Page 22 of Men of Fort Dale: The Complete Series

“You’re supposed to be a part of this, you know,” Ricardo informed him.

“And disappeared for fifteen minutes without letting anyone know where you were going.”

“We gonna continue?” Ricardo asked.

Ricardo turned with a shake of his head. “Don’t see the point, man. Not like we’re going anywhere.”

“For now. But we need to remain sharp for when they decide to send us back out,” Sean told him, his voice firm.

“If you say so.”

Sean did, but mostly because he had to believe it was true.

The loss of one of their own had hit their team hard in more ways than one.

Where once Team Maelstrom had been a collection of five highly trained men, experts in cover extraction, now they were four soldiers without a purpose.

They could barely call themselves a team.

Pulled from the Middle East and set down at Fort Dale, they were left to sit around for weeks without any real direction and told to keep themselves trained and sharp by General Winter.

Walking past Ricardo, Sean moved quietly through the foliage, letting his friend stew in his thoughts.

When he entered the clearing where he’d left the other team members, the two men were lounging against a tree.

Matt was tapping away at his phone, grumbling as he always did when it didn’t cooperate, while Nick was enjoying what looked like a nice nap.

“Seriously?” Sean asked.

Matt looked up, brow still furrowed. “Oh, hey, he found you.”

“Not like he wanders off anywhere different,” Nick muttered without opening his eyes.

“There’s always a first time,” Matt said.

Sean took a deep breath. “Get your asses up. We’ve got work to do.”

Matt shoved his phone away. “Not like I’m getting anything done here anyway. Damn thing doesn’t want to load anything.”

“Maybe if you didn’t feel the need to fuss with every bit of code on every app and program you’ve got on it, it might actually work.”

“I’m trying to improve it!”

“Yeah, just like you improved the last five.”

Sean rubbed his head as the two men bickered back and forth over whether Matt’s technological tinkering had merit.

They’d always been like brothers, too close in age, and it usually fell on Sean’s shoulders to tell them to shut it.

Being stuck at Fort Dale had only worsened the arguing, and it was beginning to wear on Sean’s nerves.

“Enough!” Sean barked, causing the two men to jerk their heads toward him.

The identical looks of shock and annoyance went a long way to proving the idea they were secretly related.

That was if it wasn’t for the fact that Matthew had the deep bronze skin of his Latino roots to go with his dark hair and eyes, while Nick was a blond-haired pale boy from the middle of Nebraska.

Either someone’s mother had something to own up to, or Sean had been gifted with two bickering idiots.

“Don’t have to be a dick about it,” Matt grumbled.

Nick rolled his eyes. “Yes, he does.”

“Maybe to you.”

“You were included.”

Sean pinched the bridge of his nose, telling himself he couldn’t get away with killing them. Though he was sure plenty of people would believe Matt and Nick had somehow met with an accident, the people who counted wouldn’t.

“It’s hard to believe they’re highly trained adults,” Ricardo mentioned from beside him.

Sean turned to look at him in exasperation. “Have they always been this bad, and I’m only now noticing? Or are they so much worse than usual?”

Ricardo shrugged. “I haven’t noticed a difference.”

Sean had, but not just in how much Matt and Nick had taken to bickering.

Thankfully, they rarely got into full-scale arguments, but the sound of their irritated chatter back and forth was almost worse.

It didn’t help that Ricardo had somehow mastered the art of blocking them out, either choosing to ignore them or somehow finding a way not to hear them.

He’d always been good at it but seemed oblivious to everything now.

The thought made him feel even worse when he realized Clint would have stopped them, somehow managing to keep the peace.

Sean growled. “I don’t care if I’m being a dick about it. You two have been doing nothing but bickering all day. You sound like little kids. You’re soldiers, highly trained, deadly soldiers. Fucking act like it.”

They shot him mutinous looks, but they finally shut up, which was all Sean could hope for.

Save for finding a way to gag them, Sean didn’t know how to keep Nick and Matt from arguing.

Like brothers, the two men were also very close, spending their free time around one another and knowing every detail of each other’s lives.

The whole team had been close, but despite the apparent need to argue about everything, Matt and Nick had been perhaps the closest of the original five Team Maelstrom members.

And Sean didn’t know what had happened to that.

“So, what do you want us to do?” Matt asked, barely keeping the edge from his voice.

As he felt his temper rising, he could sense Ricardo drifting away from the conversation.

Nick looked like he wished he were anywhere else, and Matt looked like he was spoiling for a fight.

It felt as though the four of them were rapidly spiraling out of control and away from one another, their ironclad bonds splintering and threatening to shatter under the right pressure.

And despite trying, there wasn’t a thing Sean could do to stop it.

Sean’s jaw tightened. “Forget it. General Winter isn’t going to care if we leave an hour early. He’ll expect that we have our shit together by the time the next exercise comes around, so get your shit together, and let’s get out of here.”

“Yessir,” Matt shot back, annoyance clear on his face.

Ignoring him, Sean walked past the duo with Ricardo behind him.

The boat that would take them back to the peninsula on which the fort sat was on the other side of the island.

No doubt, Matt and Nick would have appreciated help hauling the equipment, but Sean figured they could make up for being unruly asses by lugging it back themselves.

