Page 66 of Shadow Blind

Aiden weaved his way through the milling warriors, hoping to escape from the conference room before Benioko accosted him. Since the shaman’s private attempt to persuade Aiden to join his cult had failed, Aiden expected the old man to give public hounding a try. So far, he’d evaded the shaman, who was still at the back of the room with Wolf and a reverential cluster of warriors.

He’d just stepped through the door when talons latched onto his biceps. His brother’s Kalikoia warriors wouldn’t be so familiar, and he’d left Benioko behind, which meant the iron fingers had to belong to one of his former teammates. Probably Cosky. Rude and assertive described his sister’s husband well.

But when he turned to glare, the hawkish face that greeted him was Mackenzie rather than Cos. It didn’t surprise him. Mackenzie wasn’t known for his manners, or temperament either. He’d seen his former commander slip into the conference room and take the wall behind Zane and Rawls during the middle of his TED Talk. The wall lean had surprised him. He’d expected the dude to take Aiden’s abandoned chair.

“Come,” Mackenzie barked, letting go of Aiden’s arm. He pivoted, his shoulders leading the way, and stalked to an open door ten feet to the left.

Aiden followed Mackenzie down the hall and through the open door. Zane, Cosky, and Rawls stood in a loose huddle near another table. A smaller one with no Kalikoia words carved into its surface.

He turned, scanning the room for a coffee stand and found…nothing.

Fuck.

This impromptu meeting was going to be unbearable without a caffeine punch to stabilize his patience and temper.

He sighed, exhaustion suddenly crashing over him. “Can this wait? I need…” His voice trailed off. He could hardly admit he needed a damn nap. Before he could backpedal, his commander—or former commander—stepped into him, standing almost chest to chest.

“Hell no, this can’t wait!” Mackenzie snapped, a thunder cloud rolling across his lean face. He jutted his chin out. “You got a problem with that?”

A crackle of irritation flickered beneath Aiden’s fatigue. It was just like Mackenzie to turn this into a confrontation. While the bastard’s short black hair carried more gray, and his face more lines, his black eyes still flashed with temper. The commander’s disposition hadn’t softened since he’d been booted from ST7.

“We’re not questioning what you said back there,” Zane broke in, calmly smoothing the tension riding the aftermath of Mackenzie’s outburst.

It looked like those old team dynamics were still in play. Zane was still smoothing the choppy waters following hurricane Mackenzie, and the commander still needed a fucking filter.

“We have questions about O’Neill,” Zane continued.

O’Neill? Not Kuznetsov? Not the two clowns who’d gone after Demi? Not Aiden’s detailed account of what he’d seen in Karaveht or experienced with his own team?

“What about him?” Aiden’s eyebrows lifted.

“This was the first time he’s asked questions in a briefin’. Before today, he just sits there, boots on the table, eyes closed, actin’ like his shit’s too grand for the rest of us.” Rawls squinted, then shook his head. “But now? Hell, the dude’s obviously piped in. He knew of Nantz Technology. He knew what they manufacture. Hell, he even used USSOCOM lingo.”

Zane nodded and used his index finger to scratch the middle of his furrowed forehead.

“And he called us squids,” Mackenzie practically snarled, as if that was the missing rivet that sank the ship. “Straight out of the marine raider field book.” He gritted his teeth before adding in an angry rumble. “Asshole.”

Aiden glanced between his former teammates. Seriously? They were worked up because of O’Neill’s SEAL insult? Was life so slow under Wolf’s leadership they had to generate drama to feel alive?

“He didn’t get the insult quite right,” Aiden drawled, loading his voice with mockery. “It’s dirty, nasty squids.”

“The point is,” Zane glanced at the opaque glass window in the door Mackenzie had closed, as if ensuring nobody was outside listening to them, “he’s obviously got contacts. Non-USSOCOM contacts. We can use that.”

Aiden cocked his head, considering that. Fair enough. “I don’t know the guy. But then I’m not the one who’s been crewing with him. That would be you boys. Why the hell would you think I’d know more about him than you do?”

Rawls shrugged. “Didn’t that brother of yours fill you in on the Shadow Mountain crew?”

That question brought a scoff and an eye roll. “Big bro hasn’t told me shit about anyone on this base. That goes double for O’Neill.” He frowned before adding, “That said, I get the strong impression he’d like to toss O’Neill out on his ass.”

Cosky nodded, curiosity flickering in his silver eyes. “We get the same impression. Why hasn’t he? What does O’Neill have on him?”

“No clue,” Aiden drawled.

O’Neill’s history was the least of his concerns. Although, if the dude had contacts outside of USSOCOM, they could be downright helpful. Assuming the bastard would admit to having any contacts.

“The guy’s got to be a former raider,” Rawls said, his brows creased in thought. “That would explain his hand-to-hand and close quarters skills.”

“Nah,” Cosky’s eyes narrowed. “My money’s on intelligence. One of the stateside alphabet soups. CIA or DIA, maybe AMI. Special ops soldiers wouldn’t know about Nantz Technology or the shit they develop.”

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