Page 2 of Secret Mission

“Time to dive. Let’s get this done.” Beast circles his finger in the air as he lifts his dive tanks. “Rain’s getting worse. This cave will only get more treacherous. We don’t leave until we know there’s nothing else in there … including MZ’s body.”

MZ… code name for our missing woman.

Allison.

Hell, if the guy had even used that, I’d have felt better than him spouting his fucking mouth about dead girls.

I scrub at the back of my neck, an acute ache pulsing there.

I’m a pressure cooker.

Watching the team prepare to go into the cave twists another kind of blade into me.

The wound on my calf throbs as a reminder that I’m only a week out from being in a stateside hospital, getting my veins pumped with antibiotics.

Justice, one of my teammates, steps under the temporary canopy as he finishes putting on his wetsuit.

“I wish I hadn’t seen those shoes.” He flashes a tight glance toward me. “That gave me the willies.”

“No shit. I hate recovery dives.”

We all do.

As a team of former SEALs, we’ve all done them.

Now rescue is our business. Recovery is an unfortunate part of it.

The shoes are just one more clue that we need to follow.

I’d do it in a minute if I could, but I’ve been sidelined from diving today.

And Beast’s word is law for those of us on Team Falcon.

Justice gives me another inspecting glance as he twists his shoulders into his neoprene dive suit. “You good?”

“Right as rain.”

He snorts and gives a quick, very uncharacteristic frown. “You’re full of shit.”

Truth—I’m fucked.But he doesn’t need that on his mind.

Allison’s case has opened a gash the size of the Grand Canyon, and I had plenty of days during treatment for my injury to think about it.

Not that I had to think much. One look at the photo in her case file when our team was hired, and I was knocked on my ass.

“We’re going to talk later.” He thumps my shoulder. “Hold down the fort while we’re in there.”

“Copy that. Get it done.”

He walks away, leaving me to wait.

Scrubbing my jaw, I blow out a slow breath that leaves cuts inside me in its wake.

Get your shit together, Truck.

I grab some of the other dive equipment and move it closer to the edge of the water.

Proving my point that I’m distracted, my boot slips on the muddy ground.