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His soul.

To think it would go down like this — betrayed by their own people. Lost on the wrong side of a volatile border. A fate he could alter if he rose to the challenge. Pushed past his limits.

Rain pummeled the bubble, the lone wiper barely keeping up.

Not that he could see much with streaks of black cutting across his vision.

But he kept that bird pointed north. Kept the machine on the verge of crapping out as he raced across the landscape, the wind and thunder following in his wake.

Like Apollo chasing them with his chariot.

Was it getting colder? Darker? Or was Foster simply running out of time.

Chase’s hand closed over his good shoulder, jerking him back from that numbing haze. “If you have to put her down…”

Foster shook his head, pounding the heel of his other hand against his temple in an effort to clear his vision. “Not… an option.”

“Foster. Brother, you’re barely holding on.”

He shook his head again. Or maybe he’d only thought it. He couldn’t tell. Could barely feel his fingers he was so cold. “How…”

Shit. One word. That’s all he managed before his tongue got too heavy to form more.

“Don’t worry about anyone else. That’s my job. You focus on flying and not hitting the ground.”

“Can’t…”

Another one-word reply. And it cost him. Had more than just his good hand shaking. He wet his lips, forcing his eyelids open. Glancing over at Sean whenever he wanted to pack it in. Give up. Because if there was even a glimmer of hope he could still be saved…

Bile crested his throat, his eyes burning as he stared at the raging storm beyond the glass.

The lightning hardly making a difference in his visibility, anymore.

It was too late. He knew it. Felt it. From the way Chase kept shifting his weight, unable or unwilling to even place his hip on the edge of Sean’s seat, to the utter silence from the other side of the cockpit, Foster knew Sean was dead.

But Foster kept going. Clinging to the false hope that if he could stay awake — make it one more minute, one more mile — it wouldn’t be in vain.

That he hadn’t failed his brothers when they’d needed him the most.

That maybe one day, he’d be able to look at his own reflection and not see Sean’s ghost staring back.

“I’m not sure what I was expecting, Foster, but damn. You look like shit. Though, the bandages do kinda go with the long hair.”

Foster twisted toward the door, shaking his head at the man leaning against the frame. Hands shoved in his pockets, looking almost as haggard as Foster felt. Keaton Cole, Foster’s cousin and the only family Foster had left, other than the men gathered in his room. His teammates.

His brothers.

Foster arched a brow, brushing his hair out of his eyes. A leftover from his time in Flight Concepts, when he was encouraged to look like anything but typical military. He gave Keaton a once-over, waving the length of him. “And yet, still a thousand times better than you, buddy.”

“Oh, someone didn’t get their pain meds, today.” Keaton sauntered in, grinning at Chase, Kash and Zain. “You’re obviously taking fashion cues from my cuz, Remington, because you look just as bad, with Sinclair and Everett only slightly better.”

Chase flipped Keaton off as he leaned back in the chair. “At least we have a reason, Cole. What’s your excuse?”

Keaton chuckled. “Civilian life. Who knew it was crazier than the Navy.” He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting until Zain and Kash had wheeled their chairs over to Foster’s bed. “So, rumor has it you four might be considering your options.”

Zain grunted, absently rubbing his knee. Or more accurately, the new hardware hidden beneath the bandages and stitches. Foster wasn’t sure if Zain even realized he was doing it, but the pain and frustration bled through his usual facade. Testament to how much their last mission had cost them.

Foster knew his buddy was in agony. He’d heard the muffled shouts and hushed curses as Zain dragged his ass up and down the hallways several times a day.

The price of reclaiming even a hint of his former mobility.

Though, Foster knew Zain would push until he was only a slightly broken version of his former self.

Zain shrugged. “It’s come up.”

Keaton nodded, walking over and resting his hip against Foster’s bed. “I feel that. Been where you all are, myself.”

Which was an understatement. Keaton had been through hell.

Had suffered a similar loss on his last mission, when their covert op had gone off the rails and one his best friends had been killed.

While Foster didn’t know the specific details, he knew Keaton.

And based on the hollow look in his eyes — the tremor in his voice that was only now starting to ease — he’d experienced something truly horrific. Not that it had been the first time.

Keaton’s fiancée had died in a plane crash a dozen years ago, shortly after he’d joined the SEALs.

Foster had come close to losing the man back then, despite all Foster had done to try and help Keaton cope with the loss.

But words and a shoulder were rarely enough compensation for the kind of scars that took more than time to heal.

Though, Keaton had more than paid Foster back when Foster’s parents had been killed in a car accident a month ago.

Foster and his team had been running those traitorous CIA assholes all over hell’s backyard on one covert mission after another and he hadn’t been able to extract himself long enough to head home.

But Keaton had dropped everything and stepped up.

Foster would never forget that.

Foster shuffled back a bit, giving Keaton a thorough once-over. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Florida looks good on you. You sound better.”

Keaton sighed. “Getting there. Which reminds me… You should all come down for a visit. See the town. Get a feel for what we do. There’s always room for guys like you.”

