Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Thirty-six hours later…

“On a scale of one to not a fuckin’ chance, what are the odds these guys are actually gonna show?”

Beckett sat in his designated seat on the private jet owned by his boss and waited. The last time Tac-Ops had been slated to buddy up with another team, Beckett and the guys had been left high and dry right at go-time.

Not that it was the other team’s fault. They’d simply been following Uncle Sam’s orders.

Regardless of the reason, however, any major last-minute op changes—like the one they’d faced in Afghanistan—risked screwing the whole damn pooch. Luckily the mission to rescue Evie and the girls had gone off without a hitch, despite the unexpected change in plans.

Lucky for Evie and her students. And damn lucky for me.

“That hurts, Bones.” A teasing female voice sounded throughout the luxurious cabin from the jet’s state-of-the-art telecom system. “After all this time, I thought you trusted in the genius that is Shadow.”

Beckett grinned. “Oh, I trust you plenty, darlin’. It’s the random team we know squat diddly about that’s got my knickers in a twist.”

“Well, get ready to iron out those pesky wrinkles of yours because these guys are the real deal. And I’ve already been in contact with Mustang, and he and his team are at the airstrip, and they’re waiting for you to arrive.”

“Mustang?” He frowned. “Who the hell’s that?”

“Uh…the leader of the SEAL team you’re working this op with. They use nicknames in the field, just like you guys. There’s Mustang, Midas, Aleck, Pid, Jag, and Slate.” The woman paused a beat before asking, “Wait. You said you don’t know anything about them, but I personally sent each of you a detailed file on each of the six SEALs running assist on this one. Did you not get it?”

A purposeful silence stretched on for a handful of seconds before Beckett let her know, “Oh, I got it, and I read it. I just wanted to see if you’d take the bait, is all.”

“Always the comedian, aren’t you Bones?” Shadow’s lack of actual amusement was obvious. “But you know, one of these days, you’re going to need my help, and I just might not pick up the phone. Then what will you do?”

“Ah, come on, now, darlin’,” he crooned. “You shouldn’t even joke about a thing like that.”

“Hey, you started it.”

“Fair enough.” Beckett’s grin lifted into a full-blown smile. “My apologies.”

“Thank you. Now, let’s go over the plan one last time, shall we?” Her focus shifted as the tech genius got down to business. “In about twenty minutes, you’ll land at the private air strip our fearless leader’s friend was kind enough to let us use. Once there, both teams will drive to the launch site on the island’s northern beach where you guys and the SEALs will suit up and swim to the target’s location.”

“Quick question…” Apollo got the mysterious woman’s attention. “Hypothetically speaking…what would happen if I forgot to pack my wet suit?”

There was a stark pause and then, “Ethan Michael McAllister, please tell me you aren’t serious.”

“Whoa! Why you middle naming me?”

“Apollo, the entire premise of this mission’s success begins with your team swimming to the island one mile northwest of the one on which you’re about to land. And you just told me you forgot your freaking wet suit! That’s why I’m middle naming you.”

“Actually, I posed a hypothetical question. You assumed I was making an admission of guilt.”

Shadow waited a beat before asking, “Et, tu, Apollo?”

Beckett laughed along with Apollo and Falcon before doing his best to ease the sweet woman’s damaged ego.

“Look at it this way, Shadow.” He softened his tone. “You’re like our little sister, and as such, it’s our big brotherly duty to tease you every once in a while.”

“You really expect me to buy that line of cra?—”

She started to call him on his shit, but Shadow never got the chance thanks to Digger’s growled interruption.

“She’s not our sister, and this isn’t a fucking family reunion. So how ’bout you guys shut the hell up and let the woman do her job so that we can do ours.”

The cabin grew silent as Beckett and the others shared a collective what the hell look. The guy had never been the happy-go-lucky type, but this felt like something else. And unfortunately, Beckett couldn’t catch a bead on what that something was.

