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After passing an emotionally charged buildup between Skull and Hummingbird, Boomer breathed a sigh of relief, the echo of recent chaos still humming in his veins.

“Good job, you two,” Iceman said. “That was a tight ask, but I’m glad you got there in time. She’s a valuable, if somewhat unpredictable, CIA asset.” That was an understatement. Strekoza refused to back down or give an inch. Between him and GQ, their level of respect for the woman rose quite a few notches.

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Boomer was ever so slightly ill at ease with Ice’s praise. He’d done his job, nothing more, nothing less. SEALs watched out for each other, protected their own. It was the bond that had held him and his teammates together through firefights, endless drills, and long deployments. A brotherhood forged in sweat and gunpowder.

Iceman’s praise for their timely save of Strekoza sat heavy on him. It had gotten intense there for a little bit with all that flying lead, the precarious rooftop scramble, ending with them demolishing a technical, and a vehicle chase and interdiction that had netted them their prize.

“Boomer?” Strekoza approached him, limping faintly, a ragged tear at her shoulder with blood staining the dark fibers. Boomer had dragged her clear of danger, and the adrenaline rush was still jacking him up a bit, pumped for the encounters and the victory of getting their HVT. He never felt more focused than in those moments of imminent danger.

She approached him, her big eyes shining with gratitude. Before he could offer some gruff reassurance, she threw her arms around him in an impulsive hug. Warmth flooded through him, and for a split second he was confused. This wasn’t his usual territory. Emotions ran deep for him, sometimes more than he’d like to admit, but physical affection beyond the camaraderie of a well-earned fist bump or a pat on the back was something else entirely.

“Thank you,” Strekoza said softly, her voice tight with relief. “You saved my life back there.” Her hair smelled faintly of salt and steel. Boomer stiffened, confusion surging through him like a jolt of electricity. The affection felt alien, almost undeserved. All he’d done was the right thing. Nothing special. He was just doing what his training, his brothers had always taught him to do.

A strange, bashful pride nudged at his ribs as he tried to find the right words. “I—uh—” He glanced down at her, clearing his throat. “That’s what I do…what we do,” he corrected, thinking of his SEAL brothers. No matter the situation, each one was ready to protect the other, no questions asked. That ironclad bond would always be with him. Once a SEAL, always a SEAL, and he had extended it automatically to her.

Memories of his old team flickered through his mind. The endless nights in desert outposts, hoarse laughter shared around the glow of a dying campfire, the silent but unbreakable tether between men who had each other’s lives in their palms. The sense of belonging, the fierce loyalty, was as natural to him as breathing. And he remembered the losses, one in particular that still hung heavy on him no matter how he tried to let it go, let himself heal.

“Uh…” His hands hovered awkwardly, as though he was not entirely sure where to put them. “You can count on us,” he muttered.

“I see that, and I know what Skull and Bones did for Hummingbird. You’re all a bunch of heroes…even Severus.” She smiled.

His gaze flicked over Strekoza’s shoulder and landed on Taylor Hoffman. She stood in front of the mess hall just about to enter, her expression at first unreadable. She was solid, responsible, always vigilant, always prepared, and so beautiful she took his breath away. And still miles out of his league. He thought she had been clear on the plane, but now he wasn’t so sure. Because something flickered across her face as she took in Strekoza’s embrace. It wasn’t anger, maybe confusion, perhaps surprise, or something else he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

It was gone almost as quickly as he registered it, but the spark fried his brain, that look lingering in his jumbled thoughts.

When Strekoza released him, stepping back, Boomer found himself suddenly aware of the space between them, keenly aware of Taylor looking on. The echo of the impulsive hug filled his chest, the warmth of her arms around him lingering. A wave of self-consciousness rolled over him. He pressed his lips together, glancing at Taylor again to gauge her reaction. Boomer exhaled in a rush he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

His chest tightened and he called himself all kinds of a fool. It was his wishful thinking. She was everything confident and sure, while he rode an undercurrent of unresolved emotions stemming from his divorce that often made him feel unsteady.

