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C hase planted his boots on the cracked tarmac and squinted into the sun. Four short shadows extended across the ground from him and the others who’d traveled to the private airstrip with him.

Their reason for coming to the airstrip was twofold—they were seeing off Henner and May, who were headed to New Mexico to investigate the bomb site, , and Chase and Denver were ordered to meet the ambassador’s plane and act as security for her and her assistant.

Though the light breeze sweeping across the airstrip was warm, icy tension ran from one person to the next.

Henner was worried about keeping May safe. And after what happened to her a few short weeks before, Chase couldn’t blame him. He’d never seen Henner so absorbed in anything, and if his own gut wasn’t coiled with anxiety about the second plane they were here to meet, seeing how Henner and May acted together might have put a smile on his face.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the glance Denver and Henner exchanged. Not two seconds passed before Denver cleared his throat to speak.

“You doing all right, man?”

Chase folded his arms and tipped his head back to peer at the empty sky. Private airstrips weren’t that busy, but there wasn’t so much as a white jet stream cutting across the pale blue sky.

He didn’t answer Denver at first. He contemplated the question for a long moment, examining it from all angles so he could come up with the best answer to get his buddies off his back.

There was a lot to process. The reverberations he felt from Echo team going down in that chopper crash, losing almost every man on his damn team in one massive accident, wasn’t something Chase let himself feel very often. If ever.

He still had a job to do, after all. People to defend, a country to serve. He couldn’t dwell on the past if he needed to fix his sights on the future. But the number of dead men in that picture wasn’t something he could easily shake off.

Especially the one member of Echo who hadn’t perished that terrible day because he was on leave. Max Reece. He hadn’t died in the line of duty or even in the chopper that went down in a ball of flames and twisted metal. He died in a car crash exactly one month to the day later.

Chase couldn’t see anything but a link. He didn’t know how he didn’t see it before .

In his spare time, which he didn’t have much of, he searched for the former members of the Echo team. It was no easy task when none of them existed on paper.

His mind drifted on this polluted current of thought until Denver shifted beside him, bringing him back to the present. He didn’t know how long he’d remained silent after Denver’s question, but he could guess that several minutes had passed.

He dropped his stare from the sky to the ground. Cracks in the pavement ran like trails on a map around his heavy military-issue boots. Some of the cracks branched out and stopped. Others bled into larger cracks to create wider fissures. He couldn’t help but compare the cracks to life.

“There’s a lot weighing on my mind,” he finally admitted in a low voice. “I’ve been carrying around this guilt for so long, I don’t remember a time that it wasn’t part of me.”

Henner wagged his head. “None of it was your fault, Cobra.”

“I know that. But you lose everyone around you, and you start wondering why you were spared.”

May wore a gentle expression of sympathy, and Henner and Denver took turns staring at the cracked pavement too.

Chase swallowed the sharp lump that always formed in his throat when he tried to talk about Echo. “If I can find out what happened to my team, it would give my own survival some meaning. If I can bring down Cypher…”

No one spoke—there didn’t seem to be much to say.

Luckily, the low whine of a plane engine broke the moment. Henner and May’s bags sat on the ground not far from them, and Henner picked them up, slipping the strap of his duffel over his shoulder and gripping May’s bag in one hand.

They stood close together, watching the plane come in for a landing and taxi around for them to board.

Henner held out a fist to Denver, who bumped knuckles with him. He did the same to Chase, his gaze direct. “Hang in there. Stay safe.”

The light graze of his knuckles against his brothers-in-arms’ felt like a deal made. Above all, Chase was a survivor. They all were. And they would continue fighting until the bastard responsible for all of this was in a maximum-security prison…or better, six feet under.

Minutes later, the couple was in the air on their way to New Mexico. Chase widened his stance and followed the plane’s ascent until it disappeared from sight.

“Now we wait for the diplomat,” he muttered.

“Think she’ll remember you?” Denver asked.

He grunted. “We never interacted. I only picked her out because of her appearance, and I remember every face.”

Denver nodded. They were all trained to do exactly that.

“Besides, I was wallpaper in the background, a common soldier in the trenches, while she worked to free that hostage.” He could remember a lot about the woman. Like how she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was deep in thought.

“Echo was there that day?”

He dipped his head in a brief nod. “There was a journalist held by a group of terrorists trying to strike a deal with the US. Our team was called in to guard the negotiator and handle the terrorists…after.”

Denver didn’t need more intel on the situation. He’d been on plenty of similar ops. “She went from hostage negotiator to ambassador in a few short years. Fast climb.”

“Not surprising. It was a big victory. Probably launched her career.” He scanned the sky again, but there was no sign of the damn plane.

Long minutes passed, and Chase’s nerves surged into overdrive. Waiting wasn’t one of his strengths, and he wasn’t looking forward to this duty. Dealing with women usually brought trouble.

He dragged in a deep breath, filled his lungs to bursting, and released the air in a whoosh. It didn’t alleviate the stress arcing through him like a lightning storm.

