Page 52 of Flint's Battle

She huffed. “I hate not being directly involved.”

He palmed her cheek. “I know.”

She nuzzled into his touch. “Deal. But no backing out because you’re afraid I’ll break.”

“Promise.” He dipped down — kissed her. “Sleep. This ends tonight.”

CHAPTER 16

Midnight.

And no sign of the men. Just shadows and rain — some fog rolling in off the ocean.

They’d show. Flint knew it. Felt it. Like another premonition in the SEAL part of his brain. A foreshadowing that one way or another, it would end here. Tonight.

Flint glanced over at Snider. The man hadn’t said more than a few words since they’d shown up on his doorstep, Emery leading the way. She’d gone inside alone for several minutes, then returned and waved them in. Snider had eyed each of the seven men, focusing on Flint once they others had fanned out around his living room. Snider hadn’t questioned him, but the man had made it clear he expected Flint to rise to all of his expectations. Like the night Flint had backed up Emery.

Emery had kept true to her promise, only staying long enough for the men to settle in — set up different vantage points — before leaving with her brother. Sure, she’d given Flint one hell of a soul-searing kiss. But she hadn’t tried to sway him.

He loved that about her. That she trusted him enough to finish the mission for her when he knew it was tearing her up inside.

“O’Connell.”

Flint glanced over his shoulder at Ted Lewis. One of the tactical guys Milligan had picked to be part of the impromptu JSOC crew Porter had created. Flint didn’t have all the details, only that the three officers were needed to keep Flint and his buddy’s asses out of jail when the night inevitably ended bloody. “Lewis.”

Lewis made a point of sweeping the room before motioning toward the factory. “It’s midnight and a storm has pushed in. No one’s showing up, now.”

Flint gave his teammates a quick side eye, noting similar clenched jaws and furrowed brows. “Maybe. Or maybe they’ll use the storm as cover. Regardless, we’re not bugging out, yet. So, get comfortable.”

Lewis pushed out his chest. “This isn’t a SEAL mission and you’re not in charge.”

“You’re right because if this were a SEAL mission, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. So, feel free to leave if that’s your prerogative. I’m sure Milligan will understand.”

“Milligan would have cleared us out an hour ago.”

“Not this time.”

“You don’t?—”

“Movement.”

Flint turned as Carter’s voice sounded through the room. Calm. Determined. The easy familiarity of it drowning out any doubts that they’d been wrong.

He moved over to the telescope, taking a turn peering through.

Two vehicles rolling down the road. No headlights. Only the occasional glint off a distant streetlight giving them away. They turned into the lot, parking where that hatchback had been the other night.

He straightened, giving Bowie a turn.

“That’s definitely our guys. Looks like they switched out the panel vans for a more government agency vibe.” Bowie glanced at Flint. “Curious that they’d do that tonight when we’re planning a raid.”

“Isn’t it though.” Flint stared out the window toward the factory. “You thinking ten tangos based on how low those Suburbans are riding?”

“Make that fifteen. Third bogey just pulled up. And these guys aren’t playing. They’ve got night vision, body armor. AR-15s. What looks like grenades on their vests.”

Carter took a look. “That kind of armor will slow them down. But it’ll take more punishment than most. Quinn? How are you feeling about that overwatch with the fog and rain kicking up?”

“We haven’t been on leave that long, brother.”

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