For an instant, their eyes locked. Her lips parted, as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t quite form the words. He wondered what exactly she was thinking, if she was relieved that Strekoza was okay, or if she was confused by the embrace, or perhaps something more layered than that.

Boomer swallowed hard. His heart thudded, the echo of that tight-knit SEAL bond pushing him to speak. Yet all he managed was a few quiet words, directed partly at Strekoza and partly at Taylor, “Just doing what’s right. That’s all.”

He hoped, maybe in vain, that the simple statement would bridge the sudden swirl of emotion in the air. And as he stood there, his mind fluttered between pride, confusion, and the faint spark of hope that Taylor might see him, truly see him, as more than just a man.

For a moment, she simply eyed them both, hands folded protectively in front of her as though she couldn’t decide what to do next. The cautiousness in her stance reminded him just how vigilant she could be, like she was reading the situation for signs of hidden danger. Then her gaze caught his, and her features softened, just a fraction.

Boomer swallowed. All his protective instincts, his devotion to his team, his natural empathy for others, the brotherhood that pulsed like a second heartbeat, collided with that ever-present awareness of Taylor. She was the one he admired, maybe even cared for more than he cared to say out loud. Now, she’d seen Strekoza hugging him, and he wasn’t sure if he had just crossed an invisible boundary.

“Everything okay?” he finally managed, his voice low and uncertain.

Taylor offered a small nod, a trace of something unreadable still in her eyes. “Yeah,” she replied, a guarded edge to her tone. “Everything’s fine.”

He couldn’t tell if “fine” was truly fine or the opposite. But he’d stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the toughest men on earth, faced down firefights in the dead of night. So why did this slight, ambiguous look from Taylor disarm him more than any enemy had before?

He let out a breath and attempted a small smile, forcing down the swirl of confusion. SEALs always had each other’s backs and that would never change. But sometimes, what you protected most was your own heart. And Boomer, for all the dangers he’d faced, wasn’t quite sure how to defend against the conflicting feelings sparked by two very different women, one who’d nearly lost her life and one who just might change his forever.

Walker’s knee-jerk reaction was to deny that any of them had control over her, but her conscience kicked in. It was dawning on her that going it alone put her, Skull, and Bones in additional danger, and she had to include Strekoza in that mix. Her partner almost died because of her impulsive action. They both had been in over their heads, and if it wasn’t for Skull’s quick action in sending Bones her way, she might not be standing here right now. Boomer and GQ had rescued Eva, and she was so grateful for that. But even in all that chaos, she had to acknowledge how Bones and Skull worked seamlessly together, as had the whole team. Iceman had been making those decisions on the fly and in the face of her rash impulse, and he had not only saved them both, but covered them at crucial times for this mission to be a success.

She turned away from him as his cell buzzed. He looked down at his phone and his face stiffened with alarm. She wanted to ask him what was wrong but was unable to process everything that had just happened. She opened her mouth anyway, but he said gruffly, “I have to take this. We’ll talk more later.” He gently cupped her face for a brief moment, his eyes hooded… Was that pain she saw…? Maybe a little bit of fear?

Once he disappeared down the hall, Walker just stood there, her heart clamoring for information. Why was there such a look on his face, and why was she caring way more than she should?

Walker lingered in the hallway, silent and still, her gaze fixed on the polished floor. She relied heavily on her keen intellect and introspective nature, the hallmarks of her analytical mind. Right now, every bit of her mental energy was caught in a loop, replaying the moment when Skull and Bones had saved her life. She had always prided herself on keeping things strictly physical, a neat strategy to avoid feeling exposed. Emotions, after all, were intangible and unpredictable, and for someone who valued knowledge, control, and personal space, they were far too complicated.

Yet here she was, processing an upwelling of affection she hadn’t anticipated. She couldn’t help analyzing her reaction, and that stutter in her heartbeat was all new as she remembered Skull’s fierce determination, his anger at her actions, an anger stemming from his fear for her safety, the subtle tenderness in his eyes just now. Did she truly intend to ignore the strength of their connection? Walker had wanted to remain self-reliant, to keep her emotions under lock and key. But when they risked everything to ensure her safety and the success of the mission, bagging their HVT with unfailing determination even in the face of tough odds, she had found herself shaken.

