Page 22 of Out of Control

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m getting old. Slowing down.”

“You? Hardly. You look even more fit than the last time we worked together.”

“Sometimes it feels as if I’m losing the edge. Maybe it’s time to move aside for better operators.”

Drago reached across the table, startling the hell out of Spencer by laying his rough, callused hand on top of Spencer’s. A few black hairs were visible on the back of Drago’s fingers, among the scars and permanently roughened skin from years of sun, wind, and desert dry exposure. “You’re a hell of a fine SEAL, Spencer.”

“I was.”

“Still are. Always will be.” Drago hesitated, then added, “I might have been keeping tabs on you from afar. You know. Just checking in from time to time to make sure you were still alive. You did some impressive shit in your career.”

Spencer shrugged. “If not me and my guys, someone else would’ve done the jobs.”

“You know as well as I do that men like you do not grow on trees. I realize you’re a humble guy and don’t like to toot your own horn. But you are an exceptional SEAL. End of discussion.”

Fair enough. He shrugged, which was as close as he could bring himself to agreeing with Dray’s assessment. “I’ve had a few mess-ups here and there. No SEAL team gets it perfect every time.”

“Exactly. Spec ops isn’t a precise science.”

“Still. It feels as if it is my time to bow out.”

“You’re tired. Need a break. When’s the last time you took a vacation?”

He looked up in surprise. “Vacation? I don’t do vacations.”

Drago snorted. “And there’s your problem, right there. You don’t know how to wind down, man. You gotta relax from time to time. Hell, get laid. When’s the last time you had sex?”

“That’s none of your—”

“Sonofabitch. Don’t tell me it was with me… what, ten years ago? Cripes. It’s a miracle you’re not a full-on Section 8 by now.”

“I’m not mentally unfit for service!”

“Are you sure about that? I gotta say, I’m worried about you. Thank God I lured you out here to help me.”

“Thanks, Mama Bear,” Spencer murmured, “but you can put away your worry beads. For the moment, I’m chasing rogue CIA agents.”

“I’m not a rogue!” A pause. “Well, not yet. I’m contemplating committing a murder that would make me a rogue, but I haven’t done it yet.”

Spencer frowned. “Look. Take my advice and hang on to your career. It would suck to be forced out in the cold for good.”

“You and me. Whaddaya say? Let’s blow up our careers together. It’ll be fun.” Drago flexed his arms and showed off his impressive guns. “You can’t tell me you don’t like the eye candy.”

Spencer snorted. “The eye candy is just fine. But that’s not the point.”

“Sure it is. You have to quit overthinking your life so much. Live in the moment a little.”

“I didn’t come here to get psychoanalyzed by you. I came to take you home.”

“About that….”

Chapter Six

DRAGO SEARCHEDfor the right words to finish the thought, but Spencer held up his hands before the words came, warding off the rest of the sentence. Dammit. They really needed to finish this conversation. Otherwise Spencer was going to drag him onto a plane and take him back to Langley, very soon.

Spencer said tersely, “Promise me you’ll still be here when I come back down from my shower.”

He really wished the guy would give him a little credit for honor and integrity. He wasn’t a pathological liar like some CIA operatives. “Yeah, sure. I promise.”

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