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Several seconds passed as the team processed the bomb Webb just dropped. Needing to recap—to make sure he understood what the powerful man was saying—Chase went back over what they’d just learned.

“Okay, so let me see if I’ve got this straight.” His gaze swept the room before landing on Webb. “We go to Kandahar on a surveillance-only mission, during which two separate Taliban groups opened fire on each other, and an innocent woman was caught in the crossfire. The woman’s daughter, this…Kaamisha person…gets the wrong intel, and thinks it’s our fault her mother died. She somehow finds out we’re coming back to the area two weeks later and manages to convince enemy forces to slaughter us on her behalf. Is that what you’re saying?”

He held the man’s stare and waited for confirmation.

The nod Webb gave matched the certainty in the man’s eyes. “As far-fetched as it sounds, the intel and evidence we’ve gathered so far points to that very scenario.”

“Bullshit,” Van growled from where he still stood. With his arms crossed tightly at his broad chest, the man looked even more pissed off than normal.

Can’t say I blame you on this one, big guy.

“It’s not bullshit, Braddock,” Webb argued. “You’re familiar with the kind of screening that’s done with incoming intel. We’re also still looking into Dawari’s known contacts, and I have techs scrubbing her background and electronic footprint with a fine-toothed comb. We may not have the names of all those involved yet, but we will. I just need you boys to know that everything we’ve received up to this point…it’s as solid as it gets.”

Chase turned his focus to the woman on the screen. She was standing in front of what appeared to be a university building, and she was smiling.

Big. Bright. Toothy smile. One that lit up her eyes in a way that almost shouted innocence.

Sure doesn’t look like a cold-blooded killer to me.

“NCIS proved the bullet that killed that woman came from one of the terrorists’ weapons. Not ours,” Archer pointed out. “ That’s who she should blame.”

“I know that, and you know that,” Webb acknowledged. “Hell, even the president knows that. But you’ve seen enough grief during your years in service to know it affects everyone differently. Especially when a loved one is lost in such a sudden and violent manner.” His gaze shifted back to Van’s. “They look for someone— anyone —to blame. And sometimes, in their tormented desperation, that blame shifts in the wrong direction.”

The room grew quiet once more before Lucky chimed back in. “So in the two weeks between her mother’s death and our return to Afghanistan, this Dawari woman somehow finds out when and where we’ll be, puts herself in bed with the fucking Taliban, sets us up to die, and then just…walks away?”

“Dude.” Chase shot Lucky a look. “You basically just repeated what I said.”

“Sorry. You start talking, and my ears just sort of shut down, all on their own.”

“Hardy-har, asshole.” He flipped the jerk the bird.

“Well, you were both right.” Logan rejoined the conversation, bypassing their juvenile ribbing altogether. “We lost Hunter that day, but the rest of us managed to walk away. Yet, in three years’ time, she hasn’t tried coming after us again.” He glanced around at Chase and the others. “Why not?”

Chase met his former team lead’s stare. “Maybe one of us was all she needed. An eye for an eye and all that.”

“My thoughts exactly, Mr. Boyer.” Webb slid his hands into his pockets and widened his stance. “According to the most current intel, there have been no other threats made toward you or your team, nor are there any active plans for further retribution. But you men wanted answers, and you damn well deserve them. Now, I get that this isn’t a confession, and we still have to locate her, but I wanted to look you all in the eye and deliver the news in person.” His gaze slid back to Van’s. “ That’s why I’m here.”

Holy shit. They finally had an answer. After three years of non-stop anguish, heartache, and countless sleepless nights, Chase and the team finally knew the identity of the person behind Hunter’s death.

Now we just have to catch the murderous bitch and bring her to the States where she can stand trial for acts of terror…and murder.

“You’re still going after her, right?” Lucky asked their former boss’s boss. “I mean, now that you know who she is, you’re not letting this go. Right?” He scooted closer to the table, resting his elbows on its smooth surface. “Because if that woman recently had someone torture a CIA asset for intel on our team, then it sure as shit doesn’t seem like she’s done with us to me.”

“I won’t give up until Dawari is either behind bars or dead, Mr. Lucas.” Webb nodded. “Once we have enough evidence for a solid conviction, I can officially put a team on the ground to locate and bring her in. But JAG is going to need more than conjecture and chatter to build their case, and since this investigation is completely off-books and under the radar, it’s going to take some time.”

The deep grunt coming from Van expressed not only his, but the entire team’s frustration. After all this time, they finally had the name and face of the person responsible for the loss of an American hero, as well as their careers. And now they were being asked to wait.

Again.

A familiar pang of loss and regret filled Chase’s core. Not a day passed by that he didn’t think of their fallen brother. And every time Hunt’s memory drove through his mind, so did the rising urge to find those responsible and end them.

We aren’t stopping, Hunter. We’re still here. Still fighting for the justice you deserve.

“So that’s it?” Lucky asked the man in charge of the Department of the Navy.

