Page 3 of Remade (Hillcroft Group #3)

CHAPTER 2

October 2nd, 2024

Bo Beckett

“ A ren’t you gonna say anything?”

I glanced back at him over my shoulder, then shook my head and faced forward again. “I said you handled yourself well enough to get a gold star from Shay.”

I couldn’t look at him, to be honest.

I didn’t know if I wanted to knock his lights out or fuck him stupid—but more than that, I was terrified. Leighton was coming undone before my eyes, and I wasn’t sure he was even aware.

He had no fucking clue how much this day had messed with his head. He was just riding some wave of euphoria because he was part of an operation long before he was ready, and who knew what would happen when it was all over.

I reached our camp first—and Coach—and I handed over the two cell phones we’d lifted off the immigrants.

“All seven of them are restrained in the clearing,” I said. “Four of them need medical care ASAP.”

He inclined his head. “What do you wanna do with them?”

“I want them picked up,” I replied. “Get their asses back to Mexico and make sure they can’t reenter the country.”

Right now, I wanted the fuckers dead and buried, but I knew I’d feel different in the morning. They hadn’t asked for this.

“Copy that.” Coach walked off to…either order a ride from whoever Shira could spare in the area, or…maybe he had someone in mind who didn’t need to be here right now.

I would’ve loved for that to be Leighton, but there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d give him more responsibility today. Actually, for the next goddamn year. He wasn’t gonna see any more action until he graduated.

Fuck me.

I blew out a breath and dug out an MRE and a bottle of water from one of the backpacks, and I headed over to the camo netting and sat down behind it. I hadn’t eaten all day, and I needed to get some rest before we entered the bunker at nightfall.

These past three days could go suck my balls.

Granted, I was relieved we’d disposed of the first crew, and we had also secured my brother’s safehouse, but Jesus Christ. Not only had he stored too much sensitive information at that house, but that motherfucking tattoo of his had led enemy forces straight to it.

My name, my address, my phone number, Ma’s address, Alex’s school information… Luckily, nothing about Kat and her family.

Either way, this was why this second crew had to go too. Partly why, anyway. I mean, we couldn’t fucking have them running a drug route in our backyard. But they’d probably had access to the information in Vince’s house too. And I had every reason to think so, considering the man who was behind Vince’s murder was down in that bunker. It wasn’t a theory. We had traced his phone here, thanks to the evidence we’d collected from the others. He was here.

After setting aside my M4, I tore off the top of my ration and ignored the heater. Leighton had stayed back to talk to Quinn and Finlay, and I looked away from them. I’d deal with that shitshow later. Instead, I asked Hudson to come over as I prepared my food.

We had more time to kill before it got dark, but there was nothing I could do except double-check my strategy and ask for status updates. Shira had been sending down more people all day, then calling some back, so I wasn’t entirely sure how many heads we were at this point.

“Your face is gonna get stuck with that scowl.” Hudson squatted down in front of me and smirked into his coffee mug.

“Unless you give me good news,” I said. “What’s the latest?”

“Hyatt brought half the drones down to recharge,” he replied. “Last heat signature reading came back with nothing. Zero movement around the bunker. The Feds arrived at the first safehouse, and it won’t be long before they get to Vince’s place.”

That was good. There was always that moment of unease between the time I left a location in shambles and the next group arrived, whether they were Hillcroft people ready to clean or a government agency ready to gather evidence for a bogus case and claim credit.

I’d never cared about credit—Hillcroft rarely received it. I just wanted to make sure they did a good job of covering up the truth, and I generally didn’t trust anyone on the government payroll.

At least we never left behind what was important. Tech and whatnot. We sent that straight to our own guys, and they were currently working on two laptops and four phones from the first safehouse. We’d had junior operators going back and forth all day.

The one silver lining about running an op so close to home.

It was a first for me. I hadn’t handled a domestic case since my early years, when I’d been part of a security detail in Texas. Now I was literally an hour away from home, which would hopefully be safe again after tonight.

“Any movement in Qatar?” I asked. They were nine hours ahead of us and should be asleep by now.

That was where Karl Hahn was living his best life with his business partner Omar Said and their closest confidants. Of course, with vacation homes across Germany, in Dubai, the Caribbean, somewhere in the Golden Triangle, Tokyo, Malta, and Belize. Coincidentally, they also had corporations in those areas.

“Nothin’ outta the ordinary,” Hudson answered. “Hahn’s wife bought a horse for twenty mil, as one does, and the big boss spent the day with a mistress.”

