Page 75 of Deadly Hope
“If this little linebacker cooperates.” Lauren’s eyes sparkled. “Which, being Austin’s son, he probably won’t.”
The normalcy of it all—Lauren’s success, her solid marriage to Austin, their growing family—hit Axel like a punch to the gut. Not envy exactly, but a sharp awareness of what he wanted in his own life. What he might lose if he didn’t?—
“So,” Kenji’s voice cut through his thoughts, “now that we’re officially a separate unit, we need a name. Something professional.”
“‘The Extremely Professional People Who Do Professional Things Professionally’?” Griff suggested with an uncharacteristic wink.
Izzy growled. “I will end you, Hawkins. That wouldn’t even fit on a business card.”
Griff nodded. “I know. That’s what makes it professional!”
The banter continued, but Axel found his attention drawn back to Olivia. She’d turned slightly, watching Lauren with an expression he couldn’t quite read. Longing? Fear? Both?
Whatever it was, it made his chest ache.
If Olivia would just look at him, maybe he could find the right words.
He mentally rehearsed them for the hundredth time.
Olivia, I need to tell you something?—
Ugh. Too demanding.
Olivia, I was wondering if?—
Yuck. Too hesitant.
Olivia, I?—
“What about ‘Shadow Team’?” Ronan’s suggestion yanked Axel from his internal dialogue. A blessing, for sure.
“Could you be more cliché?” Kenji groaned. “Why not just call us ‘Ninja Squad’ and be done with it?”
“Better than ‘Puppy Team,’” Zara pointed out. “Which someone keeps threatening.”
Ronan raised both hands. “Hey, we’re the young ones. Might as well own it.”
“Junior Varsity,” Maya suggested with a grin.
“Knight Tactical’s Little League,” Kenji offered.
Izzy looked up from her burger long enough to roll her dark eyes. “Why not cut to the chase and go with Power Puff team? With added Unicorn Sprinkles.”
Lauren’s laugh rang out, rich with memory. “You should have heard some of the early names we tried.” She settled into a chair, one hand absently rubbing her belly. “I think Chance once suggested ‘God’s Green Berets.’” She shook her head. “Probably a good thing they just went with Knight Tactical.”
And then it hit him. They should honor Tank.
His mind flashed to their SEAL days—Tank’s booming laugh during late-night card games, his steady presence during firefights, the way he’d pull guys aside when he saw them struggling. The big man had been their backbone, their conscience, their unwavering moral compass.
The team’s conversation faded to background noise as Axel’s gaze drifted back to Olivia. She’d finally turned away from the window, but her eyes stayed fixed on her plate. The others had learned to give her space, but Tank ... Tank never let anyone retreat into themselves. He’d have been right there, speaking truth with that gentle voice that somehow carried more weight than any drill sergeant’s. The same voice that had talked Axel through his darkest moments after Kandahar.
Tank never hesitated to tell people what they meant to him. Never let fear stop him from living his faith out loud.
While here sat Axel, running conversations in his head he was too afraid to have in real life. Paralyzed by what-ifs, while Tank had never wasted a single moment being afraid to love.
The memories surfaced, both painful and uplifting, of Tank charging into danger, of Tank taking the time to pray with a terrified civilian child. “Because perfect love casts out fear,” Tank had said later, shrugging off the medal citation like it was nothing.
“Team Tank,” he announced, his voice cutting through the banter.
