Page 13 of Legacy's Destiny

“Probably. Not taking that bet.” Ranger dipped his chin and popped the sausage into his mouth before asking, “You got her number?”

It took Deacon a moment to decipher what the man had said, but it finally registered, and he answered, “Nah, but I leftmine for her.” He piled some eggs on his toast and took a bite. “Figured the ball was in her court.” Even though they’d both been raised with proper manners, living so long with the same men and being in the field, manners, when other people weren’t around, slid to the side and stayed there.

The door opened, and Ace walked in. He glanced at them, lifted his hand, and went straight to his bedroom. Ranger shoveled more food in his mouth before mumbling, “All the chicks are in the coop, Mother Hen.”

“Thanks for the headline.” Deacon rolled his eyes and moved his chair closer to the wall when Bandit entered the small kitchen area. The table could hold three men. If anyone else showed up before one of them was done, they’d have to eat standing up or in the suite's living area.

After Deacon finished his meal, Ranger got a second plate, which Deacon had accounted for. Ace, fresh from the shower, came in with a towel over his shoulders. He pulled off a plastic cover from the stack of plates and sat down when Deacon stood up and put his plate back on the trolley. “What time is the meeting?” Ace asked.

“Eight.”

“We’ll be ready,” Ranger said, and the other two nodded.

Deacon refilled his coffee and leaned against the small counter. “I have no idea what the mission is or where we’ll be heading. The only thing I know is it involves the CIA.”

“Well, that sucks.” Ace snorted.

“The CIA?” Bandit asked.

“No, not knowing anything else,” Ace replied. “I’ve worked with good and bad officers. Like anywhere else, people are who they are. All the security checks in the world won’t change human nature.”

Ranger stopped eating and looked at Ace. “Well, hell, that was deep. Who are you, and what have you done with Ace?”

Ace spoke through his food. “Fuck you, man. I’m deep.”

Bandit laughed. “Yep. Bullshit piles up.”

They laughed, and Ace held up a double-finger salute at all of them.

“Careful, that degree in philosophy is showing,” Ranger said.

“Psychology, asshole,” Ace reminded him.

“Right,” Bandit said. “Doesn’t help your sour demeanor.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m a fucking ray of sunshine.” Ace couldn’t keep a straight face, and they all laughed again. Rip wandered in and made a direct line for the coffee pot. “Did Ranger make this?”

“No,” everyone said at the same time.

“Thank God,” Rip whispered, pouring some of it into a cup. “My head is killing me.”

“Too much of a good thing?” Deacon asked. It wasn’t like his guys to drink too much, especially in a foreign country.

“No. I only had three drinks all night.” He turned to look at Ranger. “Right?”

Ranger nodded. “Yeah. Three, and we didn’t leave them unattended.”

“I’ve got some stuff.” Bandit got up. “Don’t throw that away.” He pointed at his half-eaten plate. “Eat something, Rip. Taking this shit on an empty stomach isn’t advised.”

Rip nodded and found the pastries. He had an infamous sweet tooth, but he didn’t devour the pastry like he usually would. Deacon fixed another pot of coffee and waited until Rip had taken the meds. “You go back to bed. The others will clear up and get ready to move out.”

“Okay.” Rip walked out of the kitchen without any argument.

“Damn,” Bandit said what they were all thinking. Rip had to be hurting if he didn’t argue about helping out.

“Keep an eye on him.”

“You know it,” Ranger said, speaking for everyone. He nodded to Deacon. “You better get going, or you’ll be late.”