“Sorry about that, Shadow,” he offered sincerely. “Please…continue.”

“Thanks, Bones.” She cleared her throat and resumed their mission review. “As I was saying, after you swim to the target location, both teams will work together to eliminate the threat and ensure the safety of the hostage. And in case any of you need a refresher on him, too, the hostage’s name is Isak mar Rahal. He’s a billionaire software designer who happens to be the tenth richest man in the world, and he’s also one of our clients.”

“Exfil still on as planned?” Falcon double-checked with their resident genius.

“Affirmative,” Shadow confirmed. “Once the property has been secured, the other team will swim back to point A, get their chopper, and then fly back to pick you guys up. After that, you and Mr. Rahal will bring that bougie jet of yours back home. Any questions?”

“I have one.” Beckett decided to go for one more playful shot before the woman disconnected the call. Sitting up a bit straighter, he asked her, “You ever gonna tell us your real name, or do you plan on keepin’ us guessin’ forever?”

Digger’s intense gaze shot his way about a half-second before those of his other two teammates. They didn’t really talk about the fact that no one knew who Shadow was. It was like this unwritten rule or some shit.

But one of these days…

“Nice try, Bones.” Shadow sounded more amused than anything. “But it’s gonna take a whole lot more than some smooth-talkin’ cowboy to uncover my deepest, darkest secrets.”

“Yeah, Bones,” Falcon joined back in. “Besides, if she was going to tell anyone on the team her real name, it would be me.”

“You?” Beckett shot the man an incredulous stare. “Why the hell would she tell you over me?”

“Or me?” Apollo looked over at them both.

From beneath his breath, Digger released a few grumbled curses as he shook his head in obvious frustration. He opened his mouth, probably to chew their asses for starting shit again, but Shadow never gave the man a chance.

“You know, Falcon,” she spoke to their lead sniper directly. “I get that you and Apollo were just following Bones’ lead at the beginning of this cute little game of yours. But while I expect that kind of boyish and immature behavior from the likes of those two, hearing you join in is just…” A click of the woman’s tongue preceded a dramatic exhale. “Well. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed.”

The steady humming of the plane’s high-tech engines was the only sound filling the otherwise silent cabin. Two full seconds passed before Beckett lost the fight and started to laugh. Apollo and Falcon joined in almost immediately.

Digger refrained, as usual. But even though the big grump didn’t laugh, Beckett could’ve sworn the man’s lips twitched with a ghost of a smirk.

Maybe there’s hope for him yet.

“All kidding aside”—Shadow got back down to business—“you’ll be landing in like fifteen minutes. Does anyone have any real questions before your wheels touch ground, or are you good with the plan as it sits?”

Sitting up a little straighter, their team leader asked, “What about the pirates? Any change where they’re concerned?”

“Satellite feed is still showing a total of eighteen active heat signatures in and around the targeted location,” the woman who served as Tac-Ops’ overwatch shared. “Twelve are positioned around the perimeter of Rahal’s mansion…two tangos at each of the structure’s four main corners, two at the front door, and two in the rear. According to the blueprints, the others are inside the mansion near the home’s great room. As of right now, I’m not picking up anyone else on or around the entire island, so between the ten of you, it should be a quick in and out.”

Famous last words.

Apollo shot Beckett a quick glance before sliding his gaze across both Falcon and Digger. “This thing has to be an inside job. No way it’s anything else.”

“I agree.” Beckett nodded.

“Oh, yeah,” Falcon joined in. “I’d bet my next paycheck this shit was orchestrated by someone on the inside.”

“Or multiple someones,” Digger concurred with a rumble.

Shadow’s confident voice came through the intercom speaker once more. “Owens and I are both on the same page, as well. In fact, our insightful boss has already been in contact with his peeps at the DOJ, and from what I’ve been told, Rahal’s entire staff is being rounded up as we speak.”

“My money’s on either a solo job or a partnership,” Beckett added with a shrug.