“Do you think they’re going to have it out one of these days, or are they going to keep bickering like little old ladies until I lose my sanity?” Sean asked Ricardo once they were what he felt was a safe distance away.

“It doesn’t help when you don’t have any patience.”

Sean snorted. “I think I’ve shown them a shit ton of patience. If I didn’t, I would have knocked their heads together ages ago. They never used to fight like this.”

“And you used not to wander off and stare at the ocean, and you’ve never been the most patient of people, but you never barked at us either.”

“I always bark.”

“Not like that.”

Sean glanced at him, thought about arguing, and decided against it.

There’d been enough tempers flaring and heads butting for one day.

Plus, Ricardo wouldn't give him the fight he could feel himself spoiling for.

The munitions expert never lost his temper and only raised his voice in a firefight to be heard above the noise of bullets and mortars.

There was always a little distance in how Ricardo handled others, but that distance had never been greater than during the last few months.

“I’ve also never watched my team fall apart,” Sean finally said, looking away.

He wasn’t surprised when Ricardo said nothing, lapsing into predictable silence as they made their way through the dense trees and onto the beach. No one wanted to talk about the gaping wound in their team, still aching and bleeding months after the loss of Clint.

Clint Finer had been a good man with a clear head, and he’d also been an excellent recon and intelligence specialist. He knew exactly how to situate himself in the dynamic established by Nick, Matt, Ricardo, and Sean, and he did so with the finesse and grace that Sean had envied.

Without meaning to, the man had become a key member of their team, not just in the field but back in the safety of home.

He had been their brother in arms, best friend, and support.

And now he was dead.

Ricardo reached the boat and checked it over. “What are you going to tell General Winter?”

Sean looked up, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“You told them he’s not going to care, but we both know he’s going to notice we weren’t here the full day. He’s going to say something,” Ricardo said, though he didn’t sound bothered.

Sean shrugged but couldn't think of anything to say in response. He had no doubt General Winter would be curious to find out why Sean had called off the exercise early. Team Maelstrom was temporarily out of commission until Command could determine someone to take Clint’s place on the team.

Sean didn’t believe they would ever be able to find someone who could fill his dead friend’s shoes, but he wasn’t going to waste his breath telling Command that.

Team Maelstrom was supposed to be an elite squad, experts in reconnaissance and extractions.

Once, they had been very good at what they did, and Command wanted them back in the field when the entire team’s slots were filled again.

They didn’t care about the emotional aspect, the hemorrhaging of team morale, or the slow, agonizing death of their bond.

They wanted a good fit, one that looked good on paper, and to shove the stranger into the group.

Which was why General Winter wanted Sean to keep the team in shape.

That way, they’d be able, theoretically, to integrate a new member without trouble.

Sean heaved himself over the side of the boat.

“He’ll call me into his office and ask me why the hell I called the exercise off early.

I’ll make up something that sounds reasonable, and he’ll either give me that iron glare of his or give me hell.

Then he’ll remind me how important it is that we stay at our best, and I’ll agree completely.

Then he’ll make me leave, reminding me not to let it happen again. ”

“And probably remind you that they’re still searching for someone else,” Ricardo added as he stepped into the boat.

The last time Sean had been in General Winter’s office, the older man had all but said they were close to finding someone to replace Clint.

Sean wasn’t sure what the delay had been, as he didn’t believe for a moment that those in charge cared about the team's emotional well-being and were trying to give them time. Yet he couldn’t think what could possibly have delayed them finding a replacement for nearly four months.

“I’ve given that a lot of thought, and I think they’re running out of intel guys who are willing to do fieldwork,” Sean said with a shrug.

Ricardo frowned. “I don’t think so.”

Sean eyed him. “Are you going to say that Command actually gives a shit about how we’re doing? That they’re trying to give us time?”

“No, but I think Winter does.”

Sean raised his brow in disbelief. “General Winter? Really?”

Ricardo shrugged. “I’ve never heard anything bad about him, and most people at Fort Dale seem to enjoy working at his base. When was the last time you heard someone bitch about him specifically?”

“Well...never.”

“If anything, most people on base have nothing but respect for him. You don’t earn that kind of universal respect by being a prick.”

“Wait, so you think General Winter is putting off the decision?”

Ricardo waited a moment, nodding slowly. “I think because we were put here, and he’s been keeping an eye on us, he’s been trying to figure out a good fit for us.”

Sean snorted derisively. “You really think he’s going to know what’s going to work, or who’s going to work, let alone gives a shit?”

“I think you’re too busy being pissed off at everything to notice anything else,” Ricardo said, sitting down at the helm.

“I am not pissed off.”

“Just because you haven’t taken a swing at anyone doesn’t mean you’re not pissed off.”

Sean opened his mouth, spared having to respond by the crash of heavy feet.

It was followed by a loud complaint from Matt when he caught sight of them, equipment on his back and under each arm.

Nick was right behind him, quick to start arguing with Matt over his moaning.

And just like that, they were back to bickering as they fought to get the equipment into the boat.

Sean looked at Ricardo. “I hope you’re right, and General Winter knows what he’s doing. It’s going to take a miracle to fix this disaster of a team.”