Page 30 of Skull

In minutes, they would be on the landing pad at their base, one giant step closer to bringing everyone home safely—and that, for now, was victory enough.

That good feeling was short-lived. As she exited the chopper and two Marines took control of Blade, she entered the dimly lit corridor. Before she could head to the armory to drop her weapons, deciding it was best to clean them before she went to the debrief, Skull grabbed her arm and spun her around.

“What the fuck did you think you were doing?” The team assembled behind him, Iceman’s cold look freezing her. Oh, damn, she was in trouble.

Suddenly she was faced with a livid Skull, and a pissed off team, the tension in these alpha males couldn’t help but radiate out into the here and now. Those vibes could never be contained. It was just a part of who they were. She looked down at Bones, and her heart caught in her throat. He was a well-trained, fearless canine hero, and the blood matted in his fur shot it home to her what could have happened as a result of her single-minded decision.

She folded her arms across her chest, her heart jumping into a hard beat. The stance made her feel smaller than usual. A single flickering bulb overhead cast elongated shadows across the concrete walls. “My job,” she said, her chin lifting, not about to be taken to task for doing what Uncle Sam paid her for. “I don’t need permission for that.”

He blew out a hard breath. “You’re wrong, and you know you are. Anna knows that Ice is in charge, especially when we have civilian operators join our team.” He turned and pointed. “You see that man behind us? He’s our leader.” He stepped closer. “He’s your leader in anything to do with this fucking complicated, emotionally overcharged, and dangerous mission.” He pointed again, his tone exact and emphasizing the importance of his words. “Hegives the orders, andwefollow them. He has tactical expertise, assesses a situation, and makes a decision, then he issues his orders. I didn’t hear him tell you two to recklessly go after the HVT…fucking alone!” His tone was harsh, laced with both anger and genuine concern. The slight tremor in his hand indicated he was still coming down from the adrenaline spike that always accompanied near-catastrophe.

He closed the distance, his gruff voice cut through her momentary silence. “Do you realize what could’ve happened if we hadn’t found you in time?”

Walker took a step back, instinctively wanting to maintain personal space. She felt the immediate pull of her instincts—her mind kicked into analytical overdrive, cataloging the emotional cues on Skull’s face, the tightness in his shoulders, the flicker of protective fury in his eyes. A part of her wanted to dissect his anger logically, to slide into a cool defense.I did what needed to be done. This was the best opening.Yet the personal intensity rattled her. She knew, on some level, this confrontation wasn’t just about the mission.He cared and that made it harder to keep him at arm’s length.

She cleared her throat, gaze flicking first to Eva, who had deep remorse on her face, but that girl would follow her through the gates of hell without a thought for her own safety, and that made Walker feel the effects of her actions keenly, then to the men behind her partner. All these courageous warriors who had risked their lives for them, risked their lives every day for strangers.

“I…was focused on the target,” she said at last, her voice measured, almost too calm. Inside, she braced herself, feeling the swirl of guilt and a twinge of vulnerability. Skull was always fierce and direct. She liked that about him immensely. She’d witnessed him in combat enough times to recognize that his anger often stemmed from his protective instincts. A complicated heat rose in her chest—part defensiveness, part something more personal she couldn’t quite name.

Skull ran a hand through his thick hair, exhaling sharply. “That’s not the point. You can’t just run off without backup. You have no idea how close you came to—” He broke off, anger catching in his throat. The frustration on his face mingled with relief that she stood there, unscathed. “Next time, you wait for Ice’s orders. We do this together. Got it?”

She drew a steadying breath, resisting the urge to retreat behind the intellectual wall that told her to keep every emotion meticulously in check. Her heart hammered as she tried to explain herself. “I saw an opening and took it. I’m not used to…depending on others.” Her voice faltered ever so slightly, and she hated the exposed feeling that accompanied the admission.

For a moment, the corridor fell silent aside from the steady hum of the overhead light. Strekoza and the team moved past her. “We’ll discuss this more in debrief,” Ice said as he passed, his gaze sliding to Skull. “Get yourselves cleaned up and some grub.”

After they disappeared around the corner, Skull stepped closer, his posture softening enough that she could sense the concern behind the anger. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he said, quieter now, but still firm. The words kindled a strange mixture of discomfort and warmth within her. Letting others in threatened her fiercely guarded independence—yet it also promised a kind of safety she’d almost forgotten was possible.