She leaned against the wall, arms folded. A few passersby on their way to the mess hall offered polite nods, but no one disturbed her. She gave off vibes that she needed her space, especially when she scowled at them. The wheels in her mind turned ceaselessly, weighing pros and cons, assessing every angle like a well-trained operative scanning a terrain map.

Another of her knee-jerk tendencies usually compelled her to retreat inward, to seek out more data and fewer variables. But now, the facts and figures she cherished so much weren’t enough to quell this uncertain feeling. She understood what a purely physical connection looked like—practical, minimal complications—but it had always been something of a fortress, a way to protect herself from the emotional storms that could tear down her carefully constructed barriers.

And now those walls had begun to crack, not under the weight of logic but a mad, crazy kind of feeling that was akin to that storm that was battering her walls. It felt disconcerting—and thrilling. Her immediate instinct was to retreat, to gather all the facts before making any move or revealing any vulnerability. Yet there was also a new thought stirring, an unexpected whisper reminding her that maybe some risks were worth taking.

She inhaled, steeling herself in that quiet corridor. If Skull had the capacity to make her feel safe, physically and emotionally, perhaps it was time to loosen her guard, if only by a fraction. She grudgingly acknowledged that growth often demanded stepping beyond the bounds of self-imposed isolation. That meant testing uncharted territory. It meant trusting someone else enough to let them see more than just her competence and cleverness. Project that siren, femme fatale persona to seduce and manipulate to the best of her advantage, to protect her heart. But in this instance, manipulating Skull would be futile. He either saw through her machinations or walked all over her intentions. He was more than a juggernaut. He was a sexy, no holds barred, down and dirty, challenging warrior.

So, she decided. She wouldn’t dive headlong into all that morass of jumbly, tangled shit inside her head. Far too risky, not her style. But she also wouldn’t bolt for the nearest exit. She’d let herself feel just a little more, see where the path led. Quietly, Walker decided that there was no perfect plan here, no foolproof data set. All she had was the awareness that she was no longer indifferent, that Skull had become more important than she had ever planned.

With that slight but meaningful shift, she pushed off from the wall and started down the hall, head held high. Let the uncertain feelings remain for now. She would continue to examine them carefully and methodically, but she would not immediately run from them. For the first time in a very long while, Walker felt she could be both rational and open to something beyond logic. And that was a surprising, quietly monumental step forward for her.

Her love life aside, there was a more pressing matter, and even though she was exhausted, battered, bruised and twisted up inside from Skull and her feelings for him, she still had a job to do. They had Blade and she wasn’t going to wait a moment to interrogate him. She went to the armory and stored all her weapons, removed her suit, and changed into jeans and a white tank top. Sending her hands through her tousled hair, she walked to the exit, slipped out the door and headed for the containment area. Sliding between the two burly Marines guarding a door, she went inside and walked down the hall, stopping at a door when she heard Anna’s voice.

Of course she was already at it. Before she could knock, Anna pulled the door open with an exasperated look on her face, closing it with a determined click.

She huffed out a breath. “He won’t talk.”

“I have an idea. What do you know about him?”

Fifteen minutes later, fortified with a file folder and a deep determination to get the information she was after, Walker strode into the small room. Blade turned to look at her, his eyes narrowed, recognizing her as one of the operators who had taken him down. For a moment, his eyes flicked behind her fearfully, as if he was looking for Bones. Hmm, she’d tuck that away as something she could use if this ploy didn’t work.

She watched Blade from across the small table, setting down the folder. He sat shackled to a shank in the middle of the table, his wrists raw from the cuffs. Sweat slicked his skin despite the cool air conditioning humming overhead, the injuries on his forearm decidedly fang induced were starting to close over. His dark eyes held hers with defiance, lips set in a tight line. He hadn’t spoken in all the time he’d been in their custody. Not after they’d dragged him from the chopper, not after they’d processed him, not after the first round of questioning.

But that didn’t matter. She had time. He didn’t.

“You know what your boss does to people who disappoint her,” she said, her voice calm, almost conversational. “You disappear. You don’t get a second chance.”

