A stroke of luck? Or divine intervention? Didn’t matter. No question. He belonged with Adam and the rest of the JTT. They needed him. Needed the reminder there were still good people on the planet. Still a reason to fight the fight. He might be willing to do anything for them, but they’d do anything for him too.
“Actually,” Grant said. “There is one thing you can help me with.” He crossed the room and plucked the sealed envelope off the top of his dresser. “Can you hang on to this for me?”
Davis entered and accepted the letter held out to him. “It’s addressed to Adam.”
“Yeah, if anything happens and I don’t make it back, do me a favor and give this to him, okay?” He tapped his finger against the packet. “It’s critically important. A matter of life and death, to be honest.”
The kid stood straighter under the weight of responsibility, and Jesus, he must’ve grown a foot taller in the last two months. “Then shouldn’t you give it to him now?”
“Nah, he has enough shit to worry about, and I don’t want to burden him if I don’t have to. Just hang on to it, and if I don’t return, give the envelope to Adam. He’ll know what to do with it.” He hitched his bag higher as serious hazel peepers searched the depths of his.
“Okay.” Accepting the parameters given, Davis shoved the envelope into the back pocket of his jeans. “But nothing’s going to happen, right? You’re going to find Rebecca, bring her home, and then I’ll give the letter back to you.”
Grant clapped him on the shoulder before pulling him in for a quick back-thumping hug. “That’s the plan, but don’t stress too much about it. Whatever happens, happens. We’ll deal with any fallout when we have to. Sound good?”
Davis nodded, and they separated. “You forgot your knife,” he said, pointing to the switchblade Grant normally carried in his pocket. Given to him by his grandfather, the knife was a family heirloom, the only thing he had left of his grandparents, and not something he’d risk losing on a mission.
“Here.” He scooped the closed blade and clipped it to the inside of Davis’s front pocket. “You keep it safe for me until I get back. Alright?”
Yeah, the one physical possession that meant anything to him, there wasn’t anyone he’d rather leave it to if worse came to worst and he didn’t return.
As the sun set below the mountains, Cody hefted the last crate of supplies into the sleek black helicopter for Zander to secure. Job done and departure imminent, he breathed deep, inhaling the cool spring air wafting across the open field.
Mother Nature conceding to the change of seasons, she’d given up her iron grip on winter, and the weather had warmed over the last few days. And sweet Jesus, it felt good to be on the move again. To come alive. Have a mission. A target. A reason for existence.
He hated being idle, and they’d been in hurry-up and wait mode for too damn long. Hiding in the lodge, healing from their wounds, and unraveling the mess they were in one fucking thread at a time felt like a slow death.
He needed action. Challenge. The adrenaline rush that could only be experienced by a black ops assaulter charging into a dangerous situation, gun first.
Sure, after uncovering the truth about Johnson, he’d been one of the walking wounded. With a ricochet embedded deep in his butt cheek, he’d needed some time to recover after the surgery to remove it. But that’d been months ago. Except for the occasional muscle twinge, the injury didn’t bother him anymore.
And now, thanks to his restlessness, he seemed to be in a perpetual state of—let’s roll, motherfuckers. Not exactly compatible with their current circumstances. They were outlaws. Enemies of the United States, according to the lies Johnson had spread about them.
Make a mistake and they’d be taking a permanent nap six feet under—or worse—caught and caged in an eight-foot cell housed in a federal prison, rotting away until the end of time. Fucking terrifying.
The inertia would make his skin itch to the point of scratching it off, and the boredom would drive him stark raving mad. Nope. Give him the choice, and he’d opt for going out in a blaze of glory any day of the week.
“About damn time, dumbass.”
Cody didn’t need to swivel his head to know who Gray had addressed, but he did it anyway and caught the tail end of the grin Grant aimed her way.
“Missing me already?”
“Hardly,” she huffed. Almost as tall as the six-foot-plus men around her, she left Chase to his preflight inspection and crossed the short distance to Grant and Davis in a few long strides. “Thought maybe you’d lost your nerve and needed a shove.”
“Don’t worry about me, sunshine. I’ve got all the nerve I need to party with this band of buttfucks.”
Her huff did little to hide her concern, but her grin matched his as she pulled the duffel from his shoulder. She tossed the bag through the air, and Cody caught it mid-flight, handing it up to Zander, who stood waiting on the deck.
With the gang all here and full dark descended, they were ready for a final round of see you later alligators before they took to the skies.
Adam and Eve reached them first. “All set?” he asked as Chase and Zander joined their group.
“Good to go,” Chase replied, slinging his arm around Gray’s shoulders and pulling her into his arms. “Stay here. Don’t bust your brother’s balls too hard. And remember to call Doctor Christina’s emergency number if you can’t reach me and you need to talk shit out. Okay?” He kissed her on the forehead.
“Whatever, idiot. Don’t get blown up, or crash into the side of a mountain, or get shot to shit, and I won’t need any additional head-shrinking from Nalini. Got it?”
“Got it.” He grabbed her cheeks and kissed her fast. “Trust me, baby, I’ll be fine. I’ll even bring you one of those snow globes you love so much.”