I snorted and used my own spoon to stir the food.

“More importantly, no phone or online activity outside the normal,” he confirmed. “Squeezy’s monitoring their right-hand men and the step below too. All this shit flies under their radar. It’s pocket change.”

We already knew that. I nodded absently and glanced over at Leighton.

I’d learned just yesterday from Ryan that Squeezy’s real name was Willow Quinn, and she was his and Darius’s baby sister.

Reese had made it sound like she merely knew the Quinns in some capacity. She’d worked with them, he’d said. Then again, nobody said more than necessary in our line of work.

Emerson hadn’t even mentioned anything to Ryan and Darius. He’d recruited Squeezy from right under their noses.

“Your recruit’s handling things well,” Hudson noted.

I scowled at him. “He’s a soldier.”

If fighting bad guys in trenches was all we did, we wouldn’t need to put our recruits through one year’s training before hiring them. Christ. Two months was evidently long enough for a grunt to sharpen his Army knowledge and become infantry once more. It didn’t fucking mean anything.

One conversation with the kid, and it was glaringly obvious that he was na?ve beyond words. He didn’t know how the world worked. He couldn’t predict things the way an operator needed to. He had so much history to memorize, so many mind-sets to adopt, and so much strategy to learn.

“You’re riding his ass pretty hard, pal,” Hudson told me pointedly. “I didn’t say he was a fine operator. But for a twentysomething-year-old with two months of training, he’s doing fucking great.”

I dropped my scowl to my food and started shoveling cold chicken stew with rice into my mouth.

Glorious.

Coach had given me a similar speech already.

I was riding Leighton hard, because he was fucking different. He had the potential to become one of our best, all while… There was something so innocently sweet about him that I feared he’d overestimate his capabilities in a moment he had no backup to rely on.

“He thinks Karl Hahn is gonna come looking for us.”

Hudson chuckled into his mug. “So he’s young and inexperienced. That’s what training’s for. Don’t tell me you knew how the underworld operated at his age.”

Fair.

I remembered thinking we’d go hunting down cartels and mafia organizations, only to realize that the worst of the worst dressed in bespoke suits and dined with world leaders. The cartels were still there. The mafia was alive and well too, albeit in a new sheep’s clothing. They operated differently nowadays. But the men who caused the most destruction ran global networks of legit corporations, and they were surprisingly easy to track, because they had lines upon lines of men who not only did the dirty work but planned most of it as well. Karl Hahn and Omar Said were untouchable.

Between the two, they also had six sons ready to take their places when they died.

Whatever. I’d prefer to think about how fucked the world was when I had a bottle of bourbon nearby.

I shoveled more food into my mouth and looked over at Leighton again.

Since Coach somehow knew about us, my days of mentoring Leighton were over. But even if Coach hadn’t known, maybe it was for the best. I couldn’t be impartial to save my life, and I wasn’t ready to acknowledge just how much that kid meant to me. Not yet. It was way too soon.

“Is he joining us tonight?” Hudson asked.

Fuck no.

Was my knee-jerk response. But…

I released a breath.

Tonight’s operation would be close combat, perfect for anyone who’d come here from a position in the infantry, something Leighton had a few years of experience in already. Coach had cleared him. Quinn and Finlay seemed to like him. Hudson was impressed. The Army had promoted him to sergeant.

How had I become the crazy one for thinking he wasn’t ready?

I didn’t believe he was ready. I really fucking didn’t.

Regardless of his job in the Army, he’d never seen combat before. Not like what we expected to face tonight. According to our intel, approximately twenty people were hiding in that bunker. Twenty men who were armed and paid to protect their merchandise.

Leighton had killed a man for the first time today, and he hadn’t begun to process it.

What would happen if we added five or six more men to that tally?

“I’ll have to talk to Coach again,” I muttered.

After rehashing our plans with Shira and doing an inventory of our manpower and ammo, I finally got a moment alone with Coach. He’d just come back from making sure the immigrants had been transported out of here.

My stomach twisted with discomfort, because at this point, Leighton was well aware that I was avoiding him. I saw it in the insecurity that bled through every time he looked my way, and it fucking hurt.

He was the eager puppy who just wanted to play, and I was the douchebag owner who left to go to work.

“How did it go?” I asked.

Coach huffed and took a swig of water. “It’s a miracle they’re still alive. At least four of them. But they’re on their way now.”

Yeah, the memory of Leighton taking care of them was fresh in my mind.

