Page 36 of Unmade

“Do me a favor and tell him that,” I said. “It’ll make his day.”

Meanwhile, I’d rather knock the boy on his ass. Forty wasn’t fucking old. I’d been kidding. We had operators in their fifties who were in the prime of their lives.

I shook my head to myself and stuck my hands down in my pockets. “Only a twentysomething-year-old would call me old.”

That one actually made him grin, and it was nice to see. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I just expected to see more younger people.”

We had younger operators too, but they were lucky enough to be busy working.

I reckoned it was time to give Leighton some facts. “Half the recruits will drop out before final selection,” I said. “During selection, another three or four will fail. That leaves us with four or five new junior operators every year who sign up for a minimum of four years with us. Sometimes fewer—it depends how many we accept and how many apply in the first place. And last but not least, even though junior operators are contracted for four years, they can opt out of fieldwork if they can’t handle the pressure. And someone always does.”

The kid turned pensive. Maybe he considered, for the first time, the resources we spent to ultimately have two or three new operators every year—operators who actually stayed with us long-term.

“What’s the number one reason they drop out?” he asked.

“The young ones? The pressure’s too much,” I answered. “We put our recruits through a lot of teamwork exercises, but in the end, it’s a lonely field. You’re your own backup out there. Your own guide, your own translator, your own weapons expert.”

There were plenty of agencies that shipped entire units overseas, from four to twelve people. Hillcroft took on contracts that required one, two…sometimes three and four. Mostly one. It depended on the nature of the mission.

Leighton hummed. “It may sound weird coming from the Army infantry, but I’m good with lonely work.”

I tilted my head. “Is that because it’s your preference or because it’s all you know?”

“Can’t it be both?”

“Sure. But is it?”

He broke eye contact and knitted his brows together. “Like I said, straight outta the infantry…”

Uh-huh. Where he’d had to go to the bathroom to get solitude. But that didn’t answer my question. Being alone wasn’t restricted to the number of coworkers you had. Even lonely operators needed someone to come home to. Family, kids, a spouse…

I folded my arms over my chest and leaned against the wall. “With your permission, I’d like to speak to Doc about your first session tomorrow.”

“You mean—you wanna know what we talked about?”

“I want his two cents on your mind-set,” I corrected. “He won’t give me details, but he might gloss over some things.”

He smiled ruefully and sighed, and he sat down on the couch. “Do I have a choice?”

“Of course you do. But in order for me to be the mentor you need, I want as much information as I can get my hands on.” I paused briefly. “You’re also alone in this apartment now, and the one con on my list is that I don’t think you should be on your own too much.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket, so I took it out while Leighton mulled over his response.

A message from Shira.

We need you to come in.

Fuck. Had they found the ship? Or even better, the crew that’d hijacked a part of it to use for their operations?

I saw no other reason for Shira to wanna see me urgently.

“Yeah, all right,” I heard Leighton say. “Fine.”

I looked at him, and it took me a moment—wait. Oh, right. Permission to talk to Doc. Okay, good.

I nodded once and pocketed my phone. “I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow. Text me or Coach if anything’s wrong.”

Now I had to text my sister. I wasn’t gonna be able to pick up Alex on time.

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