“Afraid too many cooks would ruin the sauce?” Shadow, who was still very much listening, took a stab at his reasoning.

“Exactly,” Digger grumbled. “Either way, the timing’s too fucking perfect for it to be anything else.”

Continuing along the same subject line, Shadow further shared her thoughts on the matter.

“The synchronicity of the events is what convinced Owens in the first place. I mean, I get that being in the constant spotlight has to get old, and I’m sure people in Rahal’s same kind of massively elevated financial position probably get sick and tired of never having a moment of true peace and quiet. But this guy’s the tenth richest man in the world. A brilliant businessman, by all accounts. And y’all know I am totally against victim shaming, but seriously…what the heck was Rahal thinking?”

“You’re not wrong.” Apollo was quick to back her up. “The guy purposely put himself into a situation where he’s completely alone on four hundred thirty acres of rolling woodland and white, sandy beaches…in the middle of the fucking ocean, no less. And every single one of his sixty-eight-person staff became aware of the man’s vulnerability the second he announced their impromptu time off, giving any one of them the perfect opportunity to waltz right onto Rahal’s estate and squeeze every penny they can from the guy.”

“Some people think money makes you bulletproof.” Beckett shrugged. “The more they have, the more invincible they become.”

He and his teammates had seen the same sort of unaware, presumptuous entitlement far too many times to count.

“And in reality”—Falcon piggybacked off Beckett’s point—“every additional dollar they gain only makes them that much more of a target for greedy, heartless dickheads like the ones holding Rahal hostage.”

“Someone will talk.” Beckett circled the conversation back to their suspicions as to how the hell these guys pulled off such a big job so quickly. “People who work as closely together as they do…someone either knows who’s behind it, or they’ll be quick to suspect.”

“Well, let’s just hope these jerks haven’t taken things beyond using scare tactics to get what they want,” Shadow hoped aloud. “My equipment is as good as it gets. I should know; I’m the one who built it. But a heat signature only guarantees a pulse, you know? There’s no telling what kind of condition you’ll find Rahal in once he’s located. And one of the signatures I’m picking up inside the residence has been stationary since I first tapped in, which means?—”

“Bastards probably have Rahal secured,” Falcon presumed.

Not that they expected otherwise.

“The most important thing is the guy’s still alive when we get to him,” Beckett reminded everyone. “I’ll deal with whatever else needs done when our guy’s safe and the targets have been neutralized.”

As a Marine Raider, he’d been given the opportunity to study up on field medical procedures on the off chance the corpsman accompanying the mission got injured…or worse. Now he used that same training and experience to serve as the field medic for Tac-Ops.

“Copy that,” Shadow acknowledged from…wherever in the world the secretive woman called home.

Bucket list item added: Figure out Shadow’s true identity and meet her face-to-face.

“Okay, gentlemen.” She began wrapping things up. “It’s about that time, so I’m going to sign off for now. We’ll reconnect once you make it to the target’s location, but don’t worry. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

“Thanks, Shadow,” Falcon offered on behalf of the entire team.

“Good luck. We’ll talk again soon.”

The line went dead, and Beckett and the others immediately began preparing for their approach. With their seatbelts fastened and their focus shifted to the job, the team members grew silent as they mentally readied themselves for what they were about to face.

He understood fully the willingness to risk one’s life in order to save another’s. It was what he and his teammates did on a regular basis.

But for a person to be so infested with greed they’re driven to not only risk their own lives, but also hold a man hostage—doing God only knows what to the poor man while they’re at it—for the sole purpose of stealing whatever they could…

That was something Beckett would never understand.

What’s to understand? Some people are just flat-out dicks.

His inner thought nearly had him smiling as the wheels of the jet touched down. The sudden jolt sending all four men slightly forward in their seats, and as the jet slowed to a stop, the team stood and began gathering their gear.