He was a fighter. Fast as shit, agile, and strong. Extremely technical but not so that it hindered him from being creative. He hadn’t lost control either. He could’ve easily killed them.

“Op’s back in your control, and we have the combat unit Shira picked out yesterday, adding me and the kid to that list. But I’m assumin’ you wanna talk about Watts,” Coach said.

I nodded with a dip of my chin. “I admit I can’t make a decision without bias. I don’t think he’s ready, and I don’t want a recruit to get hurt. No matter the NDAs and papers they sign, it’s fucking reckless to send someone so green into the field. This ain’t a drill.”

He nodded too. “Under any other circumstances, I would’ve agreed with you.”

“But you don’t now,” I stated.

He sighed and folded his arms over his chest. “We got the rare opportunity to see him in action before we had to make a decision, Bo.” He nodded at me. “Lemme put it this way instead. Say he stays back here when the rest of us enter the bunker. Will knowing he’s out here distract you on the inside? Will you worry that someone else is out here and he’s a sitting duck?”

“Oh, fuck you.” I clenched my jaw and scrubbed my hands over my face. I didn’t want that scenario tumbling around in my head too.

But actually…I had no intention of putting all my eggs into the same underground basket.

Coach chuckled. “Now I gotta ask. Are you two serious?”

I shook my head, the question alone aging me ten years. “It’s way too soon to think about that, man. You know how I am with relationships. I fuck ’em up, and…” I spotted Leighton over by the backpacks. He grabbed a bottle of water. “I don’t wanna hurt him.”

That’s what it boiled down to in the end. I never wanted to hurt that guy. I never wanted to see him sad or fraught with anxiety. Since the day we’d met six years ago, his vulnerability had affected me.

I faced Coach again. “We hooked up once . Right before I left.”

He stared at me and lifted a shoulder. “That tells me nothin’. We’ve spent two months with them—and something eventually made you cave. Right? Fuck, last I heard, you were still with Kristen.”

I made a face and looked away.

Kristen didn’t exist in my life anymore. And soon, neither would Leighton. ’Cause what if he’d heard me say that shit about us only hooking up once? Talk about downplaying a night I was never gonna forget. For the first time in my sorry goddamn life, I’d slept peacefully to the point where I’d barely moved.

I didn’t wanna be done with him.

Coach clapped me on the shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “You’ve got some shit to figure out, my man. In the meantime, he’s earned a spot on the team. Just put him in the back or something. I’ll go grab the latest from Intel.”

He walked away, and I ran a hand through my hair, knowing he was right. Leighton had earned both credit and respect, and not just from today. There was the shooting at my apartment too—and then the support he’d been to me as I’d slowly opened up about my brother’s death.

I exhaled and pinched the bridge of my nose.

This was how Leighton differed from everyone else. Had this been an ex-girlfriend—while we were dating—I would’ve ignored the problem and said shit would work out one way or another. Sometimes I accepted an assignment just so I could fuck off for a few weeks. And by the time I came home again, the previous issue would’ve been forgotten.

I didn’t wanna forget anything now. It was the opposite; I was constantly thinking back and analyzing my behavior to make sure I didn’t hurt him by being thoughtless. Well, except for when I managed to hurt him by deliberately being the dick who avoided him.

That had to stop.

Whether I liked it or not, he was part of today’s op, and he deserved a good unit commander. Not one who made him walk on eggshells.

“Recruit,” I said, nodding toward the forest on my left side. “I’d like a word.”

The instant nervousness in his expression was my fault.

“Yes, sir,” he replied.

I took the lead and walked toward the western sector, where I knew we had people on the lookout along the outer perimeter.

He trailed after me in silence.

I looked around to find a spot where we could have some privacy.

The scenery didn’t change in these woods. Maples, red oaks, and some other trees shared the forest, painting it orange this time of year. Especially now, closer to sunset.

We had about an hour’s worth of daylight left, and once I’d spoken to Leighton, it would be time to round up everyone for a strategy talk.

I came to a stop between two tall trees and looked back. Nobody could hear or see us from here.

He adjusted his helmet and stood straighter, his operator-in-training replacement for the poses drilled into his skull in the service. He still thought it felt unnatural to be so relaxed in his stance.

Time for honesty.

“I owe you an apology,” I said. His eyes flashed with surprise. “When I found out you were involved today—and trapped in that van with Coach—I almost lost my shit.” I cleared my throat and felt weirdly exposed, but he deserved to hear this. “If something happened to you, I’d never forgive myself.”