Blade scoffed. “And you think you’re any different?”

Walker leaned forward, resting her hands on the metal table between them. “Yes.” She let the silence settle before continuing. “Because I can get your family out before she does something brutally tragic.”

That made him blink. Just once. But it was enough.

“You think she won’t go after them the second she finds out you’re missing?” she pressed. “You have a wife. Two kids.” She opened the folder and set out three photos. His wife Lupe, a dark-haired beauty with fine brown eyes like the salt of the earth, delicate features, and a winsome smile, but there was something else in those disarming eyes—steel. The second picture was of a little boy of about six, his smile was all his mother’s, but he’d inherited his father’s good looks, the high cheekbones, and blue eyes. The last photo even melted Walker’s hard heart. A little girl, so cute with her gap-toothed smile and the charming tilt of her head. The dark pigtails had pink ribbons tied on the ends. She was simply adorable, and the inevitability of what was going to happen to her twisted Walker’s gut into knots.

“I’m sure Lupe is smart.” Walker tapped his wife’s photo. “But smart isn’t enough when you’re on Pincho’s bad side.” She then tapped the little boy’s and the girl’s photos in turn. “Ramon and Musica don’t stand a chance against Pincho’s death squad, and we both know that she will be sending them into Lealtad once she hears you’re missing.”

His jaw tightened, his gaze flickering downward for a fraction of a second, looking at the photos, the heartbreak, the horrible decision mirrored in his eyes. It was clear he loved his family, and that was going to be the linchpin Walker and the team needed to flip him, to get to Hazard and Leigh before it was too late for them as well. The first crack in the armor.

“We can protect them,” she said. “New names. New lives. They’ll never have to look over their shoulders again.”

Blade exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “No.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I don’t believe in anyone,” he muttered. “Especially not the CIA.”

Walker sighed, pacing to the other side of the table. She crouched beside his chair, lowering her voice. “You don’t have to trust me. But I’m the only shot they’ve got. You talk, and they walk away from this. You keep playing tough, and your boss makes an example of them.”

Another silence. This one stretched longer. He swallowed, tension visible in every muscle of his body as he squeezed his eyes closed, a soft, mournful sound releasing in his throat.

Blade’s eyes burned with defiance when he opened them, but there was something else in them now, a flicker of fear he was trying to bury under the weight of his pride. He wasn’t an easy break. That was expected. The ones at his level never were. But everyone had a threshold, and Walker was patient enough to find his.

Finally, he spoke. “I’ll talk.” His voice was low, reluctant.

Walker stood, arms loose at her sides. “Good.” She went back to her chair opposite him and sat down, resting her elbows on the table.

“But not until they’re out.” He lifted his head, eyes locking onto hers with a desperate, steely intensity. “Not until I know they’re safe.”

“That’s another roadblock, Blade, and you’re running out of options.” Her voice was steady, almost gentle, but there was no warmth in it.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, staring at the tabletop. “I told you. I don’t talk until they’re safe.”

“And I told you, that’s not how this works.” Hummingbird leaned forward, hands clasped together. “You don’t get to dictate terms.”

Blade clenched his jaw, shaking his head. “You expect me to just take your word for it?” He scoffed, lifting his gaze to hers. “You expect me to believe that you, the CIA, actually care about what happens to them?”

Walker tilted her head slightly, studying him. “I don’t need you to believe anything. I just need you to understand reality.” She let a long pause stretch between them before continuing. “You think you’re protecting them by holding out?” she asked. “By resisting? You’re not.” She let the words sink in, watching as his fingers twitched against the cuffs. “All you’re doing is making sure they stay right where they are—exposed, vulnerable, waiting for your boss to realize you’re not coming back.”

Blade’s breathing had changed, just slightly, but she noticed. He was thinking about it now, really thinking about it.

“You know how this plays out,” she pressed. “Pincho won’t wait long. she’ll send her men to Lealtad. And when they don’t find you, what do you think happens next?”

Blade didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

Walker leaned back in her chair, keeping her expression unreadable. “You hold out, and they never leave. You resist, and you doom them to whatever comes next. And for what?” She shook her head. “To prove a point?”

