“I can get us there.” Atlas is rarely cocky, but even I’ll admit his tactical driving skills are on point.
“Just as long as I have the map, right?” I can’t resist the dig at him.
“While you guys bicker, I’m logging off,” Trav says. “Saint, call me when Councilman Rowling is in sight.”
“On it,” Saint says.
“And then there were three,” I say.
“You two aren’t going to have comms sex, are you?” Atlas asks.
“Ooh, I hadn’t even thought of that. Babe, what are you wearing?” I say at the same time Saint says, “No. We’re professional.”
“Mmhmm.” Atlas’s lips purse.
“How many of the team know about us?” I ask.
“Everyone,” Saint says. “That was a fun day, walking into a team meeting where Trav explained the situation and protocol of two teammates dating. He didn’t give names, but it was obvious.”
“And you didn’t tell me because …”
“Uh … because I didn’t?”
“Trouble in paradise already, boys?” Atlas sounds way too amused at that.
“Nope. It’s just interesting to me that I’m only hearing about it now.”
“Are you mad?” Saint asks, his voice suddenly quiet.
Is it weird I find his insecurity cute? “Nah. It’s better they all know, but I thought I would be told when they were going to find out.”
Atlas glances over at me. “Everyone’s supportive of it if that’s what you’re worried about. Trav explained you won’t be put on jobs together.”
“Yet here we are.” I hold out my hands.
“The risk assessment of following a councilman and level of danger showed no threat. It’s the riskier missions Trav’s worried about,” Atlas says.
I nod. “I get that. Intel gathering is the worst.”
“Because you’re not being shot at?”
“Exactly. What is this job without the risk of death?”
Saint clears his throat. “I’m pretty happy to be on this side of things for once.”
“That’s different. That’s you and completely understandable. I need adrenaline.”
“True that,” Saint says. “Okay, Ghost is asking for help on another job, so I’m going mute for a while.”
“We’ll do the same so our chatter isn’t in your ear,” I tell him.
“Kick some councilman ass, baby,” Saint says.
“I wish. We’ll get back in contact when we’re on his tail.”
We all turn our comms to mute, and it doesn’t take long for Atlas to start in on me.
“You two serious, then?”
“You know, we don’t have to do the whole small-talk thing.”
The car swerves. “You … Iris … don’t want to … talk?”
“Yeah, yeah, ha, ha, I normally don’t shut up.”
“I guess you and Saint are serious, then, if you’re not even willing to give me details.”
“We’re not that serious. Not yet. And I don’t want to pressure him, so don’t go saying that shit in front of him, okay?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. Not when I can torture you over it.”
“So much for you being the nice one,” I mumble.
“How’s this for nice? Tapping Danyal Farouk’s electronics was a bust—”
“I think you’ve forgotten the definition of nice.”
“But,” he continues, “Saint tracking the bodyguards’ devices was a smart idea because Trav’s got a lead.”
“Really?”
“It’s not a big one yet, but he has Domino following up on it. It might actually take us straight to Farouk.”
That’s really good news, but at the same time—for personal reasons—it’s not. “Does … Saint know about it?”
“No. Trav’s not counting his chickens. We’re waiting to see what Domino comes up with.”
“Good. I think it might be better for Saint if he doesn’t find out yet.”
“Not handling things well? Is that the real reason he’s been put on comms and not because of your relationship?”
I know Atlas’s heart is in the right place—if it was anyone else on the team, I wouldn’t be sure—but at the same time, I’m uncomfortable talking about Saint’s issues with him when they’re not really my place. “He’s fine, mostly. And Trav’s getting him the help he needs.”
“That’s good to hear. After what he went through … we’ve all seen people crumble under less trauma.”
That’s so heartbreakingly true that it’s depressing. “At least Saint isn’t trying to mask his pain like so many others.”
“Hit us up if he needs anything. All of us will be there for him.”
“I know that, but Saint’s yet to learn how much Mike Bravo is there for each other, so it’s a delicate balance between smothering him with support to the point we make him feel like he’s incompetent and truly letting him know we’re there for him.”
“I won’t push,” Atlas says.
“So what’s our dear councilman up to this time?” I ask.
“It’s an unscheduled trip. He’s supposed to be in Sacramento for some political conference. We need to find out why he’s here, if he’s doing anything he shouldn’t be, and then report back. It’ll be a quick job because he’s apparently going back tonight,” Atlas says.
“What could be so important that he’d fly from Sacramento for a couple of hours?”
“If he’s really pandering to the cartels in Mexico like he’s suspected of doing, it might be a meeting only he can be there for. And it depends on how deep it goes. He might be the only one in on this—”