Page 79 of The Wild Charge

Tenny wore a serious face, streaked with green-black stripes like claw marks. “Hey,” he said again, even though Reese was almost nose-to-nose with him. His breath rushed warm across Reese’s mouth, and his eyes were still his own – stillsoftin that way he only showed Reese. “You keep telling me not to pretend, right?” Even his voice was soft, that low, gentle tone he only ever used when they were alone together.

Reese blinked yet again – and again. Felt a stirring in his chest. He was…the op was…

Tenny cupped his cheek with a paint-stained hand. “Darling. Don’t go down so deep.”

Reese frowned. He was…hewasdown deep. Had already flung off the trappings of his daily life. He gave himself a mental shake, but it was hard. Once the paint went on, he…helet go. Of everything that wasn’t the job. He stopped being Reese and was…was just…the op.

Tenny’s other arm slipped around the small of his back, and dragged him even closer. That was good; he liked that. He rested his hands on Tenny’s chest, and Tenny smiled, a little, though his expression was still sad.

“You’re getting in your head, I can see it,” he said. “And that’s good. You’re very good at what you do. But this is a small job. Don’t go so far under that you aren’tyouanymore, alright?”

“I…” Words got stuck in his throat. He felt caught between two points, one familiar, easy, routine – the other new, still, but so warm, and so welcoming.

Tenny kissed him, quick and light. “It’s fine. I’ll pull you back if I have to.”

What…?

Someone knocked on the door, and Tenny released him, turned back to the mirror.

Fox stuck his head into the room. “Ready?”

Reese blinked some more, and the fog lifted; he glanced at his own reflection, painted andready, yes, and emotion bled away, left him only prepared. Equipped. Yes, that was right.

“Ready,” Tenny said, and started strapping on his Kevlar.

~*~

On its face, this was an easy job. But over the years, Fox had learned that those could wind up being the most dangerous.

It had started days ago, when they had Luis out of the trailer and in the common room. “If you wanted a face-to-face meeting with the next guy up the chain, how would you get it?” Ghost had asked.

Luis had fidgeted, but said, “We have code words.”

Fox had already figured that. Just like he’d already figured that Luis was just as likely to give them theabortcode rather than themeet mecode.

They made Luis read off the script out loud, several times.

Then Fox had been the one to make the call on the burner phone, while Luis looked on in a panic; he’d mimicked Luis’s voice and accent just like he’d mimicked hundreds of others, and when a smoke-roughened voice answered, had said, “Man, we gotta meet. We gottameet. You have to meet me.”

“Whoa.” The other voice had perked up with sudden alarm. “You can’t just – who is this?”

“It’s Luis,” Fox had hissed. “Dude, I had to buy a new phone. Shit’s crazy. I can’t – look, I can’t talk. They’re after me. But you gotta get me outta here. We have tomeet.”

“Alright, alright, slow down. When? Where?”

“It’s like screaming nonsense into one of those phone tree things with the bank,” Fox had explained to Ghost. “They’re gonna send someone to deal with him. My guess? It’s gonna be a hit. He’s gone off the grid, and now he gets back on like this? Yeah, they gotta get rid of him.”

Luis had pressed his head down into his arms – before Mercy snatched him up and marched him back to his trailer.

Someone would come meet “Luis.”

And someone else would be hiding in the bushes with a sniper rifle.

Good thing he had spooks of his own.

Fox had strapped his Kevlar on beneath a baggy hoodie, pulled a hat down over his face, and slid into a dark corner booth at Smokey’s as the sun was setting red in the plate glass windows. No one would risk a hit at a public place, not if Abacus wanted to stay off the radar.

He propped an elbow on the table and spoke into the mic fixed inside his sleeve. “Status.”

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