On Point (Out of Uniform 3)

“Sir—”

“That’s an order, Tovey. Not a suggestion. And if you show up hungover again for duty, we’re going to have a sit-down. You, me, and the DAPA officer, understand?”

“I understand.” Last thing Ben wanted was to be pushed into the substance abuse and rehabilitation program when all he really had was a terminal broken heart.

“I hope you do. You’re one of the best we’ve got, and I value your contributions. Time to pull yourself together, all right?”

“Yes, sir.” Ben tried to sound way more confident than he felt. This was his job. His life, really. The life you chose over Maddox. No, he couldn’t think like that. Maddox was the one who’d done the leaving, not him. And as long as he held tight to that anger, he had a fighting chance of functioning on the mission.

Lecture apparently done, the LT moved on to explaining what he wanted Ben and McGinnis to do that night. They’d be doing reconnaissance, something Ben usually enjoyed. And if the LT got his way, later in the training, the kid would get a chance to show if he was the crack shot everyone kept raving about. But that left Ben as his babysitter for the next six to eight hours. Joy.

McGinnis was young. Like a baby really, fresh out of BUD/S and the SDQ training that followed and probably around twenty. Apparently, he’d proven himself handy with a sniper rifle, which was why they’d landed him. The replacement.

Ben had disliked him on sight, from the tip of his copper-colored hair to his oversize feet. And all the swagger and confidence the kid had in between didn’t help matters any. He was taller than Ben, but not quite Maddox’s height, and still had the gangly joints of a guy growing into his body.

And he chattered. Endlessly. “This is awesome, right? Getting to test the new night vision equipment again? Last time was a blast, but now we get to play out a hostage scenario—”

“Calm down before you strain something,” Ben cut him off. They were hiking, under cover of darkness to a ridge, where they’d be watching and gathering intel on the “hostiles”—a group of Marines pretending to hold their other new guy, Erickson, hostage.

“They warned me about you.” McGinnis didn’t lose an ounce of good humor. “Dude, this is fun—”

“And deadly serious.”

When was the last time he’d been all eager like this kid? This guy couldn’t wait to be deployed, couldn’t contain himself from glee at being out in the field. He loved everything about training too—Ben had yet to hear him complain, even on a grueling run earlier in the week.

Ben fiddled with his new night vision goggles. They really were light years better than the ones he’d trashed in the jungle on the last mission. And yeah, if he pushed past his black mood, he could maybe call this fun. Or at least the old him would have. The him that still gave a shit before Maddox ripped out his heart.

Maddox.

He’s been unhappy. Ben’s dad’s words rang in his ears. Had Ben missed it? They’d both been like McGinnis once upon a time. But when had Maddox lost that joy in the job? Why hadn’t Ben seen it? Why hadn’t he noticed it in time to fix it?

Better question, when had Ben himself lost some of McGinnis’s spark? Probably around the time you got all caught up in feelings for your best friend. Everything had gotten weird after he’d moved in with Maddox. He’d been cranky from the divorce, then conflicted because of his attraction, then guilty because of his actions—hadn’t left much room for joy. Or noticing how unhappy Maddox might have been.

“I’m going to fit in. You’ll see.” McGinnis’s voice had a hard edge to it as they started up a steeper section of trail. “I know you don’t think much of me, don’t think I can make it—”

“Didn’t say that.” Damn. The LT was right about the kid getting a complex because of Ben’s raging case of asshole-itis. “Don’t know you yet. That’s all. Do your job, keep your head down, and your mouth shut, and you’ll fit in just fine.”

“They talk about you, you know?” McGinnis clearly wasn’t going to listen to the mouth shut business. “At BUD/S. They still talk about some of the stuff you did. And everyone heard about you rescuing that other SEAL in the jungle. That was some real badass stuff right there.”

“It’s all talk.” Ben waved off the praise. Only thing worse than the kid thinking he had it in for him would be him getting a misplaced case of hero worship. Ben was no one’s hero. “Anyone would have done the same. You too. We don’t leave men behind.”

“I know. That’s what I told my girl when I told her about your rescue. Not to worry because SEALs don’t leave guys behind. She’s still worried.”