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Tough Enough(90)

By:M. Leighton


I cross to them, looking first at his companion. “Muse. It’s nice to see you again.” She returns my smile and I lean down to kiss her cheek. Seems like the right thing to do. She is the Colonel’s daughter after all.

“Rogan, right?”

I poke my elbow in Jasper’s ribs. “See? I told you I was unforgettable.”

His smile is barely there. As always. But that doesn’t surprise me. What surprises me is the way he looks at Muse.

“She’s heard me talk about you enough.”

I back up, nodding. Understanding. “So, it’s like that.”

He nods once. “It’s like that.”

I examine him a little more closely. Under the dark look of whatever brought him here today, I see subtle differences. Good differences. “I’ll be damned. You’re in love with her.”

This time Jasper actually laughs. It’s a sound I’m not sure I’ve ever heard before. He really has changed.

“It’s a good thing she already knew that or I’d kick your ass for telling her.”

“You sly bastard! Congrats, man!” I pull him in for a dude’s hug and slap him on the back. When I lean away, I can see that what I’m seeing on him is happiness.

And I’m envious as hell.

“Thanks. I wish that was the only reason I was here.”

Right to the point. Just like Jasper.

“Let’s go into the study,” I tell him. I glance at Muse. “Kurt’ll get you something to drink, Muse, but feel free to make yourself at home.”

The grin she gives me tells me that she probably wasn’t planning on sitting this one out. But she nods at me and winks at Jasper, which assures me that she’s okay with it, though.

“This way,” I tell Jasper, starting off back toward the foyer. As I pass the door, I see another car pull up, some anonymous dark blue sedan. “Who the hell is this?”

I feel like I’m asking that too often today. But then I see my other buddy, Tag, get out and start up the drive. I glance back at Jasper. He’s watching me. He doesn’t say a word. But then again, he doesn’t have to. The only reason we’d all be here is the same reason we were all at the Colonel’s safe house.

Reid Sheridan.

The fourth one of us. The one who was killed. The first of us to be betrayed.

I open the door for Tag. He comes in. He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He knows why we’re here. This is serious shit. We didn’t dick around on our missions. We took out terrorists. We neutralized threats. We took lives. We assassinated leaders. But for the right reasons. On orders from our government. Not like what happened to Reid. He was targeted. Betrayed. Sold out.

“Don’t you shower anymore, brother?” Tag asks.

I take in his expensive shirt and slacks. “You afraid I’ll wrinkle you, ya pussy?”

We hug and then he and Jasper shake hands before we all three head for the study.

When the door is closed, I lean up against one side of the desk, Tag against the other, and we both face Jasper. He wastes no time. “The Colonel got a name. He found out who’s behind Operation Napalm.”

A name. Finally. The person responsible for the death of Reid. The person responsible for the death of Jasper’s mother. The person responsible for putting our team in the crosshairs.

That’s why I couldn’t reach the Colonel. Seems he was busy uncovering a dirtbag.

“Who? Who is it?”

Jasper glances at Tag and then looks long and hard at me. “Senator Sims.”

Holy. Hell.

No one says anything for a few seconds. We all know who he is. And I guess it makes sense. He knew us. Knew all about us. He would be one of the few people who could manipulate us fairly easily. Mislead us. Set us up.

His committee is the only one that knew about us, the one that authorized our missions. Black Ops shit. High risk. Highly classified. Ugly business. Things that had to be done, things no one else wanted to do.

I’m probably the only one who knows what he’s like in real life, though, Senator Sims. The only one who knows how much of his cutthroat politics bleed into his personal life.

“But why?” Tag asks. His gray eyes are stormy. I remember that look. With Tag, much like with the rest of us, you’re asking for trouble when you mess with the unit. Or anyone he cares about.

“He’s making a run for the White House. Turns out he has skeletons. Several of them. That job we did in Syria, taking out Assad’s second-in-command . . . it wasn’t government sanctioned like the Colonel thought. Sims was just covering his tracks. He’d been brokering arms deals for that asshole for his own personal gain. Made millions. I guess presidential campaigns are expensive. But he had us take him out. Now we’re the only loose threads. We are his last remaining skeletons.”