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“No worries,” the commander said. He waved his hand toward her. “Team, meet Specialist Anderson and Sergeant Agar. They will be with us on this mission tonight.”
All eyes turned to the only female in the room.
T-Mac’s pulse quickened. He’d never been on a mission with a female. Would having a woman in the mix change the dynamics of his team? Not that he was superstitious, but would the others be worried that a woman would jinx their mission?
He glanced around the room at the others’ gazes. For the most part, they appeared more curious than apprehensive.
“Anyone have any issues?” the commander asked.
Specialist Anderson’s chin rose another notch, her gaze sweeping the room full of men, challenging them with just that one look.
Big Jake shrugged. “I’d be glad to have a dog ahead of us. I’ve seen what one can do. They’re pretty amazing.”
“Same,” Buck said. “Rather sniff out the bombs than step on one.”
The rest of the men voiced agreement.
“Then get ready, you leave in—” Commander Ward glanced down at his watch “—one hour.”
T-Mac followed Anderson out of the building. “Do you need help getting ready?” he asked.
“I think I can figure it out,” she said, stepping out smartly and moving toward the containerized living quarters.
Falling in step beside her, T-Mac hustled to keep up. “Is this your first mission outside the wire?” he asked.
She tensed and frowned. “I know my job, and I know what to carry and wear into combat. You don’t have to coddle me because I’m female.”
He held up his hands. “Oh, believe me, I wouldn’t dare do that.” Then he ruined it with a chuckle. “I’d help out the new guy, male or female. I like to come back with all the people we left with intact.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be so defensive.”
“I’m sure you have a right to be.”
She lifted her shoulders and let them drop. “I get tired of people underestimating my abilities just because I’m a woman.”
“I’ve seen you two in action. I have complete confidence in you and Agar.”
The dog lifted his head at the sound of his name and then looked forward again, trotting alongside his handler.
“Well, you don’t have to worry about us. We can handle our job. We’ll keep you and your team safe from explosives.”
“And we’ll do our best to keep you and Agar safe from loose bullets.”
She shot him a hint of a smile. “Thanks.” By then, they were standing in front of her quarters. Specialist Anderson frowned. “I didn’t ask where we should meet.”
T-Mac’s lips twisted. “We’ll be loading up in helicopters. If you like, I can swing by and we can walk over together.”
Her frown cleared. “Thanks. I’d appreciate that.”
“My pleasure,” he said, and left her at her door to hurry toward his own quarters, where he’d gear up for the mission ahead.
In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but worry about the addition to their team. The SEALs trained together. They hadn’t trained with a dog handler working out in front of them. Specialist Anderson and Agar might know what they were doing when it came to sniffing out bombs, but they had no experience in hostile environments.
When T-Mac entered the containerized quarters he shared with Harm, his roommate glanced up from assembling his M4A1 rifle with the SOPMOD upgrade. “Hey, T-Mac.”
“Harm.” T-Mac pulled a hard plastic case out from under his bunk, extracted his rifle and pulled it apart piece by piece. He’d cleaned it after his last mission and had assembled and disassembled it a number of times since. Handling his weapon was second nature.
“Saw you walked the dog handler back to her quarters,” Harm said.
“Yeah.” T-Mac stiffened. “So?”
Without looking up from what he was doing, Harm continued. “You know we were just kidding about fixing you up with a female, right?”
T-Mac snorted. “No. I fully expect you guys to bombard me with women.”
Harm gave a twisted grin. “You’re right. But we’d wait until we got back to the States. What with how touchy folks are about not fraternizing while deployed.”
With a frown, T-Mac shook his head. “If this is about Specialist Anderson, forget it. I only offered to help her get ready for the mission. She hasn’t actually been on one before.”
Harm’s head shot up. “Never?”
His chest tightening, T-Mac pressed his lips together. “Everyone has to have a first time.”
His roommate frowned. “I’d rather it wasn’t with us.”
“Would you rather she went out with some teenaged infantry soldiers who are barely out of boot camp?”
Harm sighed. “I suppose not. But I don’t like the idea of babysitting when we have a mission to accomplish.”
T-Mac pulled the bolt from his weapon, inspected it and shot it back home, reassembling the weapon in record time. “I’d almost rather take my chances with the mines and IEDs than risk losing her and the dog.”
“Not me,” Harm said. “Remember what happened to Roadrunner when he got too far ahead of the rest of us on that extraction mission in Afghanistan?”
T-Mac’s stomach clenched at the memory.
Roadrunner had been point man when he’d stepped on a land mine. Thankfully for Roadrunner, he’d died instantly. The team had been left to pick up the pieces, physically and mentally.
“Hopefully Anderson and Agar know their stuff,” T-Mac muttered.
“Yeah. But they’re all about sniffing out explosives. We have to worry about the snipers. A lot of money goes into training dogs and handlers.”
“And SEALs,” T-Mac reminded him.
Harm nodded. “That’s a given. I’d like to make it back to the States in four days. Talia will be waiting at my apartment. I let her use it for a place to stay while she’s house hunting.”
T-Mac shot a glance toward his teammate. “I thought you two were a thing?”
“We are. But I want her to be sure. Moving from Africa back to the States is a big deal. And dating a SEAL won’t make it much easier.” Harm lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “I don’t want to pressure her. She needs time to make up her own mind and be comfortable with herself.”
“Before she commits to you?”