Minutes later, they were walking across the pavement toward two matching SUVs. Blacked out and tinted to the max, the unmarked vehicles looked more like those of the US Secret Service than one of their boss’s wealthy friends.

The doors to one of the SUVs opened, and six tall, fit, and deadly looking men began pouring out. Like Beckett and his team, these guys were dressed in civilian clothes since their usual combat clothing was unnecessary for this particular op.

“Guess that’s them.” Beckett shifted the strap of his backpack as it hung from one of his shoulders. The straps of his MP5 kept the weapon secured loosely against his back.

Falcon smirked as he stepped up to Beckett’s left. “If not, I have a feeling this little meet-up is about to get really interesting.”

“You the SEALs from Hawaii?” Digger asked the men point-blank.

“Depends.” One of the guys on the other team gave a non-answer. “You Tac-Ops from North Carolina?”

Tall. Bearded. Dark hair and eyes.

The man appeared to be in his mid-thirties, and even beneath the night sky with him fully clothed all in black, it was clear he was fitter than most. But what impressed Beckett even more was the guy’s lip-curving response to Digger’s not-so-friendly greeting.

Any man—or woman, for that matter—who wasn’t afraid to go tit-for-tat with Dig couldn’t be all that bad. Right?

“Mustang,” the gruff-looking man introduced himself to Dig.

“Digger.

The two men shook hands.

“Ah, one of the two fellow frogmen on your team.” Mustang grinned. “And, unless I’m mistaken, you’re the one in charge of your team?”

“I am.” Digger nodded.

“Good. Now, I hear we have a billionaire to save.”

“That’s what we’ve been told.”

“Well, then…” Mustang gave Beckett and the others a cursory glance. “What do you say we get through the rest of the intros so we can get down to business.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“All right, well…like I said, I’m Mustang. And this tall bastard”—he playfully smacked his fist against the shoulder of the man to his left—“is Midas.”

Standing several inches above Mustang’s six-foot frame, the blond haired, blue-eyed SEAL gave them all a half-wave and a nod. In Beckett’s opinion, the guy looked more like he belonged on the big screen, rather than slumming it with the likes of them.

“That’s Pid,” Mustang continued with the next man on his team. “He’s our resident electronics expert.”

“And this surly bastard here is Slate.” Pid nudged the tall guy standing beside him.

“Surly bastard?” Beckett’s brows rose with his smile as he turned his attention to the leader of Tac-Ops. “Damn, Dig. Did we just find your long-lost brother?”

Digger’s dark stare intensified as he sent Beckett a look that screamed fuck off. So of course, being the immature asshole that he was, Beckett simply blew off the silent warning and landed a friendly slap against the man’s broad back.

“Nice to meet you.” He offered Mustang his hand.

“Likewise.” The other man acknowledged with a smirk. “You’re the medic, right?”

“Nah, I just play one on T.V.”

A small huff of a chuckle lifted Pid’s shoulders, and the man’s crooked nose appeared to curve with his smile.

Mustang continued, tilting his head toward the quiet man on his right, “This is Jag. Don’t let his quiet nature fool you. What he lacks in conversation the man more than makes up for in the field. And this is?—”

“Aleck.” The final SEAL didn’t bother shaking hands, but instead gave a lift of his smooth-shaven chin. “Guess he saved the best for last.”

A few of the other men on Aleck’s team rolled their eyes. A couple others released a round of deep snorts.

Beckett remained quiet with a slight tilt of his head as he tried narrowing down his thoughts on the young frogman. Then he realized the smartass seemed familiar because…

He reminds me of me.

“I’m Falcon.” Beckett’s teammate introduced himself before adding, “And this is Apollo.”

Mustang dipped his chin at them both. “Good to meet you, gentlemen. Now, no offense, but if it’s all the same to you, we’d love nothing more than to take care of these pirate assholes quickly so we can all get back home to our wives.”

“Couldn’t agree with you more.” Falcon nodded with a grin.

