Page 8 of Freeing Camila

A little too quickly, he blurted out, “Nothing,” a response that didn’t escape Hoot’s sharp, owl-like gaze, drawing his attention immediately.

Sawyer “Voodoo” Graves entered the room next. “What’s going on?” he greeted.

“Apparently, nothing,” Hoot answered.

“What’s nothing?” Duncan “Sparks” Breckenridge asked, setting a steaming mug of coffee on the table before slumping into a chair.

“What’s up with Jeeves,” Hoot replied.

“Huh?” Spark asked as all the eyes in the room settled on Jeeves.

“What’d Jeeves do now?” Ansel “Eggs” Scott asked after walking in the room twisting a cap off of a bottle of water.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Voodoo said, walking over to the console where a pot of coffee waited. After pouring himself a cup, he frowned at Jeeves over the top as steam wafted up in his face. “What did you do this morning?”

“Nothing,” Jeeves answered.

“There’s that nothing again,” Hoot teased.

“So, you just sat at home and did nothing?” Eggs asked.

“Fine. I went for a run,” Jeeves finally relented, handing over a little something to avoid further relentless pestering from the insistent guys. Somedays they gossiped like old mother hens.

The guys glanced at each other before settling their eyes back on him. Shit. They weren’t buying his deflection.

Flynn “Flint” Condor entering the room at that moment saved his ass and he let out a sigh of relief. The men seated themselves as their boss, standing at the head of the table, projected the image of authority and control they had come to expect from him.

You would never guess that the man was a billionaire, as he possessed a remarkably modest and unpretentious demeanor that belied his immense fortune. Forgoing a life of leisure funded by his family’s fortune, he prioritized service, first to his nation through military service and later through his own private security firm, with a dedication towards helping others in need. Leveraging his inherited wealth, the former SEAL commander established Condor’s Overwatch, a company that provided services to both government and private entities. He exclusively hired former military personnel, a practice exemplified by his recruitment of Hoot and Voodoo, both of whom had served alongside him in his SEAL team. Even with their multifaceted backgrounds, the team members’ similar experiences forged a strong bond, allowing them to work cohesively and develop a relationship as close as brothers.

The loss of a team member three years prior had been a devastating blow from which the team was still struggling to fully recover. Jeeves was particularly affected by the death of his friend having been present at the time of the death and powerless to prevent it. His actions in the aftermath of that time only served to deepen his sense of guilt, preventing him from moving past it.

Not for the first time, Jeeves wondered what he was doing there. His team at Condor’s Overwatch, all ex-military like him with finely-honed skills, were incredibly valuable assets in their high-stakes security work. But him . . . his mistakes stabbed at him like a persistent woodpecker. Constantly pecking at him and telling him he didn’t belong among them.

Despite the opportunity, the bitter taste of past setbacks lingered. He knew he should be grateful to Flint and Condor’s Overwatch, but his confidence was shattered. A gnawing sense of inadequacy persisted, even with Flint’s support. The disastrous years had left his self-esteem in ruins with the weight of past failures, leaving him feeling utterly defeated.

Atonement was all he could focus on now, all that he could do to try to right his wrongs.

Jeeves could sense that a reckoning was coming from his boss. Throughout the last three years, Flint had afforded him both the time and space required to work through his shit. A considerable act of patience Jeeves knew was coming to a close, and its end would not be easy for him to bear.

Haley “Halestorm” Lamb stumbling into the room thankfully distracted him from his thoughts. Their resident computer geek looked the part. With her hair a chaotic jumble atop her head and her glasses precariously perched, she looked harried as usual. And was that a pencil in her hair?

A steaming cup of coffee threatened to spill as she fumbled with her laptop and notepad, nearly dropping them all when she collided with the doorframe. Hoot was closest, so he quickly rose from his seat to help her, grabbing her coffee before she burned herself with the hot liquid. She smiled her thanks before taking her seat.

Her lack of self-awareness was overshadowed by her incredible skill. She could perform feats of digital wizardry on the computer, leaving most others far behind in their aspirations. She was an asset to the company, as were the other guys that sat around the table.

Flint, so named because he had the knack of being able to light a fire under the most stubborn, started the meeting. Hoot and Voodoo gave their report of a security assessment they’d done for a local business. Then Eggs and Spark spoke of their ongoing investigation into a fraud case. That left Jeeves who had nothing to report, having had no duties assigned specifically to him. The fact that he’d spent the previous few months in a supporting role, while helpful to his team, did little to alleviate his nagging sense of being undeserving of his position. A cruel twist of imposter syndrome that sat in his gut like a rock.

“I have one more thing,” Flint then stated before turning to Haley. “He there yet?”

“Just calling in now,” Haley answered, hitting a few keys on her laptop. Baker Rawlins’ image popped up on the large screen behind Flint. As their boss greeted the renowned SEAL, a ripple of respect went through the assembled men around the table, each one instinctively straightening their posture. Baker’s legendary status extended far beyond the teams, reaching into all corners of the military community. Last Jeeves heard, he’d retired to Hawaii?and the word “retired” was used loosely since a man like Baker never truly retired. Jeeves was aware the man maintained a vast network of contacts in the world’s seedy underbelly, constantly gathering information to safeguard those who most required his protection.

After pleasantries were completed, Flint then asked, “What can we do for you?”

“Got a project for you. The team stationed in Honolulu recently completed a mission in Columbia.”

His ears perked up at the mention of the country, the name a bitter taste on his tongue, bringing back the sounds of distant screams as memories assaulted him. Their run to the Humvee. Sutton’s fear filled face. Liam’s blood staining the backseat.

“I’m guessing it was successful,” Flint stated.

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