Webb met his stare before giving his chin a single dip. “For now. But rest assured, this is nowhere near the end. I have an entire team of operatives and assets working on this.”

“Off the books, of course.” Van reiterated the man’s recent point with an edge of attitude.

“It’s either off the books or not at all, Braddock. Your call.” When no one said otherwise, Webb presumably took their silence as permission to continue their search for justice. “For now, gentlemen, I’d take this as a win. Our biggest obstacle has been finding out the who. Now that we have that answer, the rest should fall into place. I know asking you to sit on your hands and wait…again…is a lot. But given the walls we’ve already hit with this mess, if I were you, I’d take this one as a win.”

“Hunt’s dead,” Van bit back. “No one fucking wins.”

“You’re right. Regardless, I will continue fighting for at least a sliver of peace for you and your teammates.”

The look on Webb’s lined face said the man meant those words to his very core.

“Thank you,” Chase offered quietly. “For coming all this way and for…not giving up.”

“Kaamisha Dawari came after one of my teams.” A flash of anger filled Webb’s hardened gaze. “She may not have fired the bullet that killed Hunt, but as far as I’m concerned, she may as well have.”

I couldn’t agree more.

After a few more comments and final parting words, Secretary Webb said his goodbyes and left. Chase and the others followed suit, exiting the war room with a renewed weight pushing down on their shoulders.

It was almost as if the closer they got to answers, the heavier Chase’s sense of dread became. Which made no sense, given how badly he and the others needed to close this chapter of their lives.

For their sake and Natalie’s. And for Hunter’s memory.

“You’ve got walk-ins today, right?” Lucky asked as the two men made their way down the long hallway.

“Yep.” Chase approached his office door.

Since opening their doors, the members of Eagle’s Nest Securities alternated the duty of handling clients who showed up to the office without an appointment. A necessity with businesses like theirs because, as they’d seen far too often, the need for personal protection didn’t always come with advanced warning.

Crazy exes and stalkers tended to enjoy the element of surprise.

Once the firm was up and running, Chase and the others—including Natalie, who was instrumental in the start-up of Eagle’s Nest after surviving her own harrowing experience with violence—all voted to ensure one of the five-man team was available for consults during regular office hours.

Today, that job fell to him.

“Good, because my day’s jam-packed. Between paperwork from that last job, back-to-back-to-back appointments with both current and potentially new clients, and now looking into that Dawari chick, I’ll be lucky to make it home in time for dinner.”

“Call Ellie,” Chase suggested the guy call his wife. “I bet she’d be more than happy to bring something to the office.”

“I would, but she and Cassie are prepping for trial.” Lucky also mentioned Archer’s wife.

Cassie and Archer got married last year after Archer was assigned to protect the attorney from an unknown killer. Though Cass damn near died from two gunshot wounds before help could arrive, Arch and Lucky had thankfully gotten to the scene in time to save her life.

Now, just like Logan and Nat…and Lucky and Ellie…Archer and Cass were living a life of married bliss. Leaving Chase and Van as the only two single men on the team.

Three down, two to go.

The thought nearly left him snorting in amusement. The day Donovan Braddock got married would be the day Chase started believing pigs could fly.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea!” Lucky followed him into his office. “Maybe you could shoot that friend of yours a text.”

He frowned. “What friend?”

“The chef. You know…the one who works for Sloane over at Fisher House. What’s her name? Scarlett or Scout or?—”

“Scottie,” Chase clarified. “Her name is Scottie, and no. I’m not going to interrupt her at work just to see if she’ll drop what she’s doing to bring you some food.”

“Well, I didn’t mean she had to come here right now . I just thought, you know, because that food was fucking amazing the other night, your girl might still have some leftovers at the shelter she needs to get rid of.”

“And you’re so generously offering to keep the food from going to waste, is that it?”

“Of course.” Lucky blinked, keeping a straight face as he gave one shoulder a small shrug. “I’m nothing if not thoughtful.”

Chase did laugh, then. “Thoughtful. Right.”

“My wife seems to think I am.”

“Only because if you weren’t, she’d kick your ass.”

Lucky appeared to consider this a moment. “You’re probably right. Regardless…if you aren’t going to text Scottie on my behalf, you should at least do it on your own.”

His footsteps faltered a few feet from his desk. Stopping mid-stride, Chase turned and faced his friend. “Mine?”

“Sure.” The other man took it upon himself to plop his ass into one of the two black leather chairs facing the desk. With an ankle crossed over one knee, Lucky looked up at him with an unabashed grin. “It’s pretty obvious you have the hots for her.”

It is?

“First of all, I’m pretty sure no one says that anymore.” Chase resumed his steps and rounded his desk before taking a seat in his larger, more comfortable chair. “And second, Scottie and I were kids the last time I saw her. We don’t even really know each other anymore.”

“Okay, but you two were a thing back in the day, right?”

“In high school, sure. But hell, Lucky…that was like fourteen years ago.”

“So?”

