Once breakfast is over, Cara kisses me goodbye and heads into our bedroom to get ready for work. I begrudgingly make my way to base, showing my ID at the gate and waiting for the go-ahead. The drive toward my team compound takes longer than expected since I’m obeying all the traffic laws. I’m on edge and waiting for something to jump out at me or a stray bullet to hit my car. It’s a stupid thought to consider, given this isn’t my first time back on base since everything went down, but something isn’t sitting right, and I can’t put my finger on it.
When I get inside the compound, it’s quiet, other than the clicking noise from someone typing and the hum of computers. The halls are empty, almost as if everyone is in a meeting. I make my way to my team room and pause before punching in my code to open the door. Is it the same? Or have they changed it? There isn’t a doubt in my mind that they’re monitoring it. I push the buttons, a combination of dates that mean something to me.
The lights are off when I step inside. Once I flip the switch, I know why. I jump at the sound of voices yelling, “Surprise!”
“Holy fuck,” I say, with my hand over my heart. “What the fuck are you guys doing?”
My spotter, Carl Poole, aka Texas, comes forward and hugs me. “Man, I fucking missed the shit out of you.” After Ryley’s accident, I decided to take my leave. I told Texas he needed to stay away and keep his wits about himself because some shit was going down, and I didn’t want him caught in the crossfire. In fact, I told my whole team to stay away from me, just in case.
“How’s it going?”
“Shit’s good,” he says. Tex steps aside, and I greet the other members of my team. Rask steps forward, and I look at him suspiciously. He gives me a hug and whispers, “New assignment.”
All right, Command. We see you.
We part, and I pretend like I haven’t seen him in months, not days. “Last I heard, you were slumming it with the enlisted. What happened?”
Rask shrugs. “McCoy kicked my ass on the training course, so I had to prove I still got it. Picked up this assignment.”
I pat him on the shoulder. “Happy to have you.” Happy is an understatement. He’s literally the only person here I trust. I trust Tex, but it’s hard to know what lines they’ve been fed when you haven't seen someone in almost a year.
Aside from Rask and Tex, my former and now teammates again come up and greet me. Mark “the Commissioner” Stern, Scott “Harv” Harvey, George “Faith” Shaffer, and Brian “Rooney” Rourke. When it came to handing out nicknames, some of these guys ended up with the bad hand except for Mark and George. According to Mark, he got his nickname from the former NBA commissioner David Stern—they’re not related. And George, well, he’s a George Michael fan and our preacher man, so Faith fits him. Carl got his name Texas because that’s where he's from, and Justin’s name is his last name. Not sure why he didn’t get stuck with something else, but he’s like me. I prefer my last name. One time, Tex tried to stick me with ‘snake’ because of my stealthy maneuvers, and I balked. It’s not me. Archer or Nate work just fine. Besides, the only time we really use nicknames is when we’re out in the field or on a mission, and we want to remain anonymous.
I head to my locker and stare at the combination lock on it. For the life of me, I don’t remember the numbers needed to get into it. “Shit,” I mutter. Everyone around me laughs. “Yep, real funny, guys.”
“Here, let me.” George steps in front of me with some bolt cutters and instantly takes care of the lock. Now, I have to go to the store to buy a new one. Lovely. It’s terrible when one problem creates another.
“What’s on the agenda for today?” I ask as I store my bag in my shed.
“Well, we figured you haven’t done any exercising since you’ve been gone, so we’re going to head out for a soft run,” Mark says.
Oh boy.
“Or, we can start with a swim,” Scott offers.
“And I get to choose?” I ask them. Everyone nods except Rask. I glance at him, and he shrugs.
“I don’t care what we do. I need to get into shape, so I can kick McCoy’s ass later.”
“All right, then. Swim first, run later.”
There are a couple of groans, but that’s to be expected. I think most of the guys wanted to do one or the other, not both. I’m sure when we get back, we’ll have some practice simulations to run through. It’s not like we sit around and count ammo all day long.