Page 37 of Skull

“…we’re still discussing the ramifications of the op,” the commander was saying, his voice laced with the static of a less-than-stellar connection. He and Terry had graduated from the same BUD/s class and had been close ever since. Justin wore the weight of that tragedy plainly on his face. “There’s concern at the top about how this will look if it turns sideways. And we all know Pincho’s got eyes on everything right now.”

A flash of anger surged through Skull, but GQ got there first. GQ all but exploded out of his seat, slamming a fist on the table hard enough that the metal clipboards rattled. “To hell with optics,” he snapped. “We’ve got two Americans,our teammates,rotting in a cartel hole! And Blade’s family is about to be in the line of fire. We can’t stand by while the brass twiddles their thumbs. We’re out of time.”

A flicker of irritation crossed the commander’s face. “I’m not telling you it’s my opinion, GQ. I’m telling you what I’m hearing. I’ve fought tooth and nail for approval?—”

“Yeah,” Breakneck cut in, leaning forward. “But if your bosses keep waffling, Pincho’s going to figure out Blade is missing sooner rather than later. The second she does, she’ll be out for blood.”

Walker, who had maintained a taut silence, let out a frustrated breath. “This isn’t just about the family. Once Pincho realizes Blade’s been captured, she’ll make the connection to the SEALs. That puts Hazard and Leigh in immediate jeopardy. She’ll either move them or kill them.”

A momentary hush settled over the room. Skull was certain everyone else felt the same suffocating grip of time. Two days left on Pincho’s deadline, but they all knew it was a flimsy promise at best.

The commander cleared his throat. “I’ve warned them. But you know how it is. They’re worried about blowback, fallout, all of it. I understand your frustration but keep it together.”

GQ looked ready to punch a hole through the conference table. Instead, he took a sharp breath and sat back down, hands balled into fists on his lap. A few feet away, Iceman stood with his arms folded, eyes distant and unreadable. Their master chief was simmering, but in typical fashion, keeping his anger contained for now.

Breakneck ran a hand through his short-cropped hair. “Look, if we can’t go in guns blazing until we get the official go-ahead, then someone’s gotta pretend to be Blade. We need to keep Pincho from realizing he’s gone. Use his phone. Go into Lealtad and stir enough smoke to keep her blind.”

Anna tapped her pen against a notepad, eyes narrowing as she thought it through. “That would be…risky.”

“It’s risky not to,” Breakneck shot back. “If Pincho finds out Blade is missing, that’s a death sentence for Hazard and Leigh. We need to buy ourselves time.”

Skull watched Anna’s expression shift from apprehension to grim resolve. She glanced over her shoulder at a slight figure standing toward the back of the room. Strekoza. With dark clothing and an unsettlingly calm presence, Strekoza looked more wraith than person.

“Strekoza, can you handle it?” Anna asked quietly.

Strekoza inclined her head in a silent nod. “Yes,” she said, voice so soft it barely carried across the table. “I can move in and out without drawing notice. As long as there’s a credible reason for Blade to be there, Pincho won’t suspect anything.”

Walker’s eyes flicked from Strekoza back to Anna. “How long can you maintain the charade?”

Strekoza’s dark gaze fixed on Walker. “As long as needed.”

Anna exhaled, then looked at the commander on the screen. “Sir, if we do this, we’re essentially forging ahead without official sanction.”

The commander nodded slowly, exhaustion etched in the lines of his face. “Keep it as low profile as you can. I’ll keep pushing for the green light. If you can stall Pincho, maybe we’ll get that mission approval in time to save Hazard, Leigh, and Blade’s family.”

Skull finally spoke up, his voice quiet but carrying weight. “And if you don’t get that approval?”

The commander’s shoulders sagged. “Then we’ll do what we always do. We’ll improvise, because we don’t leave our people behind.” His voice caught, briefly, recalling Terry’s death. He pinched the bridge of his nose, took a moment to steady himself, and then squared his shoulders. “But I’m banking on them seeing reason. We’ve come too far to watch Pincho destroy more of our own.”

Iceman stepped forward, placing both hands on the table, pale blue eyes sweeping over the team. “Let’s be clear. If Pincho realizes Blade’s missing and that we have him, she’ll know exactly who’s behind it. That means Hazard and Leigh won’t just be relocated. She’ll kill them. Brutally. So, if we do this infiltration, it needs to be airtight. No room for mistakes.”

Breakneck nodded, drumming his fingers restlessly. “Koz will keep them busy, and that will make all the difference.” He gave the Shadowguard a smile. She ruffled his hair and smiled back.

Skull flicked his gaze to Walker, who gave him a small nod in return. He had full confidence in her. They’d done crazier ops before, but this time, this op felt more personal, more desperate.

GQ, still visibly seething, let out a slow breath. “Are we seriously going to sit on our hands until the brass says yes?” he demanded.

“It’s not sitting on our hands,” Iceman said firmly. “We’re sending Strekoza in, and we’re prepping for a strike the moment we get the green light. Understand?” He pinned GQ with a look that brooked no argument. “We’re running out of time, so control that anger and use it to keep you razor-sharp.”

GQ shrugged, but his voice was tight with reluctant acceptance. “Yes, Master Chief.”

The commander rubbed a hand across his brow, the feed crackling as he shifted in his seat. “I’ll update you as soon as I hear anything. But for now—this is the play.”

He stared into the camera, meeting each of their gazes through the screen. “Stay alive and get Hazard and Leigh home.” His tone lowered. “Let’s not lose anyone else to Pincho.”

The screen cut to static, then went dark. For a moment, no one in the briefing room spoke. The gravity of the mission pressed in around them like a vise.

“Well,” Walker said softly, “we’ve got a plan, at least.”

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