“Yeah.” Harm grinned. “You know our lives aren’t easy even for us. I want her to know how it is and what she can expect before we tie the knot.”
“What happened to being confirmed bachelors? I thought we were a team. And now you all have women.” T-Mac shook his head. “I don’t get it.”
Harm chuckled, pulled his steel-plated vest out of his go bag and laid it out on his bunk. “You’ll get it when you find the woman who makes you reconsider everything you ever thought to be true.”
“Now you’re starting to sound sappy. I’m not sure I want to find a woman who makes me go soft.” T-Mac strapped a scabbard around his calf and stuck his Ka-Bar knife into it. “Next thing you know, you’ll be second-guessing yourself on the battlefield.”
“Never.” Harm shrugged into his vest and secured several empty magazines into the straps. “Let’s quit flapping our gums and go meet up with your cute dog handler.”
“She’s not my dog handler.”
“No?” Harm gave him a side-eye glance and raised one eyebrow. “Sure looked like it to the rest of us.”
“She’s not my dog handler,” T-Mac insisted, his tone hard, his lips tight.
“Whatever you say.” Harm grabbed his helmet and stepped out of the box. “But between the two of you redheads, you’d make some really cute redheaded babies.”
“She’s not my redhead,” T-Mac said through clenched teeth as he snagged his helmet and followed Harm. “And we’re not having babies.”
“Who’s having babies?” Buck fell in step behind Harm and T-Mac. “If T-Mac is planning on marrying the dog handler, they can start their own ginger basketball team. Or hockey team. Or whatever team they want. They’d all be gingers.”
“We’re not getting married. She’s not my dog handler, and I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t say anything around her about babies and basketball teams.” T-Mac picked up the pace, hoping that by walking faster, his teammates wouldn’t have the time nor desire to poke fun at him.
Pitbull and Big Jake stepped out of the quarters they shared.
“What’s this about babies and basketball teams?” Pitbull asked. “Is T-Mac marrying his dog handler?”
T-Mac threw his hand in the air. “She’s not my dog handler.”
Big Jake chuckled. “I think he protests too much. I swear I saw something between the two of them.”
“You can’t see something that wasn’t there.” T-Mac sighed. “I get it. This is all part of razzing me because I choose to stay a bachelor and have my pick of women out there while you losers commit to being with one woman for the rest of your lives. I think I have the better deal.”
“What deal?” Diesel jogged to catch up to the team. “What did I miss?”
“T-Mac’s met his match,” Buck said.
T-Mac gritted his teeth. “I didn’t.”
“His dog handler?” Diesel guessed.
“She’s not my dog handler.” T-Mac might as well have been talking to a wall.
“Oh, he’s going to fall hard,” Diesel said. “She’s got attitude and a dog. A killer combination. What’s not to love about that?”
“I’m not in love. She’s not my handler, and I don’t even think the dog likes me.” He glanced toward the container where Specialist Anderson was staying and debated walking past and letting her find her own way to where the helicopters were parked. But he’d promised to walk with her. He slowed, hoping the rest of the team would walk on without questioning why he was stopping.
But he knew them better than that. They weren’t stupid and they would figure it out pretty quickly.
“Look, guys, could you be serious for once?” He turned and raised his hand to knock on the door.
All five of his friends came to a complete stop.
T-Mac groaned as the door opened.
Agar came out first and immediately sniffed T-Mac’s crotch.
A rumble of chuckles sounded behind T-Mac.
“I guess the dog likes you after all,” Buck muttered.
More chuckles sounded.
Heat rose up T-Mac’s neck into his cheeks as he glanced up at Specialist Anderson. “Don’t listen to anything these yahoos say. They’re all full of... Well, they’re full of it, anyway.”
KINSLEY TORE HER gaze away from the SEAL standing in front of her looking all hot and incredibly sexy in his combat gear. Beyond Petty Officer McGuire stood five of the other men who’d been in the command center minutes before. She stepped out of the doorway, looped the strap of her rifle over her shoulder and double-wrapped the dog’s lead around her hand. “What am I not supposed to listen to them about?”
“Tell her, T-Mac,” one of them encouraged.
“We don’t have time for games,” McGuire said. “We have a mission to accomplish before we head home.”
“You’re heading home?” Kinsley asked.
“Four days and a wakeup,” the tallest of the group answered.
“Where’s home?” Kinsley fell in step with them as they wove their way through the temporary buildings to the landing strip where planes and helicopters parked.
“Little Creek, Virginia,” McGuire answered.
“What about you?” one of the guys asked. “Where is your home base?”
“San Antonio, Texas, was my last PCS assignment,” Kinsley said.
“That’s where they train Military Working Dogs, isn’t it?” McGuire asked. “They have a facility at Lackland Air Force Base. Is that where you and Agar received your training?”
She nodded. “I spent the past year in training.”
“T-Mac says this is your first assignment since training.”
Again, Kinsley nodded. “That’s true. Agar was the best in his class. He could find trace amounts of explosives that none of our own detection equipment could pick up.” She patted the dog’s head. “He’s good at what he does. If there are IEDs or land mines, he’ll prove himself tonight.”
As they reached the helicopters, more SEALs gathered. Ammunition was dispensed. Then it came time for them to load into the helicopters.
Kinsley started for one of the choppers away from McGuire and his group.
The navy commander who’d briefed them caught up to her. “You’re riding in the other bird. Stick with T-Mac. He’ll make sure you’re safe.”