Finally, Chase caved to the need for distraction and spoke to Denver. “I get you’re the strong, silent type, but I could really use some conversation here.”

Denver let out a snort. “Sorry, man. I get it. This whole thing has to have your sanity fucked.”

“You could say that. It isn’t helping that we’re waiting on this Vargas woman.”

Denver swung his head to pierce him in his stare. “Women are difficult on the best of days. My little sister is a huge pain in the ass.”

Chase studied his friend’s face. The men in Blackout rarely spoke about their pasts. Families, friends, their former lives, it was all wiped out the minute they signed their Blackout papers and became dead men walking.

“It’s even worse waiting on a stuck-up one with power. She’s going to be insufferable.”

“You make it sound like you know her. Wait—I saw the way you looked at that photo of her. You thought she was pretty. Do you have a crush on her?” Denver’s teeth flashed with his grin.

Chase grated out a rough laugh. “It’s not about the woman.”

“Sure.”

“You realize we’re sitting ducks out here.”

“I get it now. You’re feeling hunted.” Denver glanced around at the vacant lot where they were waiting. Only a few cars for the airstrip personnel were parked far away and there weren’t many places a sniper could hide. “Doesn’t look very perilous to me,” Denver said.

He cut his fingers through his hair, warm from the sun, agitation a hot coal in his chest.

“I could get shot just as easily as you, bro. Not that big a deal. No reason to be edgy, not even about the woman.”

Chase huffed but he was far from amused. “She’s nothing to me.”

“You better watch yourself. Look what happened to Con and Henner after they were alone on an op with a woman. Believe me…you don’t want to put yourself through that. Don’t get involved. There’s no future in it.” He leveled a look at Chase.

That coal in his chest swelled to twice its size and spread to his lungs. First he wanted Denver to talk—now he wanted him to shut up.

“Getting involved is the last thing on my mind. I don’t even know this woman.”

Finally, the low hum of another plane filled their ears, and they craned their necks to look for it. The small silver aircraft came into view, growing larger the closer it got.

When it touched down in a screech of airbrakes and landing gear on the runway, Denver twitched his head toward the parking lot. “I’ll bring the car over. You wait for the women.”

Of course he was left to make contact, but he didn’t argue. Denver jogged off to get the car.

Minutes later, the plane door opened, and a set of stairs lowered to the ground. At first, no one appeared, then a small woman filled the doorway and began to descend the steps.

Denver parked the car a few steps from the plane and got out just as a second woman emerged, this one with blonde hair.

Chase locked his stare on Alyssa Vargas. She looked the same as he remembered her. Only this time she wasn’t wearing loose linen clothes like that day in the Middle East. Her phone was clasped to her ear, and her hair was in a sleek ponytail. Her black suit conformed to her curves, which swayed only lightly as she strode right past him and Denver and got in the car.

“Friendly ladies,” Denver muttered under his breath.

Chase set his jaw. This was just the sort of behavior he expected from the ambassador. For her to treat anyone under her as little more than a servant. The people who guarded her were nothing but wallpaper in the background of her life.

Denver let out a low whistle as the pretty blonde assistant approached them.

She offered them both a smile. “I’m sorry Ambassador Vargas didn’t say hello—she’s under a lot of stress today.”

“Aren’t we all?” Chase didn’t bother to keep the irritation out of his tone.

She looked from Chase to Denver. “Would you guys mind getting our luggage?” Then she walked off to the car and slipped into the back seat with the ambassador.

Chase shook his head once the door shut. “Get involved? With that? I’d rather be tied up in a pit of vipers.”

Denver issued a gruff laugh. “You mean the car ride is going to be any different?”

They shared a genuine laugh and moved forward to grab the luggage off the cracked tarmac. They might be in for a hell of a ride, but at least they still had their humor.

* * * * *

Alyssa never felt so relieved to end anything in her life. Her call with General Hemmings had tested everything she knew about relations with people in power and then some.

With a sigh, she lowered the phone from her ear and let it rest on her lap. Kennedy sat beside her, looking unruffled against the dark leather of the car interior. And Alyssa…Alyssa had stress sweat.

Thank god for good deodorant and the air conditioning trickling through the car vents.

Now she was on her way to a meeting with the secretary-general of the United nations, her old mentor from the early days of her career. She carried a lot of respect for him, and that respect flowed both ways. So the last thing he said to her lingered like black smog coating her mind.

Be careful, Alyssa. You would make a nice target.

The two men who’d come to escort them from the airstrip to the United Nations were definitely military. Having a security detail always allowed her to relax, and these guys oozed with confidence. The bonus was that they didn’t ask her any questions. After the calls she’d taken in the air, more questions were the last thing she needed.

“How are you holding up?” Kennedy asked in a soft voice meant to keep their discussion private even though the military guys were a foot away in the front seats.

She pushed out another sigh. “Everyone wants answers I don’t have yet.”

