Page 12 of SEAL's Sky
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. She looked scared and lost when I saw her. She was probably just nervous about meeting you.”
“Gotcha. All right, I’ll be right back with your food and more beer.”
“What the fuck was that?” Jake asked as he gave Murph the hairy eyeball. “And what did I miss?”
Before Murph could answer, Ryan filled Jake in on Murph’s interaction with Sky earlier. He appeared to really enjoy telling him how she blew him off. Then finished up with his idea that her hair color was like the ice cream and how ironic that her real name was Sky. It was a good thing they were family, the only one he had left, or he’d kick his ass.
“What’s bugging you, Murph?” Jake asked.
“I’m not sure. My gut is telling me I know her and that she’s in trouble. But I have no idea why.”
Jake nodded but didn’t say anything at first, just seemed to consider what he’d been told. There was a reason he’d reached the rank of master chief. Calm, cool, and collected didn’t even begin to describe him. In all the years Murph knew him, he’d never seen him lose it, no matter how bad shit got, not even after they’d returned home. He was as rock-solid as they got and had a knack for figuring shit out when no one else could. Murph often wondered if after Jake retired he’d go to work for one of the alphabet agencies.
“What do you want to do about it?” Jake asked Murph after a couple of moments.
“I don’t have a fucking clue. Keep trying to figure out what’s bugging me, I guess.”
Jake nodded but didn’t respond since Pam was back with their food and more beer.
“I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.”
Pam’s attitude was part of what was bugging him. They’d known her for years, and he couldn’t remember a day when Pam wasn’t working at the Ready Room. There had been speculation for years that she was the owner, but no one could get her to admit to it. One of the other teams' guys had even looked it up but it was owned by some corporation no one knew anything about.
Murph would bet Tex could figure it out in about ten minutes, but it wasn’t worth bothering him over. But Sky was another story, he had no problem contacting him if he couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding that caused the little hairs on the back of his neck to tingle.
“Did anyone else get a good look at her?” Jake asked.
“I didn’t,” Rafe responded.
“I could identify her but as for a good look, not really. I didn’t look closely enough for the details, I thought he was just hitting on another woman,” Ryan said before shoving an overloaded nacho chip into his mouth.
“Me either, sorry, Boss,” Cam said.
Murph watched as he grabbed one of the nacho chips and brushed everything off onto the plate in front of him then fed it to Halo. It made him smile for the first time since getting there that evening. Maybe he was being too intense. Letting his exhaustion and frustration over not catching Azfaar get to him.
He reached for some of the nachos and added a couple of wings on his plate. Then he took the liberty of topping everyone's beer off with the pitcher. These were some of the best wings, and he’d sampled them just about everywhere in the U.S.
“I think, if you can let it go for now, then do it. I’m not telling you to ignore your instincts. But until something happens there’s not much we can do now.”
“Okay.” Murph was frustrated. Just because Jake was right, he didn’t have to like it. He’d have to wait and see what happens.
“But, if you still feel strongly about this tomorrow, we’ll give Tex a call with the information we have and see what he finds out.”
“Copy that.”
“Oh and the captain called, after PT in the morning we have more intel to review.”
“Are we going?” Cam asked after he swallowed the chicken drumette he’d sucked off the bone in one bite.
“It’ll be a toss-up between us and the Red Falcon Team. But I’m not sure they’ll send anyone if we can’t get a better confirmation.”
Nodding in agreement, they ate in companionable silence, until Rafe and Jake fought over the last wing.
“Drop it, it’s mine,” Jake demanded while he attempted to hide his smile.
“No way, possession is nine-tenths of the law,” Rafe said.
“I don’t care about possession, I outrank you, sailor, so step away from the wing.”