Their gazes locked, tension thick between them. Hummingbird swallowed, reminding herself that raw emotion didn’t negate her competence—nor did it erase the simple truth that sometimes, other people showed up. Standing there, pinned by Skull’s protective glare and feeling her own guarded heart thudding in her chest, she nodded. She might not verbally concede to needing anyone’s help, but in that moment, she allowed herself to acknowledge he’d been there for her—and that she’d been wrong to assume she couldn’t rely on him.

The overhead light flickered again, and Walker shifted her weight, pulling her arms around herself more tightly. “Next time,” she said, forcing the hint of a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’ll wait.” And as Skull’s tense expression began to ease, she realized that, for the first time in a very long while, she might not have to shoulder every risk on her own. And even though she knew that intellectually, it still terrified the crap out of her.

Her flirtatious banter and light-hearted humor were morphing into something more, something intense, something deeply personal, she wasn’t sure how she was going to handle it—or him.

10

After passing an emotionally chargedbuildup between Skull and Hummingbird, Boomer breathed a sigh of relief, the echo of recent chaos still humming in his veins.

“Good job, you two,” Iceman said. “That was a tight ask, but I’m glad you got there in time. She’s a valuable, if somewhat unpredictable, CIA asset.” That was an understatement. Strekoza refused to back down or give an inch. Between him and GQ, their level of respect for the woman rose quite a few notches.

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Boomer was ever so slightly ill at ease with Ice’s praise. He’d done his job, nothing more, nothing less. SEALs watched out for each other, protected their own. It was the bond that had held him and his teammates together through firefights, endless drills, and long deployments. A brotherhood forged in sweat and gunpowder.

Iceman’s praise for their timely save of Strekoza sat heavy on him. It had gotten intense there for a little bit with all that flying lead, the precarious rooftop scramble, ending with them demolishing a technical, and a vehicle chase and interdiction that had netted them their prize.

“Boomer?” Strekoza approached him, limping faintly, a ragged tear at her shoulder with blood staining the dark fibers. Boomer had dragged her clear of danger, and the adrenaline rush was still jacking him up a bit, pumped for the encounters and the victory of getting their HVT. He never felt more focused than in those moments of imminent danger.

She approached him, her big eyes shining with gratitude. Before he could offer some gruff reassurance, she threw her arms around him in an impulsive hug. Warmth flooded through him, and for a split second he was confused. This wasn’t his usual territory. Emotions ran deep for him, sometimes more than he’d like to admit, but physical affection beyond the camaraderie of a well-earned fist bump or a pat on the back was something else entirely.

“Thank you,” Strekoza said softly, her voice tight with relief. “You saved my life back there.” Her hair smelled faintly of salt and steel. Boomer stiffened, confusion surging through him like a jolt of electricity. The affection felt alien, almost undeserved. All he’d done was the right thing. Nothing special. He was just doing what his training, his brothers had always taught him to do.

A strange, bashful pride nudged at his ribs as he tried to find the right words. “I—uh—” He glanced down at her, clearing his throat. “That’s what I do…what we do,” he corrected, thinking of his SEAL brothers. No matter the situation, each one was ready to protect the other, no questions asked. That ironclad bond would always be with him. Once a SEAL, always a SEAL, and he had extended it automatically to her.

Memories of his old team flickered through his mind. The endless nights in desert outposts, hoarse laughter shared around the glow of a dying campfire, the silent but unbreakable tether between men who had each other’s lives in their palms. The sense of belonging, the fierce loyalty, was as natural to him as breathing. And he remembered the losses, one in particular that still hung heavy on him no matter how he tried to let it go, let himself heal.

“Uh…” His hands hovered awkwardly, as though he was not entirely sure where to put them. “You can count on us,” he muttered.

“I see that, and I know what Skull and Bones did for Hummingbird. You’re all a bunch of heroes…even Severus.” She smiled.

His gaze flicked over Strekoza’s shoulder and landed on Taylor Hoffman. She stood in front of the mess hall just about to enter, her expression at first unreadable. She was solid, responsible, always vigilant, always prepared, and so beautiful she took his breath away. And still miles out of his league. He thought she had been clear on the plane, but now he wasn’t so sure. Because something flickered across her face as she took in Strekoza’s embrace. It wasn’t anger, maybe confusion, perhaps surprise, or something else he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

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