His expression softened.

“The problem is, when I worry about you, I miss out on your progress,” I went on. “I bury every accomplishment under a pile of downsides, concerns, and…whatever. I just see what you need to get better at—which, at your level, is still a lot. It is too soon for you to work in the field.” I firmly believed that. Objectively. “But, as Coach pointed out to me, we’ve had the rare opportunity to see what you can handle when shit hits the fan, and it’s more than I’ve given you credit for. So—” Fuck, this was hard. My chest felt all tight and shit. “Coach and Hudson clearly think you should be here tonight, so that’s what’s going to happen. There’s a spot for you in the unit.”

He raked his teeth across his bottom lip and tilted his head. “I’m more interested in hearing what you think.”

I drew a breath, and I…had to go with honesty here as well.

“My judgment is clouded by personal feelings I don’t know how to process yet,” I admitted. “You’ve caught me off guard here, pup.”

He did a decent job of concealing how good that felt to hear, but the slight tug of smugness at his lips gave him away.

He was fucking adorable.

“Why, Bo Beckett,” he murmured, “it almost sounds like you’re catching feelings for me. Actual, actual feelings.”

Punk-ass.

“Or the flu,” I said. “Could be the flu too.”

He smiled quickly. There one second, gone the next. “Don’t worry. I know your stance on relationships.”

No, you don’t.

I swallowed past the pressure coming up my throat. “It’s easy to swear off relationships when each one in the past was a fraud.” When every I-love-you felt like a lie, when you had to force actions… I coughed and tried to clear my mind. “I don’t feel like a fraud when I’m with you—but I can’t wrap my head around anything in my personal life when the guy who ordered my brother’s murder is half a klick that way.” I pointed toward our camp. “I hope you understand.”

I’d already killed the motherfucker who had pulled the trigger, but I wanted their leader. He had to die, and he had to suffer.

“Then that’s my priority too.” Leighton took a step forward, resolute. “I’m sorry if my being here has taken some of that focus from you. That was never my intention—and I feel shitty for throwing a pity party for myself when you avoided me. This isn’t about me at all.”

Something cracked inside me, releasing a fuck-ton of pressure, and a breath gusted out of me.

He gets me.

How did he do that? He actually understood what I was saying? He understood my position. He wasn’t trying to change the topic, and he didn’t say, “Well, if we’re doing your thing now, we have to do my thing later.” Or something like, “Okay, fine, but you better make it up to me.”

“Also, it’s not a matter of what I can handle anymore,” he went on. “You’re in charge of this operation, and what you say goes. If it will bother you or distract you in any way to have me near the bunker, I’ll opt out.” He grimaced and rubbed his forehead. “I was so eager to show you I could be of use that I forgot the whole purpose of this assignment. I’m sorry.”

The last word had barely left his mouth before I was crushing him in a hug.

He had no fucking clue how much I’d needed to hear that. Hell, I hadn’t known either.

Knowing we were safe here, I unstrapped his helmet and knocked it off, because I needed to get closer. I buried my face against his neck and screwed my eyes shut.

Leighton exhaled and slipped his arms around my neck, where he did that thing with his fingers. Fucking magic. He brushed them through my hair and scratched my scalp.

“Thank you.” I kissed his skin and lingered in the soft curve below his ear. “Thank you.” I cupped his face next and kissed him hard.

Goddamn you. I think you broke the mold.

He was something else entirely.

He smiled into the kiss and wrapped an arm around my midsection. “Isn’t it good when I say all the right things?”

“Amazing.” I matched his smile and teased the tip of his tongue with my own, and now I kinda wanted an extra few minutes. But…focus. We were losing daylight. “We’ll continue this back at Hillcroft, all right?”

He nodded and actually pinched my ass. “I had to do it. Your ass looks incredible in combat gear.”

I chuckled and shook my head. “Fuck, you make me breathe easier, kid.”

He made a noise and narrowed his eyes up at me. “I’ve grown to like pup. Stick with the classics. Or, you know, the new hit—baby. That may be a favorite.”

I grinned and spun him around. “I’ve grown to like pup too. March.”

“Aye, sir!”

On the way back, I switched on comms again and went to the main line where the perimeter watch and Coach listened in. “Slater and Green from perimeter watch, get back to camp. Briefing in ten. Out.”

Leighton turned back to me. “How many are out there? I thought we only had… Never mind. Crew and Ryan flew in too…”

I nodded. “People have been coming and going all day, but we’re at fourteen now, including you.”

