Page 63 of Broken Trust
His CO didn’t sit, just leaned against the desk, arms still crossed.
Here it comes.
Con opened his mouth, but a knock stopped the words before he could speak. “Yeah?” he called out.
The door swung inward, and Sophie and Dante stood in the opening.
“Can we interrupt?” Sophie asked, but she was already walking in. Dante followed, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.
Sophie took the chair near the window and Dante perched on the arm of the leather sofa.
Mason’s hairline beaded with perspiration, and his unease tripled. As in triple the people teaming up on him.
“You’re too close to this.” Con didn’t bother with a warmup—he got straight to the gut punch.
He forced himself not to bristle, shoving any emotions he had on the topic off his face. Any look could be construed as disrespect. And that was the last thing he felt.
“I can do my job. Sir.” He steeled his muscles to ward off the cramp in his gut. But if Con threw him off the op, he’d blatantly disobey an order.
Con’s stare drilled into him. “Can you?” His voice was level and calm. Which somehow made everything worse. “Where I’m sitting, you’re about to walk into a hostile meeting with a woman you have feelings for. That’s a problem.”
Mason’s jaw popped from clenching it so hard. The tendon was screaming from strain. “I won’t let it be a problem.”
It never had been a problem for him to do his duty. Two years before, Mason’s CO didn’t have a clue what was going on between him and Elin. Therefore, he never got the opportunity to sideline him.
Con had already guessed how Mason felt even though he’d never said it aloud. Hell, he’d never spoken the words to Elin either.
He needed to say it. As soon as possible. Today. Now.
Tomorrow was too late. Time was running out, the clock ticking.
Con studied him for a long beat of silence that seemed to echo in Mason’s bones.
Sophie shifted in her chair. “You wouldn’t have let anyone else watch out for me.” Sophie’s soft tone was layered with an argument and amusement.
Con shot her a sideways glance. “I’m the team leader. What I say is final.”
Mason locked his gaze on his leader’s. “Dante. Back me up here.”
Dante held up both hands. “Oh no. I’m staying out of this.”
“Then send Dante in Elin’s place.”
Dante leaned back, casual as hell despite the tension crackling through the room. “I’m more than willing. But Elin’s better than me when it comes to hacking. I’m not ashamed to admit she’s the best I’ve ever seen. She can get in and out faster than I—”
“When it comes to codes and backdoors and firewalls,” he bit across him with a slash of his hand. “Notin the field.”
Dante raised his hands again. “You want to be there watching over her. I get it. Can you keep a clear head? I’m not sure.”
Mason issued a low growl. “Did you when it came to Kennedy?”
“I plead the fifth. I’m not saying anything that might land me on bathroom duty again. I still haven’t gotten the smell of bleach off my hands.” Not long ago, Steele dragged Dante into assisting him with a plot to save Izzy, landing them both on bathroom duty for a month.
“Cover your own ass, then,” he tossed out. “I don’t need you to have my six on this because I already know I can keep my emotions out of it.” He shifted his gaze from Dante to Sophie, who looked sympathetic, to finally fix on Con. “I’m going with her.”
No one spoke. What felt like an eternity passed. Voices drifted to them, the low tone of teasing followed by a laugh. In another part of the base, Elin was preparing herself to meet with the cohort of one of the most renowned terrorists the world had ever seen.
No matter what Kent’s role, Cipher was calling the shots. And if he came at Elin, Mason would be there to stop him.