Blade’s fingers curled into fists. His breathing was heavier now.

She stood slowly, taking her time as she circled the table, stopping behind him. Her voice dropped to something softer, more insidious. “You want to be the reason they don’t make it out? You know what Pincho will do to them, don’t you? Picture that in your mind.”

His entire body went rigid. She could feel the war raging inside him, the stubbornness crashing against the truth he didn’t want to face.

She placed a hand on the back of his chair and bent slightly, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re running out of time. Make your choice. Your family and a new life to live free and safe from repercussions. I’d say the choice has already been made.”

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of the overhead ventilation and the distant hum of activity outside the room. Then, slowly, Blade exhaled.

His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. “Get them out first, and I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

Walker straightened, watching the weight of his decision settle on him.

She let the silence linger, then nodded.

She took a piece of paper out of the folder. “Draw me a map to the fastest route in and out of your residence. Make it quick. We’re running out of time for both our people.”

He drew quickly, then slid the map back to her. “You are attached to these people Lucia has?”

Now it was Walker’s turn to keep herself in check. She wanted to jump across the table and throttle him, but she had to tamp down her impulse. She wasn’t one to give into impulse, not even the choice to chase him through Lealtad. That had been a solid, reasonable decision she could back up with logic. Her lips thinned, and she gave him a curt nod. But these feelings that coursed through her right now, her fear for Leigh and Hazard overwhelmed her for a moment, the thought of them losing their lives for doing the kind of job that was impossible, losing the love they had found between them, something Walker had secretly coveted, trying to rationalize it all, and trying to keep her emotions under wraps while they were living on borrowed time. It tore her up.

“Then I feel sorry for you,” his voice softened for just a fraction, then hardened again. “Pincho will kill them the moment she finds out that I’m gone.” He looked away, then back at her, his eyes full of regrets. “I had no choice in this life. You saw Lealtad. We grew up with the cartel running everything, including recruiting gangs to carry out their business and their orders.” He exhaled harshly, the cuffs rattling with a metallic clank. “The gang serves her, and she is ruthless as I’m sure you already know.” His voice dropped into an urgent hush. “She will wait until the time my family is supposed to be murdered by her thugs, and that is your only window of opportunity. Bring them to me as quickly as you can.”

“We will,” she promised, her voice as urgent and harsh as his had been. “No one will stand in our way. Your family is as good as here.” She tilted her head, studying him. The weight of the mission now settled on her shoulders. There was no way around it. They were going back to that death trap. As she picked up the photos of Blade’s family, his wife’s eyes, his son’s smile, and his daughter’s adorable face lingered in her mind.

Walker sighed, rubbing a hand over her face as he gave her a hopeful, slow nod.

“If these people survive, I believe it will be because of you, CIA. I hope they are worthy of your sacrifices.”

Walker wasted no more time. Exiting the room on the run, she headed for Anna and Iceman. She found them in the briefing room. She laid out the information, indicating that it would be best if she went alone. Iceman opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “With Skull and Bones. We can be in and out in a jiff, and the dog will be invaluable for sniffing out danger.”

Iceman looked at Anna. “I trust her judgment. Hummingbird never does anything irrational, at least in her mind. I think she proved herself, even though she didn’t ask permission.” Anna winced. “So not her style. She understands the situation now, right?”

Walker nodded. “Yes. I got it. He’s the boss.”

Iceman’s pale blue eyes, so like a winter’s icy sky, raked over her. “You two did make a good team. All right, we’ll get this going. We should be ready to assault in an hour. Why don’t you get cleaned up and get some food? You’re going to need it. Then get geared up, and meet us in the briefing room.” He looked at his watch. “We need to run this by the brass and the CIA.” He gave her a smart-ass smile. “Even I need to get permission.”

Anna smirked and Walker grinned. “I’d like to see someone chew your ass. They’d break their teeth on all that ice.”

He huffed out a hard laugh, then his face went serious. “I want to get back into Lealtad before sunrise, so we’ll need to move as quickly as possible. We all know Pincho will.”

Walker nodded, her blood going cold. That was the only definite in this whole rapid decision. She headed for the mess hall.