I bet he was curious to find out if he was going to take an active part in this unit or not.

He’d find out soon.

Once we were back at the camp, I talked to Coach while we waited for Slater and Green to show up. For the first time today, shit was running smoothly, and things were falling into place. The Feds were waiting for our signal, ready to take care of the drug crew’s other location. Where the immigrant workers had been held. They expected minimal pushback. The other locations in Fredericksburg were cleared too, with the exception of my brother’s place. They were there now.

Sixteen drones at our disposal. I nodded and made a mental note, and Coach moved on to give me an update on the latest details they’d found for this property. Permits all in order for the bunker, but the public records—the building plans—didn’t reflect reality. Squeezy had found the electrical blueprints and plumbing plans that revealed an expansion of the bunker. In other words, they were more accurate.

“I made a rough sketch of what we think the bunker looks like.” Coach pulled out a notepad from his back pocket, and I positioned myself next to him.

This was good. The entry was along the short end of the rectangular-shaped bunker, which meant we wouldn’t be entering in the center. Going in through the center would entail splitting up to cover more angles.

Past the downhill driveway was an underground parking area; he said it was big enough for four or five vehicles. And since the vehicles had turned back earlier, we could expect them to be there. Objects to hide behind, if nothing else.

Smoke grenades were out, because they would just delay our entry without causing any problems for the enemies.

“Then we have this wall here.” He pointed at the wall I assumed separated the outdoors from the indoors. “It’s relatively thin, indicating they haven’t invested in reinforced steel doors or anything like that. We have the tools to get through the wall if we can’t shoot the hinges off the doors.”

I nodded along, eyeing what came after. The bunker was essentially one room after another, in a neat row. Three exceptions—presumably bathrooms, based on the plumbing.

There was no way of knowing how these rooms were designed—what kind of security setup they had—but we did have our experience to fall back on. Drug distribution on this scale…? If they cut the coke on-site, we could expect that to happen in the back. Storage room, area for sorting and packing…

I rubbed my forehead. “There’s no kitchen. No second exit, no chimney.” To remain under the radar, obviously. No smoke, probably bad ventilation. No building inspector would ever approve this construction, but I guessed that didn’t matter when you didn’t ask for permission. My guess? They’d had a perfectly modern, quirky, million-dollar idea at first, including more entry points and a nice kitchen. All that. They got that shit approved, and throw in some bribes, and they were free to go their own way.

“Are all walls thin?” I asked.

“Based on where the sockets are placed on the blueprints, yes,” he confirmed. “Concrete all the way through, we think , for obvious reasons since they’re underground, and no structural security.”

That settled it. I nodded and drummed my fingers over my lips. If this turned out to be true, their security came in the form of weapons.

“I don’t think interrogating the Mexicans will provide more details either,” he continued.

I agreed. They’d probably never been here. The Feds, however, would be interested in hearing what they had to say.

“Are tunnels ruled out?” I asked.

It put me on edge when others were so dumb that it was nearly impossible to underestimate them. You didn’t get rich on your drug route if you didn’t have protocols in place for when shit went sideways—like it had today. Those two street soldiers had literally guided us all the way here when they’d had Coach and Leighton in the back of that van. Any hustler worth his salt would’ve taken them someplace secluded, tried to disarm and fight them, made sure they didn’t have phones on them, and then come here. With two hostages, to boot.

Nobody was that stupid. They even knew they were dealing with Hillcroft people. Coach and Leighton had chased them all the way from our building.

“Never entirely, but considering the neighbors…” Coach glanced around us. “The area ain’t that big before civilization takes over. We have a couple family-run farms, a country club, and a gun club nearby.”

The latter was convenient. Nobody had reported gunshots here today.

“How much of the forest do the Hahns own?”

“A few acres in every direction past the clearing,” he replied. “Hold on. Last update from Hyatt.” He turned away and switched on his comms. “Say again, Hyatt.”

I headed over to the others, who were huddled around our equipment and getting some supper. Leighton too; he was preparing his MRE next to Crew and Slater.

“Fellow assholes and elbows, listen up,” I said. Everyone looked up from their meals and conversations. “After the briefing, Coach will give you a rundown of what the bunker likely looks like inside, but before then—here’s what’s up. Chances are parts of this crew are responsible for shampoo bottles needing instructions. The bunker lacks structural security, and they literally gave two of our guys a ride right up to the proverbial gate. However … Any Murphy’s Law that comes to mind?”