Kash chuckled. “Are you suggesting we consider retiring to Florida?”

Keaton grinned. “Sunshine. Beaches.”

“Gators. Mosquitos.”

Zain swatted Kash across the chest. “And don’t forget the pythons. I hear those fuckers grow really big.”

Keaton rolled his eyes. “You’ve all been hanging around Foster for too long. The Everglades are fine.”

“Sure, if you’re looking to disappear.” Chase pointed a finger at Keaton. “Permanently.”

“Just, keep it in mind. Though, I suppose my dumbass cousin is trying to talk you all in to heading to Oregon, where there’s nothing but gray clouds and rain.”

“I’m not trying to talk them into anything.” Foster shifted on the bed, not that it helped eliminate the pain throbbing through his shoulder. “But my parents did leave me that turn-of-the-century manor house they’d been renovating. Sounds like a good place to start.”

Keaton laughed, nearly falling off the bed before he straightened. “You’re going to fix up that old dusty inn? Are you all nuts?”

“Beats swimming with gators.”

“You keep telling yourself that. Besides, Raven’s Cliff is so small, you have to run to the next town to change your mind.”

“And Calusa Cove is your idea of big time? I hate to break it to you, cuz, but it’s just as small.” Foster smiled. “And there’re gators.”

Keaton shook his head. “Still as stubborn as a damn mule. Though, I guess some things never change. Like us. Whether you’re ready to face it or not, sooner or later you’ll have to admit that we’re all just hardwired differently. No way you’ll be able to stay out of the fray for long.”

Foster pursed his lips, Sean’s gurgling rasp sounding in his head. Foster glanced over at the windows, hating the eerie apparition standing in the graying light. Blood still dripping from its neck and ribs as the ghostly image tapped its chest pocket.

It wasn’t real. He understood that much. Just a by-product of the pain and anger and loss. Too bad that knowledge didn’t make it disappear.

Keaton sighed at Foster’s silence, looking over at the window then focusing on him, again. “Hey, didn’t you mention something about an old JSOC commander of yours starting up a search and rescue organization there?”

Foster snorted. “Colonel Atticus Parker. Bastard’s already called me twice. Wants to know when we’re all signing up.”

“And?”

“I told him I wasn’t interested, but no isn’t in the old man’s vocabulary.”

“Is this where we start a pool on how long it’ll be before you’ve all been recruited?”

“About as long as it would for me to move down to the Everglades.” Foster shifted again, but it only shot pain down through his ribs. “I don’t suppose you’d do us a solid?”

Keaton laughed. “I already ordered a few pizzas. Just thought I’d stop in and visit while they were being made. I’ll go grab them. Keep my seat warm.”

His cousin headed for the door, pausing at the threshold. “Whatever you jerks decide, do yourselves a favor — stick together. Civilians really are crazy and knowing I still have my team watching my six is the only reason I’ve stayed sane.” He made a finger gun at Foster. “That, and you, cuz.”

“Just grab the pizzas before we all start puking.”

“Your wish.” Keaton headed out, leaving a strange void in the air. As if he’d taken most of the oxygen with him. Left nothing but uncertainty behind.

Foster cleared his throat, looking each of his buddies in the eyes.

“I know we talked about calling it quits. Going to Oregon and seeing if a change in venue somehow fixes the broken parts the doctors can’t splint.

And there’ll always be a place waiting there for you jackasses to hang your hat.

But there’s no pressure. Given some time and enough rehab, you all might?—”

“Might what, Beck?” Kash shuffled in his seat. “Get the urge to jump back in the saddle? Put our lives in the hands of some traitorous agents, again? Because I don’t know about Zain and Chase, but there’s not a chance in hell I could go down that road, again.”

Some of the color drained from Kash’s face and Foster suspected he wasn’t the only one reliving that night.

Though, Kash had nearly lost his four-legged partner, Nyx, on the gauntlet run back to the chopper.

Realizing she’d almost died in order to protect two traitors who’d then killed Sean and put Rhett in what might be a permanent coma had obviously affected Kash on a whole other level.

Kash sighed. “I’m not saying that staying on the sidelines is in the cards. But I’m ready to try something new. While I’m still alive enough to enjoy it.”

Zain gave Kash’s arm a pat. “What he said. We’re all up for re-enlistment over the next two months. Seems almost poetic in the timing, if you ask me.”

“Which is why we didn’t.” Chase dodged Zain’s slap. “And you’re not pressuring us, Foster. After everything that went down…” He swallowed, looking as if he might puke. “I think we could use a fresh start. Don’t much care where that is, other than Florida. That’s just wrong.”

Foster nodded, a bit of the tension in his chest easing.

“Then, it’s settled. I’ll contact the lawyer — get him to send over the papers he’s been keeping for me.

Just remember. I warned you all ahead of time that nothing exciting happens in Raven’s Cliff.

So, make peace with that. Things are about to get really boring. ”