Page 26 of Surge

He locked his hands behind his head—but that was a smug Caldwell posture. He lowered his hands to the table. “That was last year when he ignored the order to avoid exercise or activity to let his ankle heal.”

She nodded. “You are an angry bear. Sam was just trying to be diligent about his SEAL service.”

He bit his tongue for a long moment. “I called it idiocy. He needed me to get in his face when I caught him in the gym. He ended up with his ankle in that orthopedic boot. For six weeks. Six weeks we needed him. He learned about listening to the doc. And me.”

Her jaw clenched, and she started to say something but instead gave a heavy sigh. “Six weeks? He should’ve listened to the doc.” Her lips twisted. “And you.”

He jutted his chin in agreement.

“And I need to listen to you.” Her croaky voice again. “I didn’t think through what terrorists—Sachaai—would do with this chemical if we don’t find it.” She exhaled heavily. “You’re acerbic and rude, but you want to stop them. That’s what I want, so . . . yeah, I’ll comply.”

“So you and I have the same goal in Singapore.”

“Save Americans.”

“Yes.” He extended his hand. “Since we have the same goal, let’s start fresh.”

“But you hate me for being a woman.”

“I don’t hate you for being a woman. I just don’t work with women.”

She stared at him for a long second.

He studied his feet, then looked back up. “Let me try that again. I’ve never worked with female special operators—there aren’t any in the SEALs. Especially ones without military training or experience. We do need Surge. I’m . . . open to working with you.”

She chuckled. “Sounds like that hurt.” She smiled. “Okay then, I’ll work with you.”

He extended his hand again. Maybe now was time for a fresh start. “Hello. I’m Garrett.”

“Wow. First name, even.” She smiled. “And I’m Delaney. Committed to this mission.”

They shook hands.

Her head tilted. “Garrett, I do need you to understand that while Heath sent me, I am not ready to carry a gun and fight. But I am totally ready to deploy Surge.”

“Without you qualifying, I wouldn’t put one in your hand.” He reached for his water bottle, took a long guzzle. “I’ll give you some SEAL self-defense training before we go.”

“Right now?”

No reason why not. “We’ll start simple. Krav Maga—Israeli street fighting—will help and is practical.”

“Sounds intimidating.” She popped her hands together and stood. “Let’s do it.”

He moved the tables to the side.

She gave Surge a chew treat under the corner table, and he was obviously one extraordinarily happy dog.

“Is that a jerky stick?” Garrett asked.

“Sort of. It’s a bully stick. They’re great. He can chew on them at least a half hour.” She stood opposite him, squared her shoulders. “So, how do we do this?”

“What do you do when I do this?” Garrett grabbed her shoulder.

She wrenched away and fell on her rear. She pushed herself to a stand. “What happened there?”

He chuckled. “Remember, I’m the bad guy. When I grab your shoulder, put that hand down on the crook of my elbow. Force my arm close to you. No hesitation.”

She nodded.

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