“ Sooo …I don’t even know if she’s single.”

And he refused to admit to this man—or even himself—just how hopeful he was that Scottie didn’t have that special someone in her life.

“Let’s say she is,” his teammate countered. “What then?”

What then, indeed?

“Look, Jason.” Chase chose to use the man’s given name. “I get that you found The One with Ellie, and I’m really happy for you both. Truly, I am. But just because Scottie and I were close back a decade and a half ago that doesn’t mean anything’s going to happen between us now.”

“But you’re interested in her.”

It wasn’t a question, but rather a statement. And Chase couldn’t even be mad about it, because he’d pretty much walked himself right into its path.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?”

“You mean, other than the previously mentioned fourteen years of zero contact?” He arched a knowing brow. “Okay, how about the fact that when her mom died Scottie’s sophomore year, she was forced to move halfway across the country to live with her grandparents?”

Lucky frowned. “Damn. That’s rough.” He waited a beat to ask, “What about her dad?”

“Asshole split when she was a baby.” And oddly enough, Chase still felt the urge to track down the chickenshit bastard and beat his ass. “Look, the truth is, Scottie and I have both lived totally separate lives for as long as we’ve been adults.”

“Guess it’s a good thing you two live in the same city again.” His teammate pushed himself to his feet. “Sure makes getting to know each other again a lot easier when you can do it in person.”

“Who said anything about?—”

“Oh, please. I saw the way you were ogling over her the other night. And don’t waste your breath trying to deny it.”

“Well, I am going to deny it because I’ve never ogled over a woman in my life.”

It wasn’t technically a lie. His days of ogling Scottie had taken place when they were teenagers, which meant his adolescent eyes had seen a young lady. Not a full-grown woman like the one she’d so magnificently turned into.

“I’m serious, brother. You were looking at her the same way I look at Ellie. I know this, because it’s the same way Logan looks at Nat, and Archer looks at?—”

“I get it, asshole,” Chase grumbled low.

“For your sake, I hope you do. Life’s really fucking short, Chase.” Lucky walked across the office toward the opened door. “You know that as well as the rest of us. Besides…one dinner between two old friends…what’s the worst that could happen?”

The other man turned and disappeared into the shadows of the hallway. Five minutes later, Chase was still sitting there, staring at his open doorway, still contemplating what Lucky had said.

Maybe the man was right. Scottie did act pretty damn happy to see him that day in the shelter’s kitchen. And when he’d asked for her number later on—while he and the guys had been in the kitchen, grabbing the to-go meals she’d generously put together for them—she’d given him the digits without hesitation.

But that had been days ago, and he still hadn’t reached out to her. Mainly for fear of coming off too needy or desperate. He wasn’t either of those things. He fucking wasn’t.

At least he hadn’t been before unexpectedly running into the woman he’d once had plans to marry. But now?—

Fuck it.

Chase pulled his phone from his pocket and typed out a quick text…

Chase: Hey! How’s it going? It was great seeing you the other day!

He sent the message, sat back in his chair, and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Several tortuously long minutes later, his phone finally dinged with an incoming message…

Scottie: Hey, Chase! Sorry. In the middle of baking tonight’s casserole dinner. It was great seeing you, too!

When it was clear she wasn’t adding more, Chase decided to go for it. After all, what’s the worst that could happen?

Uh…she could say thanks but no thanks. Or worse, she could accept the invitation and then reveal she’s married with six kids, a dog, and two rabbits.

Okay, so maybe the rabbits were a bit too much, but still. After all this time, it was quite plausible that Scottie had no interest in revisiting that time in her life.

Double fuck it.

Chase took a deep breath, typed out a second message, and sent it her way before he could talk himself out of it…

Chase: You have plans for tonight? If not, u want to grab some food and catch up?

Another long stretch passed before she finally put him out of his misery…

Scottie: Sure! I can be out of here by six-thirty. Need an hour after that to clean up. If that’s not too late, pick a place and time, and I can meet you there.

His heart kicked against his ribs as a hefty dose of excitement coursed through his veins. Moving his thumbs across his screen at warp speed, Chase hurriedly typed back…

Chase: Caterina’s @ 8?

Caterina’s Cucina wasn’t the fanciest Italian restaurant in town. But, in his opinion, anyway, it was the best. And unless things had changed since the last time he and Scottie had hung out, Italian was her favorite.

Scottie: See you at 8!:)

Relief made its presence known in the form of a long exhale. He studied the makeshift smiley face she’d sent with that last text, and just like that, the weight that had been pressing down on him earlier was all but gone.

She’d always had the power to do that. To ease whatever ailed him simply by being there. No matter what it was, Scottie had an innate ability to make him feel as if everything was going to be okay. Even at the tender age of sixteen.

Guess some things do stay the same.

Whether anything else between them had remained the same was yet to be revealed. But Chase figured, if he were lucky, they could at least resume the close friendship they’d once shared.

And as far as he was concerned, that was a damn good place to start.