Goatfuck was the operative word as Oliver “Artful Dodger” Graham took his seat alongside his teammates. Max “Mad Max” Keegan had just returned from leave and everyone was buzzing about the big man getting engaged to Dr. Renata Cavalcante, the woman who had saved his and their K9 Juggernaut’s lives during the aforementioned goatfuck.
That was the good news.
The bad news?
Their Lieutenant Ford “Fast Lane” Nixon, on the other hand, was dealing with a lot of fallout from the brass about letting terrorist Muhammad Angar Said escape. Fast Lane had told them in the past that he was the one who took the heat, so his guys didn’t have to. But, bollocks, it was still a cock-up. They were all in this together as far as he was concerned.
It didn’t help that there were several factors that contributed to the hastily contrived plan that had broken up their team and sent them in different directions to rescue their missing teammate and stop the Paraguayan government from releasing Angar Said. They’d only accomplished one of those things.
Now here they were, assembled in the ready room, waiting for either an ass-chewing or a mission to right the previous goatfuck into a win.
Dodger was expecting it may be a bit of both. The brass had to take their LT’s strong record into account. Fast Lane had led them through many successful missions. The only other blot on his record was when the team had been ambushed at the hands of the Kirikhanistan Rebels, who’d captured Fast Lane, Errol “Pitbull” Ballentine, and their deceased member Justin “Speed” Myerson.
“So, did you get down on one knee?” Pitbull asked, and Max smiled softly. The change in his teammate from the hotheaded, anger-first guy was miraculous. Mad Max just might have to find a new moniker. Of course, he was still a bit crazy, so maybe the name still fit.
“Bollocks to that. Max probably hit her over the head, dragged her into a cave by her hair, and said, ‘You marry Max.’ I’m sure there were several grunts and growls in there somewhere,” Dodger said.
The table erupted into laughter and Max narrowed his eyes at Dodger. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t so reformed.
Dodger grinned.
“It beats what you do, Dodger,” Max said.
“Slip out the back door?” Ryuu “Dragon” Shannon offered.
“I heard he once climbed out a window,” Pitbull said.
“You’re only in trouble if you get caught,” Dodger said, working at not letting his teammates’ opinions of his love life affect him. They had no idea what he’d been through, so the wankers could have their fun. Dodger would dodge that, too. It was also clear that Max was still unwilling to let Dodger anywhere near Anna. Not that Dodger was dwelling on that. He wasn’t. Just because he thought about her every waking moment didn’t mean he was caught up on her. He was just wondering what he’d missed out on. Max was smart to be vigilant. Dodger would do to Anna what he did to every woman he met. Sex, then escape. He often kept his conquests to Frog Hogs. All they were after was sex with a SEAL. It made for a mutually good time without any explanations or follow-up conversations where he had to hurt the woman’s feelings.
When he looked down the length of the table, everyone was fully engaged, even Fast Lane.
But his teammate Neo “2-Stroke” Teller was completely checked out like he was lost to his thoughts. He had a small notebook in his hands, and he was absorbed in it.
Dodger had seen glimpses of the notebook before. It was nondescript and could be something he was writing in. Maybe he kept a journal and that helped him during ops. Unknown to the guys and something Dodger kept to himself was that 2-Stroke was sensitive. He was a badass warrior, there was no doubt about it, but he was wise in a way that set him apart from the other teammates and made him seem older than his almost twenty-three years.
When the door opened, the laughing and ribbing ceased. 2-Stroke looked up abruptly and caught Dodger staring at him. He closed the notebook and set it on the table. Then he looked toward the door, and his face went white. It took a lot for a SEAL to react in shock. But that was shock Dodger saw on 2-Stroke’s face.
Two women entered. One Dodger knew—blonde, coldly beautiful Kelly Sparks, their CIA liaison, who’d been with the team for about