“Hooyah,” Dolphin said quietly.
Steele looked like he wanted to hit somebody. Cole stared challengingly at him because right now he’d love a good fight. Steele was rattled, and he didn’t often get rattled, but Cole didn’t give a shit.
“Her last team did the same goddamn thing we’re doing,” Cole said in disgust. He shouldn’t break P.J.’s confidence. She’d opened up to him when she hadn’t opened up to anyone else. But right now he’d fight dirty if that’s what it took. Steele and the others needed to know what they were dealing with.
“You talking about S.W.A.T.?” Renshaw asked.
“Yeah. She walked away because they hung her out to dry. She did the right thing and turned in a dirty cop. They turned on her and made her look like a vindictive ex-lover out for revenge. Not one of them fought for her. Over my dead body is that going to happen this time. We’re fighting for her. She deserves that much.”
“I’m with Cole on this one,” Baker said in a low voice.
“Me too,” Dolphin said.
“And me,” Renshaw echoed. “She’s one of us. When she goes down, we go down. We’re not picking up and moving on without her.”
“Hell no,” Cole snarled.
Cole stared at Steele for a long time before finally turning away. “I’m going to be gone. If you need me, I’ll have my cell.”
Then he turned back to Steele once more when he reached the doorway.
“Consider this my request for vacation time.”
CHAPTER 18
SIX MONTHS LATER . . .
COLE stepped out of his truck and inhaled the crisp air, trying to shake some of the fog from his mind. Steele had called him and tersely told him to report to the KGI compound. He hadn’t waited for confirmation. He’d just issued the order and hung up.
Given what little Cole had given his team since P.J.’s disappearance, Cole was surprised Steele bothered. He was even more surprised that he found himself here.
Cole had spent the winter alternating between searching for leads on P.J. and secluding himself at his home in Camden, just a short distance from the KGI compound.
P.J. had vanished. It frustrated him to no end. He’d spent a lot of time canvassing her neighborhood, talking to people about her. The problem was, no one really knew her. The bartender and waitress at the pub where he’d gone to see her that first night said she had been a regular but kept to herself and never talked to other customers.
Cole had even gone so far as to see the commander of her S.W.A.T. unit. It had taken all he had not to lose his temper and get some payback on P.J.’s behalf, but getting information had been more important than his fury over her betrayal.
It had been like hitting a brick wall, though. At the mention of P.J.’s name, the commander had clammed up and refused to discuss anything having to do with her. Cole told the asshole what he thought about him and his team of dickheads before taking his leave.
Six months of no sleep and endless frustration were catching up hard with him. He walked to the entrance to the war room, punched in the pass code and then entered. As he walked down the short corridor into the main room, he rubbed at his eyes and then scuffed a hand over his short-cut hair in an effort to look somewhat presentable.
Everyone was present and accounted for, which meant Cole was late. Not that he gave a shit. He grunted in the general direction of his teammates and slouched into a chair.
“Glad you could make it,” Steele said, a hint of anger in his voice.
“You said it was important. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here at all,” Cole snapped.
He glanced around, frowning as he noticed new faces. There was a guy standing close to Swanny and Joe, arms crossed, his stance stiff, like he was expecting a fight at any time. He was about Garrett’s size with tattoos running up both arms, disappearing behind the short sleeves of his T-shirt.
He looked like he’d been in a few too many bar fights. Cole pegged him as a boxer or perhaps a mixed martial arts fighter because he had the telltale beginnings of the cauliflower ears and his nose looked like it had been broken at least once.
Cole tensed when he noticed the female standing between Nathan and Swanny. She was about P.J.’s size but with honey blond hair and deep blue eyes. She looked young. Far too young to be working on a mercenary team.
Then he was struck by a terrible thought. His stomach churned and a knot formed in his gut.
What if they’d called him in to announce that they’d hired someone to fill P.J.’s position on the team? What if this was some stupid meet and greet? A “let’s make the new recruit feel welcome.” Bullshit. He wasn’t going there.