In the rearview mirror, she caught a set of dark gray eyes fixed on her. “We can share what we know if it helps,” the driver said.

“Not unless you know how a bomb ended up in the ICE detention center.”

The men traded an indecipherable look. Then the other spoke. “I’ll share what I can.”

The guy in the passenger seat was huge. The swells of his muscled shoulders were wider than the seat he rode in. And his short, almost black beard gave off vibes of a movie villain.

“We believe the bomb was the same one we tracked from Turkey to Fort Leonard Wood, where we lost it.”

She gave a small shake of her head. “You managed to follow a bomb all the way across the ocean but lost it in the country?”

“It’s a big country.” He twisted his head and fixed her in his stare. His brown eyes were just as intense as his companion’s.

She drew in a calming breath. This was what she wanted when she accepted the position. Her goal had always been to help people. Now, more than ever, she had to remember that.

She touched her fingertips to her throat, feeling the light throb of her pulse. She needed to start over with these men. “I’m Alyssa Vargas, the ambassador to Mexico. And this is my assistant, Kennedy Bloom.”

The driver nodded at her in the mirror. “Special Operative Denver Malone.”

“Special Operative Julian Chase.”

She and Kennedy smiled at the introduction. With that out of the way, she hedged forward to find out what she could from these men.

“I’d like to question whoever had eyes on the bomb last,” she began.

Chase twisted his head to look at her again. “Kinda hard to question a dead man.”

Alyssa had a handful of pieces to this puzzle and none of them seemed to fit together, but it wasn’t her job to see the whole picture. It was her job to smooth relations between their country and Mexico.

“What else do you know about the explosion?” she asked.

Special Operative Chase responded, “The bomb never got inside the building. Reports are that it was being checked in when it detonated, but we can’t confirm that since those people are all dead too.”

“I see.” She could see why Mexico was screaming “gross negligence” at the facility.

Suddenly, she realized how calm and quiet the street was. She and Kennedy were making a stop at their hotel in downtown Manhattan before going on to the United Nations.

But these streets were far from the busy city Alyssa knew with rush-hour traffic, honking horns and sirens blaring in intervals.

“Are you taking a different route to the hotel?”

The driver’s eyes flicked to hers again. “We know all the scenic routes.”

Alyssa relaxed a measure. “How did you get the lucky job of following me around anyway?”

“I requested it.” Chase’s statement came out rough with an undercurrent of grit.

She blinked in surprise. “Why?”

Again, he swung his head. Brown eyes fixed on her face, he opened his mouth to respond.

Before he could answer, her phone buzzed in her lap. One look at the screen had her wishing the air conditioner was on full blast.

“It’s the president.”

“Of the United States?” Denver asked.

“Of Mexico.” She answered the call in Spanish. As she spoke, she grew aware of another conversation taking place in the car around her.

“Her Spanish is pretty good,” the driver commented.

“You should hear her speak Arabic,” Chase said.

How did he know she spoke Arabic?

Her gaze flew to Chase’s profile, but those granite features gave nothing away about his statement.

“You haven’t heard anything yet,” Kennedy added in a whisper as not to interrupt Alyssa’s call.

“How many languages does she speak?” Denver asked.

“Yes, yes. Thank you, Mr. President,” she said as he ended the call in order to take another.

Alyssa lowered the phone from her ear.

“Seven,” she announced to the other passengers. “That’s how many languages I speak. And how is it that you know I speak Arabic?”

Chase only gave her a sideways glance. Though his lips firmed at the corner, he didn’t utter a response.

She was surprised when they pulled up in front of their hotel, but it couldn’t come sooner. Her schedule was tight—she had orders to be in the secretary-general’s office in one hour. That left just enough time to check in to their hotel. But the thought of getting out of the vehicle, walking through the hotel, made her stomach flutter.

Leaving the car engine idling, Denver climbed out of the vehicle and spoke with the valet.

Alyssa leaned forward to address Chase. “What’s going on?”

“We have to leave the car with the valet.”

“Can’t Special Operative Malone park the car?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Denver and I are a team. We can’t split up to find parking, and circling the block is out of the question.”

“I see. Well, you’re escorting us inside the hotel right?” Her voice wasn’t as steady as she liked, and picking up on it, Kennedy shot Alyssa a swift glance.

Chase didn’t look at her when he responded. “Where you go, we go.”

Good. Very good. Though her schedule was highly secure, and no one knew her movements, the thought of taking a single step without a bodyguard worried her.

Denver ducked back inside the vehicle and traded a quick, loaded glance with Chase—one of those silent conversations that said more than words ever could.

In a flash, Chase was out of the car and moving, guiding both her and Kennedy through the glass hotel doors while Denver followed with their luggage in one big hand as if it was filled with pillows and air.

With Chase cutting through the lobby like a battering ram in combat boots, and Denver solid and steady at her back, Alyssa let herself breathe .

For the first time all day, she felt like the world wasn’t on fire.

But in her gut, she knew the real heat hadn’t even started.