Page 24 of Durango


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“What’s going on?” I ask as I sit in my desk chair.

“Welcome back,” Axel and Lightning say.

“Yes, welcome back. But more importantly, you walked in whistling, and now you’re smiling. This isn’t like you,” Piper says.

I lean back and cross my arms. “Can’t a guy just be happy to be alive and able to come to work? I’ve been through some shit lately.”

Axel steps past Piper and sits in the chair across from me. He shakes his head. “No, this is more than lucky-to-be-alive happy. I can’t say I’ve ever seen you glow like this.”

“I’m not fucking glowing.”

“Oh, you’re glowing,” Lightning says. “Even more than when I was covered in confetti glitter.”

I chuckle, remembering when Lightning opened the refrigerator and a gold glitter bomb went off. He looked like one of those guys in Times Square who dresses up for the tourists.

“Right there!” Piper points at me. “Did something happen with Willow?”

I guess I better not play poker. I try to suppress my smile, but it doesn’t work. Finally, I cave. “She agreed to go on a date. Friday.”

Piper claps her hands together. “That’s fantastic!”

Axel nods. “Congratulations. You’ve been wanting this for a long time. I’m happy things are turning in your favor.”

“That’s great news,” Lightning says.

“Where are you going to take her?” Piper asks. “Because that’s just a few days out, and it’s a little late to get reservations somewhere nice.”

My smile drops. She’s right. I hadn’t thought of that.

“You don’t need a fancy restaurant. Make the date more personal to you two,” Lightning says.

More personal? I’m not much of a dater and not full of crazy ideas like Lightning.

“I’ll think about it,” I say.

This is a first date. One you always remember. I need to make it something special.

“Durango.” Reed is standing in my door. “Please come to my office.”

Usually, if he calls us to his office, it means there is an assignment. But Reed told me he wanted to wait another week before sending me out.

I step into Reed’s office, and Moose is already sitting in one of the chairs.

“Have a seat,” he says.

I sit, and Reed stares at me.

“I said I wanted to wait a week before sending you out, but something has come up that requires your special skills.”

“Which ones?”

“Russian.”

“You need me to talk to someone?”

Reed shakes his head. “No, listen. It’s very important that everyone involved in this mission—outside of us here in this room and Agent Harding—not know that you can speak or understand it.”

Reed goes on to explain the assignment. It sounds simple enough. We are to extract a man who has information that is essential to the security of the United States.