Page 11 of Eight Years (The Trident Trilogy 1)

“Butch Harrison: short, compact, all mouth. Georgia redneck. Tough as nails. But, just always talking. Ty Miller: quiet, always observing, probably knows everything about everything. He’s the most highly trained medic on the team.”

“How many medics do they have on each team?” I ask.

“I mean they’re all trained at field medical. One of them is almost always dinged somehow on a mission, so they all need to have the basic skills. Only a few are trained to do critical care in the field though.”

I guess there was no one trained on how to help my dad when a house he was clearing blew up all around him.

“Do they know about your dad?” Raine seems to be reading my mind.

“What? No. No one knows except the higher-ups at the agency and you.”

“You should tell them, Millie. They take the family thing really seriously here. Your dad was one of them. It makes you one of them.”

“I’m not part of it. I told you my dad kept me away from all this. I only met a few of them after he died.”

“It doesn’t matter. They’ll want to know. It’s something you should tell them. Really.”

“I don’t want them to know. I don’t want anyone to know. You can’t tell them.”

“You know I won’t,” she says.

I do know she won’t. She’s the most solid friend I’ve ever had.

“Is that the entire team?”

“No, they usually run with six or seven on a team. Let me see, who haven’t I told you about? Umm, Mitch Davidson. They call him Mouse because he’s really small next to the other guys. Crazy fast. By far the best swimmer on the team. Bryce Barton, new guy on the team, just out of sniper school. Seems solid. And Hawk Fuller, whose God-given name is really Hawk. He’s a knuckle dragger. You know, the guy who will do the dirty work. And, he’s really good at it. Probably wouldn’t want to do anything else.”

“Well, they sound like a really fun group of guys to be around,” I say sarcastically.

“They’re all right,” she says. “And, they’re going to looooooove you.”

“Meaning?”

“You still look like a fucking Barbie doll, Millie. I thought George was trying to make you blend in a bit more.”

“He was, but as it turns out, this look works surprisingly well in interrogations.”

“Wait, what does that mean?” she asks.

“You know most of the guys I interrogate are the religious zealots. They like women to shut up, cover up, and disappear into the woodwork. When I walk into the room, I think it kind of freaks them out.”

“Shit, I’ve been called a whore so many times, I can’t imagine how many times you have.”

“Umm, fuck you,” I say laughing.

“No, I mean, look at you—the hair, the skin, the eyes, the body, and especially the attitude. You have to be their worst nightmare come true.”

“One guy told me I looked like a ghost,” I say smiling proudly.

“Oh my God, that’s hilarious. I bet he gave it up pretty quickly,” she says.

“Well, he definitely didn’t like being in the room alone with me.”

Raine’s phone is blowing up. “Mills, I’m sorry. I have to go. Do you want to meet for a drink tonight? I can probably introduce you to the team. They usually hang out at a bar by the base on Tuesday nights. Dollar pitchers and free pool tables. They rarely miss it when they’re in town. May be a good idea to meet them socially before the work starts.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. Text me later.”

As I watch her walk away, it occurs to me that this might be one of the last times I’ll ever see her. I’ve known all along that I’ll probably end up dead at the end of this, and I’m fine with that if it means finding out the truth. But it’s just now that I’m realizing what it might do to the handful of people in my life who love me, including Chase.

---