Page 23 of Legacy's Destiny

Rip volunteered for a second watch, his voice steady despite the grim acknowledgment of the sleep he’d sacrifice. The team moved with the efficiency of men accustomed to hardship, each taking their role without complaint. Deacon slid down to the jungle floor, hiding their packs beneath thick foliage before finding a vantage point to keep watch. Echo had impressed him. She held on and kept up with a team that trained for the struggles of the jungle environment. Sharp witted and funny, she’d found favor with all of the team. Even Ace, who was a hard egg to crack. Echo was different. She was a special mix of determination, fight, and personality that … Hell, she was rather like Ronan’s woman, Fleur. Not physically, but the strength of character was there. The determination to see the mission through. The weight of responsibility pressed against his chest, but he welcomed it. His gaze lingered on Echo’s hammock above, her presence an unexpected thread of … something special woven into their relentless mission.

CHAPTER 7

“What?” Echo gasped, her breath catching as she jumped from the sudden weight of a hand on her shoulder. The warmth of it burned through the damp fabric of her shirt, startling her out of the haze of sleep. She twisted around to find Bandit grinning down at her, his expression a mixture of amusement and patience.

“Cap, Ranger, and Ace are doing recon at the camp,” he said softly, his voice a soothing rumble in the otherwise silent jungle. “I let you sleep as long as I could, but we better take a look at those blisters.”

She groaned, shifting in the hammock. The nylon material crinkled beneath her weight as she tried to sit up, her movements awkward and clumsy. “Here or on the ground?” she muttered, blinking against the muted light filtering through the canopy.

“I’m not a trapeze artist,” Bandit replied with a smirk. “The ground works better for me. Here, take my hand, and I’ll help you out of that human-sized condom.”

A laugh burst from Echo’s lips, and she slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle it. Her eyes sparkled with humor as she whispered, “You did not just say that.”

“Sorry,” Bandit said, though his grin suggested he wasn’t sorry at all. “That’s what we call them.”

He steadied her as she climbed down, his grip firm yet careful. Echo winced the moment her feet touched the ground, the sharp sting of raw skin and broken blisters shooting up her legs. The new boots, still stiff and damp from sweat and river water, had rubbed her feet mercilessly. The blisters had undoubtedly multiplied, but she gritted her teeth and kept moving. It wasn’t just pride—she wasn’t about to complain when her employer was the reason they were all in the sweltering, relentless jungle.

Bandit gestured to a large, moss-covered rock. “Sit there. I’ll grab my bag.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, hobbling toward the rock. The rough surface was cool against her hands as she hoisted herself up, settling into a position that offered some relief. She’d barely unlaced her first boot when Bandit returned, crouching in front of her with an efficiency born of experience.

“Let me do this,” he said, his tone kind but firm. “I’ve patched up more blisters than I can count.”

“Thanks,” Echo replied, leaning back slightly. She winced as he carefully peeled the boot away, the damp leather sticking to her sock. When he lifted the edge of the sock, his lips pressed into a thin line.

After a moment, he said, “Okay, I’m going to have to soak these socks off. I don’t want to pull on the blisters and make them worse.”

“Whatever it takes,” Echo said, determination masking the pain.

“As long as it takes,” Bandit and Rip said simultaneously over the comms, their voices low and resolute.

Echo blinked at Bandit, her brow furrowing. “Uh … okay?”

Rip’s voice came through the earpiece, quieter but laced with pride. “Sorry, that’s Guardian’s motto. Whatever it takes, as long as it takes. It means something to each of us. We’re a team, and nothing stops us.”

“Oh,” Echo said, nodding slowly as she watched Bandit work. “Well, that makes sense.”

Bandit gently removed the socks that were matted to her skin. The blisters underneath were red, raw, and angry, and they burned as cool air kissed the broken skin.

“This isn’t too bad,” Bandit said, calm and reassuring. “I’ve treated a lot worse. I’ll get you comfortable.”

Echo bent forward, peering at her mangled feet. “This isn’t bad?” she asked incredulously.

Bandit chuckled softly. “Not at all. We’ll keep an eye on it—clean it, bandage it, and ensure there’s no infection. The jungle loves to breed infection.”

“How long have you been working in this part of the world?” Echo asked, wincing as he dabbed antiseptic on her skin.

Rip’s snort came through the comms. “Forever.”

Bandit grinned as he continued working. “Our team’s been together for six years. We’ve mostly operated in this region. Each of us speaks at least one local language to help with missions. Cap speaks the most. No overlap, though—we all bring something different to the table.”

“Do you ever go back to the States?”

“Sure,” Rip answered. “Every three months or so, depending on missions. We get downtime, training, and updates.”

Echo watched Bandit’s steady hands as he worked, marveling at the near-pain-free way he treated her blisters. “Are any of you married?”

“Nope,” Bandit replied, glancing up briefly. “Most women wouldn’t appreciate a husband who’s only home four monthsout of the year. Ace has a steady girlfriend who’s okay with it, but she dates when he’s not around.”

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