Apollo—the only other member of Tac-Ops who was married—remained quiet, but Beckett knew the hard-hitting former SEAL concurred. With a wife as sweet and talented as Nicki, it was easy to understand why.

Hell, he and Evie weren’t even engaged, and he was already itching like mad to see her again. See her. Kiss her. Touch her.

Make her mine.

“This is us,” Mustang spoke up again, motioning toward the SUV they’d previously exited. “You guys can follow in that one.” He pointed to the one parked behind it. “I’m assuming you’ve been briefed on the plan for our approach?”

“SCUBA gear’s right in here.” Apollo patted a hand against one of the bulky bags jostling against his side.

“Good.” Mustang reached for the driver’s door of his team’s appointed ride. “We can give you a brief rundown on how it’s gonna go once we get to the beach.”

With a grumbled “See you there”, Digger led Beckett and the others to their awaiting vehicle. Once their gear was stashed in the back cargo area, the team climbed inside and waited for the fun to begin.

Thirty minutes later, Beckett found himself swimming beneath the water’s surface, soaking in the peaceful serenity the ocean granted to all those who entered. His hooded wetsuit was like a second skin, the neoprene holding an insulated layer of water between his body and the suit’s black, thick material.

Hence the moniker “wetsuit” versus dry.

The tranquility of the Atlantic surrounded him on all sides as the gentle sway of his fins pushed him closer to the man he and his team were hired to save. Like those around him, Beckett held his dive light securely in his fist, the circular beams from both teams shining through the otherwise impenetrable abyss.

God, I love the water.

He loved everything about it. Being on it. Swimming through it. Diving deep to explore what he’d always considered to be the great unknown.

But tonight was different. This wasn’t a mission to explore, and Beckett and the others knew exactly what they were about to face. Even so, they had about twenty more minutes until they reached their target location, making it damn near impossible to keep from getting lost in his thoughts.

As he often was while diving with his team, he was reminded of a childhood spent swimming at the public pool. Those days were some of the best memories, and time had changed very little about the things he enjoyed the most.

Even now, while being swallowed by the monstrous, rolling sea in the dead of night, he felt a sort of peace only the water could bring. Like a dream he used to have over and over again as a child.

The recurrence of the scene always the same…

I’m in the water. I have the pool all to myself. I’m swimming underwater, and I never have to come up for air.

The memory spurred him into action, and Beckett reached a hand over to the man swimming close to his right. Because Digger was his permanent dive buddy during any dive-required op, it was Beckett’s responsibility to let the other man know anytime he needed to go up for air.

With his light in his left hand, he used his dominant fist to give Dig’s bicep a tap beneath the water. Almost immediately, the other man turned his focus to his partner. The two men made eye contact through the clear shield of their airtight masks.

Beckett pointed toward the surface, indicating his need to take a breath. With a nod, Digger began his ascent as he motioned to the others to do the same.

One by one, each member of both teams became alerted to the necessary change in their positions. Following their deeply engrained training, they kicked themselves closer to the surface, ensuring they remained present and accounted for by all.

As he approached the impending break in the water, Beckett slowly began rolling over onto his back. His mouth cleared the surface, and just as he and the others had a few times during their current swim, he immediately began sucking in as much air as his lungs would hold.

In a seamless move, he slipped back under the water. Beckett kicked his way deeper, not stopping until his dive watch indicated he’d reached the same depth as before.

The others resumed their previous positions, as well, and for the next several minutes, the two teams continued along the invisible path leading them directly to Isak Rahal’s freedom.

With his well-trained lungs holding steady and his legs moving at a rhythmic pace, Beckett’s mind did what it always seemed to do…

It wandered back to thoughts of Evie.

His pulse spiked as memories of the past few days—and nights—began seeping their way through. Perfect curves. Supple breasts. Her perfect, naked body writhing beneath his as he slid in and out of her welcoming heat.