“Well, there are a couple about ambushes,” Ryan drawled.

I nodded. “Long story short, we have every reason to believe they’re heavily armed. If they lured us here, they’ll need the firepower to bring us down, and if they’re making up for an extreme case of stupid, same answer. They will need guns. A lot of them.” I paused. “This is the last location, operators. The Feds are waiting in the wings to cover this all up—and in the next few days, we’ll get to read in the papers how they took down a drug ring outside our fine capital.”

“The glory of the Feds!” Slater raised his water bottle.

“ Bad time to mention I’m happily married to one,” Crew said. “But in my defense, he’s retired. He’s with JATE now. Okay? Moving on. Why are you lookin’ at me?”

Uh.

Ryan smacked him upside the head. “Quit thinkin’ with your mouth.”

“ Harsh , Gramps.” Crew scowled and rubbed his head.

Right. I moved on. “I have a great segue for this. When Crew Finlay isn’t rambling about his husband, he’s working hard to maintain his reputation as one of JATE’s finest, which is why he’s with us now. You’ll find our recon Marine up front with Coach and me tonight in the Alpha line of defense. More than that, he brought new top-of-the-line headsets for us so we can stop worrying about batteries in the middle of combat. How JATE’s order was prioritized over Hillcroft’s is beyond me, but whatever.”

“Happy to help,” Crew replied. “Also, I think our order arrived first because your supply department is evidently slower than our guy.” He pointed to himself. “I’m hella fast.”

“Of that, I have no doubt,” I replied. “Mov?—”

“By the way,” Crew added, clearly not done, “it’s not the end of the world to use regular earpieces. Worked just fine for us in Colombia.”

Was he joking?

Coach gave him a look that asked the same question. “You and Hayward couldn’t hear for hours after the shootout in the tunnels.”

Goddamn tunnels. They better not have them here.

“Special circumstances!” Crew protested.

“It’s really not,” I stated. “We’ll be in a confined space tonight too. Moving on .” I turned to Quinn and Hudson next. “Our snipers—you’re our second line, Bravo. This is close-range, goes without saying, and your top two priorities are backup and taking out any surveillance.” Then we had the two Juniors and Leighton. “Recruit Watts, you’ll be flanked by Max and JJ in the third line, Charlie, and last but not least, covering our backs in Delta are Slater and Green.” I gestured at Hudson. “Those with only a sidearm can go see Operator Hudson. You’ll need more than that. Did we find an extra helmet for my pretty head?”

“Yessir,” Max responded.

“Good.” I nodded. “As mentioned before, we’re expecting heavy resistance from approximately twenty enemies. Shoot to kill. This op should be over within five to ten minutes from the moment we enter. Alpha shoots first and goes deep, Bravo has their own orders, and Charlie and Delta do not interfere unless we need it—you know the signal. Keep your shit cool—I don’t wanna get shot in the back because Slater caught someone rounding a quick corner.”

“It happened once ,” he growled. “And nobody got shot!”

It’d been damn close.

I continued. “What do we do with enemy ass?”

“Double tap it!” The Juniors were first on that one.

“ Always ,” I emphasized. “As you’ll see on the map later, the bunker is set up like a neat row of rooms, one after another. Coach, Finlay, and I will aim for the far end and take down everyone we can in the way. But it’s a big place?—”

“How big?” Leighton blurted out. “Roughly. In football fields.”

“Everything should be measured in football fields,” Max agreed.

I sucked my teeth. “It’s about fifty yards long and three hundred of your favorite flavor crayon wide.”

“What the—” Leighton widened his eyes. “I’m not a Marine!”

“Hey.” Ryan gave him a look. “We’re family. You’re supposed to be nice.”

“We’re not family, but you should be nice to me too,” Crew told him. “I gave you a protein bar.”

I suppressed a sigh. “Can everyone shut the fuck up and save questions for the end? It’s like you’re trying to outrun your intelligence. Christ.” I cleared my throat. “The bunker is fifteen yards wide. All right?”

I had to cool it. I worked with countless people who dicked around until the very last second, and there was nothing wrong with that. They were skilled enough to multitask. I just wasn’t used to a large op like this one. I preferred to work alone or with one or two other guys.

“Sir, do you want me to run my safety procedure spiel while you get some water?” Green asked me.

Brilliant idea. I nodded and took a step back. “Listen to Green. She will inform you how to proceed in the event we encounter explosives, toxic agents, or, you know, hostages. And Watts, you might wanna get a refresher on communication and signals from Quinn.”