Page 64 of Broken Trust
Holding Con’s stare, he narrowed his eyes a fraction. “I’m the best man you’ve got for this op and you know it.”
Dante rested his elbows on his knees. “He’s got you there, Con.”
One supporter in his corner. Mason eyed Sophie. “Sophie? You back me?”
“No one can argue you’re the best at getting in and out like a ghost. But…”
Con jerked his stare to her. “But?”
Her tone came out soft. “The last op you two were on ended differently than you could have imagined. Could you be trying to prove something to yourself?”
Mason didn’t answer—couldn’t answer.
Because maybe she was right. Maybe this was about proving he could keep Elin safe this time…to prove to them both that he wouldn’t fail her again.
He drew his shoulders back and fixed his stare on his commanding officer. “I will ensure Elin gets the intel from Kent’s system. I will ensure she can get the names of the eleven handlers. And I will get her home. Safe.”
He almost winced.Home.Fuck. He’d all but mentally moved her into the mansion because he long ago moved her into his heart.
Con studied him long enough that Mason’s pulse kicked up.
“Fine.”
Mason’s relief was short-lived.
“But if this goes sideways, if she’s in danger and you freeze—”
“I won’t.”
“You can’t afford to be distracted.” Con’s voice dropped, hard and cold. “Because if you do, people die. Not just Elin.”
“I won’t be.”
Con straightened, a sure sign that his decision was made, and now they were moving on to the details. “Chopper arrives in three hours. That gives you three hours to prep.”
Three hours before they flew to Washington, DC. Before they met Kent.
Three hours to get his head straight and lock down his feelings.
He loved Elin so damn much he couldn’t see straight, but where the mission was concerned, emotions didn’t exist.
Con was watching him with something that might have been understanding. After all, he’d die for Sophie.
“Before you go talk to Elin, I need you to do a supply check. Make sure we have everything we need for the op. Comms, backup weapons, extraction gear.”
His jaw tightened. Any other SEAL on the team could do it, but Con was making sure he remained distanced from his emotions until this was over.
“Yes, sir,” Mason bit out even when it felt like his chest was caving in.
In three hours, they’d be in the air. In four, they’d be face-to-face with a man who was desperate to save himself.
Burning with frustration, he walked out of the office. His feet carried him toward the armory. He moved on autopilot, checking equipment and counting magazines. His hands knew the work, but his mind was on a woman with intelligent green eyes, who had trusted him once and paid for it.
A woman who was walking into danger in three hours, goddammit.
Mason slammed a magazine onto the counter. The sound echoed through the empty armory.
He braced his hands on the edge, dropping his head.