But while making love to her was hands-down the greatest experience of his entire life, it wasn’t the promise of more mind-blowing sex making his legs kick a bit harder. It was his innate need to reconnect with Evie’s sweet, sweet soul.

He’d never met anyone like her before, and as he swam against the current, Beckett innately knew he never would again. Which was perfectly fine with him, because as far as he was concerned, his search for the elusive happily ever after had come to an unexpected end.

Evie was it for him. She was The One. And though they hadn’t said the words, Beckett knew what he felt was real.

It was also new, however. And though he wasn’t ashamed of his feelings in the least, Evie was still dealing with the emotional fallout from her father’s earthshattering revelation. Not to mention the aftermath of being kidnapped and held hostage by terrorists who would have had no qualms about executing her and those girls.

The very last thing he wanted was to scare the sweet woman away, so Beckett decided to keep his true feelings to himself. For now. But the second he felt she was ready for more?—

A fist nudged against Beckett’s shoulder, and he turned his head in Digger’s direction. Using familiar hand gestures to communicate, the other man let him know their mile swim was coming to an end.

Since the team’s exfil plan included a short chopper ride from Rahal’s private island back to their jet—as opposed to swimming back the same way from which they’d come—Beckett and his teammates quickly began shedding the gear they no longer required.

Fins, lights, and masks became offerings to the sea as the ocean’s rippling tide carried the evidence of their presence away. He hated to do it, but wasting perfectly good equipment was an unfortunate part of the job.

Private or active duty, it didn’t matter. The fact was, sometimes the need to cover their tracks trumped being frugal, and no amount of guilt would ever change that.

A few additional strokes later, Beckett felt his feet touch sand. Water poured from his body as he stood upright, and he used the opportunity to stretch his spine and give his leg muscles a break.

“Well, that was fun.” His tactical dive boots made mirrored impressions in the soaking wet sand.

The SCUBA footwear slipped right inside his fins, offering enough protection to Beckett’s soles to make maneuvering through certain terrains possible.

“Was it, though?” Aleck stood near the other five SEALs as they efficiently began stripping themselves of the equipment they had no choice but to stash. “Maybe it’s just me but swimming a mile in the freezing cold ocean…in the middle of the night, no less…isn’t exactly my idea of fun.”

Beckett chuckled as the other team began shoving their own fins and dive lights into backpacks they’d worn for that exact purpose. A necessary step since the group of SEALs would be returning to the other island via water once the mission was complete.

When their stuff was secured, each man then slid his bag beneath a dense group of lush green bushes waving in the breeze a few yards away. Once the op was over and the hostage was safe and secure, Mustang’s men would return to this exact same spot to retrieve their gear. They’d then swim back to the other island, get the chopper, and return for Beckett, his team, and Rahal.

Sounds easy enough.

Beckett watched and waited while the SEALS finished concealing their gear beneath the thick foliage. Having done that a time or two himself, he was suddenly damn glad his only concerns now were the MP5 slung across his back, the pistol strapped to his right thigh, and the MK 3 MOD 0 Combat/Diving Knife secured to his left ankle.

Don’t forget the seventeen assholes and the hostage.

“You know, I actually didn’t mind the swim.” He continued the current conversation by sharing his unsolicited opinion once again. “It calms me.”

“That’s only because you’re like a fucking fish when it comes to the water,” Apollo challenged almost immediately.

Beckett couldn’t even argue the man’s point.

“I don’t know what Aleck was bitchin’ about.” Pid grinned as he came over to where they stood. “I mean, we’re SEALS, for crying out loud. You ask me?—”

“Good thing no one asked you,” Slate grumbled the interruption from a few feet away.

Agreeing with the prickly man, Apollo chimed back in with, “Sorry, Aleck, but I’m with Slate on this one. I love the water as much as the next guy, but I’d much rather take the jet than have to slosh around an op in these damn things.”

Apollo waggled a foot as water dripped from his own dive boot to emphasize his point.

