable to focus. Her mind still raced from her and Sawyer’s interactions earlier.

She lifted her eyes and watched Sawyer moved to the stove, adding a couple of logs to the fire. The flickering light cast shadows across her face, highlighting the strong lines of her jaw, her cheekbones, the intensity of her emerald hues. Once again, Mirren found herself watching her, unable to look away as the captain worked. There was something mesmerizing about the way Sawyer moved, every action precise and purposeful, as if she was always in control, always one step ahead.

The minutes ticked by and the silence between them grew heavier, the unspoken tension almost palpable. Mirren could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her thoughts a chaotic swirl of emotions she couldn’t fully understand. She’d never been one to shy away from difficult situations, but this was different. This was personal in a way that nothing else ever had been, and it scared her.

Finally, Sawyer turned to face her, breaking the silence. “We’ll be here for a while. Might as well make ourselves comfortable.”

Mirren nodded, though she wasn’t sure how comfortable she could be in this situation. The tension between them was like a coiled spring ready to snap at any moment, and she wasn’t sure what would happen if it did.

Nevertheless, Mirren stood to her feet, letting out a light groan as she lifted her arms into the air and stretched them. She closed her eyes as she did so, missing Sawyer glancing in her direction as her layers lifted and revealed her toned stomach. Mirren walked over a few seconds later, lowing herself in the wooden chair directly across from her captain, their knees almost touching in the cramped space.

They made eye contact, and for a moment they just looked at each other, the air between them thick with unspoken words. Mirren’s pulse quickened, her breath catching in her throat as she waited for Sawyer to speak.

But when the captain finally did, her voice was calm, steady, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “You did well today, Lieutenant. Your assessment was spot on.”

Mirren blinked, surprised by the compliment. She hadn’t expected Sawyer to say anything like that, especially not in this situation. “Thank you, Captain,” she replied, her voice a little shakier than she’d intended.

Sawyer’s gaze softened slightly, and for a moment, Mirren thought she saw a hint of something more in those green eyes—something vulnerable, something that mirrored the turmoil she was feeling inside. But just as quickly it was gone, replaced by the calm, controlled demeanor she had come to expect from the captain.

They lapsed into silence again, the tension between them growing with each passing second. Mirren could feel it, a pull that seemed to draw her closer to Sawyer despite the voice in her head telling her to keep her distance. It was an attraction she couldn’t ignore, no matter how hard she tried, and it was growing stronger with every moment they spent together.

Finally, unable to stand the silence any longer, Mirren spoke. “This storm…it’s worse than I expected. We may be here for a while.”

Sawyer nodded, her expression serious. “It’s not ideal, but we’ll manage. I’ve faced worse.”

Mirren knew she was right, but it didn’t make the situation any easier to deal with. Being trapped in the outpost with Sawyer with no escape from the tension that hung between them was both exhilarating and terrifying.

She had always prided herself on her self-control, on her ability to remain calm and composed in any situation, but this…it was different. This was something she hadn’t prepared for, and it was throwing her off balance in a way she’d never before experienced. She didn’t know whether to be nervous or excited.

Sawyer seemed to sense her unease, and for a moment, the captain’s expression softened. “We’ll get through this, Mirren,” she said quietly. “You’re stronger than you think.”

The use of her first name sprouted a new feeling in her stomach that spread out and fluttered all across her body. The use of her name, the gentleness in Sawyer’s voice, it all sent heat to Mirren’s cheeks that she desperately tried to hide, though she knew she failed. It was a rare glimpse of the woman beneath the soldier, and it made her heart ache with something she couldn’t quite define, knowing that she had broken through a layer that many before her had no luck with. She wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap between them, but she knew she couldn’t. Not here, not now.

Instead, she nodded, trying to steady her breathing. “I know we will,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.