Page 1 of Mariposa (Queens Command #1)

KADE

“ J esus, old man, when are you going to settle the fuck down?”

Smirking like a devil, I shake my head at Booker.

“You’re insufferable, Chaos.” I flip him off. “Same argument, different day. When do I even have time to give anyone? I’m always gone. I’m never home. What’s the point?”

We’re high in the sky, flying over the mountains in a war zone and about ten minutes out from our target area.

“Master Sergeant!” A hand touches my shoulder.

I jerk my head towards Owen Pearl, the youngest special operator on the team. He has bright red hair and freckles all over his nose—his call sign is Kid.

He removes his hand, getting the message that I don’t like to be touched. I don’t even like to talk before missions, but Booker is my best friend, so I’ll make an exception. But Kid? He better have a good excuse.

My scarred brow raises, and even through my balaclava skull mask, Kid senses my unwelcome expression. He gulps and fidgets in the seat of the Black Hawk.

“Sir. Permission to speak freely?”

I clearly intimidate him by the way he stutters and shifts like this, a usual nervous tick for him.

I nod.

“I just want to say it’s an honor to be on this mission with you. Everyone knows who you are. Everyone knows about you and Grim. I aspire to have a successful career like both of you. Any advice?”

I stiffen. My brows knit together with a hardened gaze. He studies and waits for me to say something.

The Black Hawk turns sharply, causing everyone to groan and hold on for dear life.

“Fuck, I hate flying.” Booker lifts his mask just enough to expose his mouth, grabs a bag, and retches inside it.

I chuckle. Motion sickness always gets to Booker.

“Asshole, turn that way.” I nudge his shoulder with mine until he faces Slater beside him.

“Advice…” I say pensively. Taking out my latest project from my pocket, I continue working on a Punisher skull for Adam. I enjoy carving wood in my spare time.

A piece of wood flies onto the floor as I tilt my head to the side, shrugging. “Stay alive. Survive.”

Kid laughs naively as he gapes. He keeps going as if waiting for me to join his awkward, broken chuckles. With a scowl on my face, my eyes narrow into slits.

“Oh, you weren’t kidding?” His smile disappears.

I say nothing.

“That’s it? Survive?” He waves his hand, bewildered.

“Don’t freeze up,” I add.

He watches me, waiting for more, but then nods when I don’t break eye contact. “Okay. Cool. I guess.”

“How’s your son, Adam, doing?” Booker grumbles next to me. His green face slowly turns back to normal.

“We don’t talk, but from what I know, he’s doing just fine. His mother just told me he has plans to propose to his long-time girlfriend. I’ve never met the girl, but Penny has nothing but great things to say about her.”

“You have a son?” Kid chimes in enthusiastically. “I ask because…” His gloved hand reaches into his pocket and takes out an ultrasound photo. There sits a little bean with an arrow pointing at it and a label that says heartbeat .

“I’m officially a dad to this little peanut,” he says proudly. His eyes gleam with pure elation. “We don’t know the gender yet, but I’m praying for a daughter. I come from a family of all boys, hoping to be the first to break the Pearls’ curse.”

“Damn, Kid. You’re only twenty-one years old and already having babies?” Booker blares over the loud helicopter machinery. He reaches over my lap and inspects the photo in Kid’s hand.

“I had mine at seventeen, so I can’t say shit,” I mumble.

“Beast. Thirty seconds,” the pilot’s stoic robotic voice says in my ear.

“Roger that.”

I place my little project away and tuck my favorite knife into my kit before I gesture to everyone. “Lock it up!”

Everyone stiffens, straightening their backs and drifting into a different mindset.

We don the masks that we put on before every mission, and I’m not talking about the balaclavas.

There’s a type of eerie silence that we sit in before the operation begins, knowing that this helicopter ride might be our last.

We secured the area even with the current sandstorm that’s wreaking havoc on the village, and it’s a job well done. All of us get to go back home in one piece.

Slater and Booker escort one of the targets.

They walk him through the exit of the half-blown-up building with a missing roof.

He bellows out curse words under his breath the entire time, fighting against them as much as he can.

He’s an extremist responsible for the cold-blooded torture and murder of hundreds of families and soldiers.

Kid stays close behind. He’s looking around, on high alert, searching for any more threats even though it’s been cleared. He managed to take this mission slowly, learning and grasping the knowledge from us senior operators.

“You did good, Kid,” I tell him as I peer over my shoulder. I readjust my rifle on my shoulder when I spot him around the hallway’s corner. Watching his side, a few feet away, he goes still as a statue with saucer eyes, gawking inside a room that was already secured.

“Kid?”

His fingers tremble, convulsing around his pistol.

He’s hesitating .

Shit.

Two shots ring out, piercing him. His body jolts with each blow, sending him to the ground, hard. The mics go off with questions thrown out, one after the other.

“Man down, man down!”

Sprinting over to him, I do what I’m trained to do, following the rules of engagement and eliminating the threat with my weapon. Three shots and a man with hatred flickering in his eyes drops.

I examine Kid, who’s already being attended to medically by our designated personnel.

Kneeling, I assess the damage.

One bullet pierced right through his carotid artery.

He only has about thirty seconds left from the time he got hit until his heart stops beating.

I pull off his mask as my knees are drenched in a pool of crimson.

His strawberry-blond hair perks up from the static.

Red drops out of his mouth too fast, with no ending in sight.

He chokes and wheezes as he attempts to speak.

Fifteen. Fourteen. Thirteen. Twelve.

“T-tell my w-wife, that I—” he stutters weakly. He swallows the blood, his throat moving up and down before he continues. “T-that I love her?”

Eleven. Ten. Nine. Eight.

“I know, brother, I got you. We all got you.”

Seven. Six. Five. Four .

His lips flatten, and with tears still pouring out of his eyes and down the sides of his pale face, he takes his last breath.

Three. Two. One.

Shutting my eyes tightly, I grind my teeth violently.

His first mission…and he’s KIA.

“No,” I whisper, monotone. “He has a baby on the way… no .”

“He’s gone,” Booker relays as everyone rushes in to escort Kid to the medevac.

Fuck.