Page 15 of Covert Mission
I stiffen.
No.
Hell. No.
All eyes are on me.Fuck.
My brand-new team is waiting for my word. I don’t want to go there and override a suggestion. I trust my men. They didn’t earn their place at Agile and on Team Falcon without proving their metal.
A rumbled question comes out of me. “What is FamFind?”
I might not know what they are, but the logo is burned into my brain. Thanks to a pair of very pert breasts with little pebbled nipples.
My body temperature goes up so high, I have to clear my throat.
I will not think about how she felt pressed against my chest. Nope, not thinking about biting one of those little pearl nipples.
Scout watches my distress and tilts his head. “They go into disaster areas and help families find lost loved ones. My understanding is they operate a communications command center and track people that have been displaced, basically providing a central hub for information.”
Damn. I fist my hair and give it a hard tug.
What are the odds?
The woman couldn’t be here handing out food. Or… anything else. She finds missing people.
“Hm.” I shift and rub the back of my neck.
I want ZERO reasons to work with their group.
Evan’s still frowning as he watches the FamFind group. “There’s still one problem with that. They don’t have any security.”
My temper flares until my ears are ringing. “What the hell is a company like that thinking sending a bunch of… whatevers into a dangerous area like this without backup?”
Silence. No one on the team says anything. We all know that people in high places make decisions that put their workers in danger all the time.
Scout adjusts his hat again. That’s how he thinks. It’s also how he gets ready to debate. And wins. The man always wins a fucking debate.
I brace myself.
He smiles amicably. “We could get them set up, one of us could take guard, and the rest of us could begin to canvas the village for the missing woman. Whoever stays with them could brief them on our missing subject, and they can add her to their missing person’s database. It expands our reach.”
One ofusguard them?
I’m stuck on this. All the other words got garbled.
The protest comes off my tongue with barbs. “Not in our job description.”
But my brain turns into a web of pros and cons. The cons take up ninety-nine percent of the space.
Evan is looking at Scout nodding. “Could work. They’d be four more people to try to help us collect information, and given that they’re used to looking for missing?—”
A twinge hits my gut. It always warns me when disaster is on the horizon. Like clockwork.
“I don’t like it. She’s trouble.”
Evan, Scout, and Truck all give me blank expressions. Practiced blank expressions, I might add.
Something’s not right. I know that look because I’ve schooled my face into the same stoney façade a million times.