Page 127 of Stealth Mission

“You have no fucking idea. Now let’s go. I’ve got work to do.”

Chapter Forty-Six

I’ve never seen so many people in my kitchen. Not even when all the farm workers my grandfather used to have would come for coffee in the morning.

And back then, it definitely didn’t look like a staging ground for a SEAL team raid.

Blinking, I consider running back in the bedroom and crawling in bed where I can hide under the blanket and pretend none of this is happening. Then I see the photo on the wall. One I look at every morning, but this morning it nearly knocks me over.

My mother is in the center of the frame, leaning against a fence. Dusty jeans and work boots. Plaid shirt with the sleeves removed, showing off her golden-brown skin. Her long dark braid hanging over her shoulder.

She was my age now.

The smile on her face looks genuine even though she was living through hell. She never quit. Never laid in bed hiding. She did her best every day even though she was living with a monster.

My lip starts to tremble so I clamp it between my teeth.

I’m made of the same thing she was. The women in this family bend. We don’t break.

Someone touches my shoulder, making me startle. Scout is looking down at me from below a baseball cap that shadows his face. “I know this seems like a lot, and the night is only going to get more intense, but you're in good hands.”

“I know. Thanks for coming. I don’t know how you got here so fast, but I appreciate it.”

He nods. “That’s what teammates do. Evan texted. Here I am.”

A pang of jealousy sticks in my throat. What it must be like to have friends and teammates that have your back. Always.“I’m glad you were still in Karma.”

“I didn’t want to go too far.”

“You bothering her?” Evan is suddenly at my elbow, looking big and mean.

“Reassuring her.”

Scout extends his hand. Without saying a word, Evan shakes it.

Then Evan kisses my temple before he walks away. Heading toward Vik and his men where they’re clustered together at the far end of the kitchen, talking in whatever language they speak.

Things speed up then. The voices grow louder. Men start to move.

Scout tosses Evan some clothing. Black. Every bit of it.

After digging in his cargo pocket, Scout hands me a flat plastic case that looks like a box for a deck of cards. “Put this on your face. Hurry.”

I jog off and proceed to make a big mess of the bathroom. And my face.

When I skid back into the kitchen all heads turn my way. I point at my face. “Is this okay?”

Someone chuckles.

Evan’s mouth is open a little bit. It transforms to a grin. He shakes his head and holds his hand out to me. “Better than good.”

I put my hands on my hips. “What? Why are you laughing?”

He chuckles. “You didn’t hold back.”

I make a face at him. “Nobody told me what to do. Did I do it wrong? ”

“How much did you use?”