Jake had kind of hoped it would be never.
So much for hoping.
“Permission to speak freely, sir.”
Jake looked from Harvard to all four of the lieutenants, and then at the enlisted men. They were all there but Zoe. She wasn’t part of this. Or maybe the men had intentionally excluded her.
“This isn’t a democracy, Senior,” Jake said mildly.
“At least hear us out, Admiral.” Admiral. When Billy called him admiral, it meant he was dead serious.
Jake sighed. “I don’t need to hear you out,” he said. “You don’t think I’m up for this. You think it’s been too long since I’ve seen action, since I’ve been out in the real world. You don’t think I can keep up, despite the fact that every time we’ve run together, you’ve had to fight to keep up with me.”
“This is different than running, and you know it,” Billy said. “Yes, you’re physically fit for—” He broke off.
Jake bristled. “Go on, say it. For an old man. Right?”
“Jake, I love you, and I’m worried about you,” Billy said, cutting through to the bottom line, the way he always did so well. “I don’t know why you’re doing this when any one of us could find a way to get inside the CRO—”
“Because I can walk through those gates in the morning,” Jake told Billy, told them all, “and have dinner at Christopher Vincent’s private dining table by night. If you or Cowboy or Lucky were to go in there, God knows how many months it would take you to work your way up to just being able to stand guard outside the dining room door.”
He looked them all directly in the eyes, one at a time. Billy. Cowboy. Mitch. Lucky. Harvard. Bobby. Wes. “We don’t have months, gentlemen. The CRO could decide to do a test run of the Triple X at any time, in any city.” They all had family, friends living all over the country, and his unspoken message cut through, loud and clear. Until they regained possession of the T-X, no one was safe.
Jake shouldered his bag of gear. “Now, who’s taking Mitch and me to the airport?”
THE AIR FORCE FLIGHT TO South Dakota seemed to take forever.
Mitch slept for most of it, only waking as they began their descent.
Jake was sick and tired of thinking about the way his team had questioned his plan. He’d worked hard over the past week to gain their respect. He’d thought his physical stamina, his ability to run hard and fast, had won them over. Obviously, he’d been wrong.
His team thought of him as an old man.
He wished Billy was with him instead of Mitch. He’d wanted to talk to the kid about Zoe, find out if he was shocked by Jake’s intention to pretend he and the young doctor were romantically involved.
But Jake’s plan had called for one of the SEALs to wind up arrested, thrown into jail for conspiracy and charges of aiding and abetting the escape of a suspected felon. Both Mitch and Billy had volunteered, but Jake knew that playing this role would be hitting a little too close to home for the kid. It hadn’t been that long since Billy had spent time in prison, facing very similar charges for real.
So Jake was here on the plane with Mitchell Shaw. A man he’d always thought of as a friend.
A man who—just a few hours ago—had lined up with the rest of the team and questioned Jake’s command.
Right now, CNN was announcing a late-breaking story of conspiracy and intrigue in the U.S. military. As the story went, Admiral Jake Robinson had escaped from house arrest. He’d been confined to his quarters after being charged with conspiracy, allegedly leaking top secret military information to several extreme right-wing state militia groups. Those militia groups had been lobbying for fewer federal regulations, less control by the federal government. Allegedly there were tapes, and the words Jake had spoken could be interpreted as treasonous.
The military had been attempting to keep the entire affair from the public eye, since as an admiral in the U.S. Navy, Robinson should have been among the staunchest defenders of the federal government. But four days ago, as the story went, Robinson had escaped his guards with the help of three unidentified men, and now the incident was national news.
All four of the men were currently at large.
To help this cover story along, Mitch and Jake were going to be spotted in South Dakota, and Mitch was going to be apprehended while Jake once again made an escape.
Jake was then going to proceed, by car and on foot, to Montana, leaving a trail that the CRO could trace if they tried. And they would try—particularly after he showed up on their doorstep, seeking asylum.
Within a few days, CNN would stop carrying the story—Admiral Mac Forrest would see to that. And after several weeks of hiding in the CRO compound, Jake would be able to leave hiding and venture into town.
And then he’d see Zoe again.
Zoe. Who’d liked the way he’d kissed her.
Mitch shifted his jaw, expertly popping his ears as the plane continued its descent.
“Hey, Mitch,” Jake said.
“Yes, sir?”
“No,” he said, “not sir. I’ve got something I need to discuss, and I need you to talk to me as a friend.”
Mitch nodded, completely serene. “I’ll do my best.”
“It’s about—”
“Zoe.” Mitch nodded. “I figured you were going to say something. I’m sorry if I got in your way. I honestly didn’t think you were interested in her—you’ve been avoiding her all week.” He smiled slightly. “You know, Jake, I’ve found it’s far easier to get a woman into your bed if you actually interact with her.”
“I don’t want to get her into my …” He couldn’t finish the sentence—it wasn’t true. He exhaled noisily in exasperation. “God, she’s too young for me. How could I even be thinking about that?”
“She doesn’t think she’s too young.” Mitch smiled again. “I’ve been hanging out with her. Telling her stories about you. She’s yours if you want her, Admiral. And if you don’t, I’m hoping I might be next in line.”
Jake had to know. “She’s beautiful and she’s smart and she’s very sexy, but … you’ve had the opportunity to meet plenty of beautiful, smart, sexy women, and as far as I’ve seen, you’ve never given any of them a second glance. So why Zoe? What is it about her?”
Mitch gazed thoughtfully out the window at the approaching runway for several long moments. “She’s one of us,” he said simply, turning to look at Jake. “I get the sense that she wants the things I want from a relationship—no strings, no promises, no regrets. Just good, clean, healthy fun. Sex that’s just that—sex. No more, no less.” He laughed softly. “To be painfully honest, Jake, I tend to stay away from most women because I’m afraid of hurting them when I leave. And you know in our line of work, we always leave. We disappear on some assignment,