“Bitch all you want, brother,” Pid kept on. “At least you’re not tied down by Uncle Sam’s wallet.” He motioned toward Beckett’s state-of-the-art dive watch.

“No shit,” Midas agreed. “Sure would be nice if Command would authorize us to use civi gear in the field.”

Beckett shifted his rifle back around to his front, the weapon hanging securely from its wide, drenched strap. “Don’t get me wrong, active duty was definitely a helluva ride.” He referenced his own time as a military man. “But I can’t deny, there are definite perks to working on the other side.”

The conversation died down as the two groups finished their preparations. A moment later, both teams were ready to roll.

“Everyone commed up?” Dig asked, referring to the earbud communication system they’d gone with for this op.

“We’re good to go on our end,” Mustang announced after checking with his men. His dark beard made the government-trained killer look even more dangerous as they stood in the shadows of the night. “Since this guy’s your client, Command gave the green light for your team to run point. But as far as we’re concerned, for tonight, we’re all one team.”

“So what you’re saying is you’ve got our backs?”

Falcon’s question had Beckett and the rest of Tac-Ops watching Mustang closely as they waited for his response. The leader of the decorated group of SEALs turned his dark gaze in Falcon’s direction as he rumbled a low, “As much as you have ours.”

“Then we’re agreed,” Digger spoke up again. “Stick to the plan, and we all make it back home.”

As far as inspirational speeches went, Dig’s was a bit lackluster. But the fact that the man had even attempted to rally the troops made Beckett think there may still be hope for the surly bastard yet.

Maybe.

“Well, then…” Beckett shifted his hold on his MP5 while giving the other nine men a sweeping glance. “What do you gentlemen say we quit standin’ around and get our asses to work?”

Because the sooner they rescued Rahal, the sooner he’d be back with Evie.

He and the other nine highly trained men began to move up the beach. Damn. He’d been doing such a good job not thinking about her since reaching the shore. But now…

Now all I think about is the way her dimples deepen with her smile and the soft, silky feel of her hair against my palms. Or the way my body fit perfectly with hers as I pumped my greedy cock in and out of her hot, wet ? —

“Bones!” Digger’s deep voice pulled Beckett from his recent, erotic memories as the former SEAL walked beside him as they left the soft, open sand for the thick cover of trees. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Sorry, what?”

The other man’s dark eyes bore into his. “Thought you said you were ready.”

“I am ready,” he challenged back.

“Are you?”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Beckett frowned, confused by Dig’s concern.

“It means I need you focused and on-point. Christ, Bones. We talked about this shit that day at the range.” His team leader shook his head with frustration. “I thought you and Evie getting together would take care of the issue, but?—”

“I’m good, Dig.” Beckett fixed his gaze on the other man’s as they walked side-by-side. “Really. Just ready to kick some pirate ass so we can all get the hell back home.”

To say the other man was a hard man to read would be a massive understatement. Hell, most days, it was damn near impossible. But while it wasn’t clear whether Digger believed Beckett’s claim, the man didn’t continue pressing the issue.

“So that’s it.” Dig sounded more annoyed than pissed.

“What’s what?”

“I finally figured out what’s pulling you away this time.”

“There’s nothin’ pulling me awa?—”

“Bullshit,” Digger growled. “Your head’s filled with thoughts of getting back home to your woman, just like Falcon’s and Apollo’s were the first mission they took after getting with theirs.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Beckett smirked.

“It is if it becomes a distraction that gets your ass killed. Or mine, or any one of us out here standing by your side.”

“Look, I get what you’re saying, Dig. Really, I do. But just because I’m anxious to get back home doesn’t mean I’m not in this thing one hundred percent.”

“You’d better be.” He slid his dark gaze Beckett’s way. “I’d hate to have to kick your ass.”

Beckett threw his head back with a low, hushed laugh. “You could try, brother.” His lips curved into a sideways smirk. “You could try.”