Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
If Spencer mentioned them prominently in the book promotion, they could help save more vets, prevent more young widows and widowers. And more than any fundraising, if his book raised consciousness, made people see the scope of the problem, maybe they could finally get real momentum for change.
Del will hate it, a voice in his head reminded him. And yeah, in an ideal world, he’d talk this through with him first, but that just wasn’t feasible or practical. It could be months before he heard from his guy. And like it or not, Del really was his guy now. He wasn’t remotely tempted to go get laid, even though the wait could drag on without an end date.
He’d been separated from Greg for long swathes of their relationship, but it had been different because he’d been able to follow him, a long trail of news stories and late-night phone calls. This solitary business sucked, and he had a new sympathy for military families. Having only paper-thin optimism and longing for company was hard. And wasn’t that part of why he had to write this book? All the military families out there struggling quietly. All the separations that Caroline had endured only to end up losing Harry forever anyway.
And given the gravity of others’ situations, Spencer moaning about missing Del for a few weeks felt supremely shallow.
Maybe it won’t be forever, that same voice suggested. Del had friends in private security now. Maybe he’d be interested in doing the same. And then Spencer could have both: him and the book. Could keep the most important thing in his life and not let Harry down. It was a plan made out of little more than straw and hope, but it was what he had, what he clung to as he finally typed out a reply to his agent.
* * *
“This one’s going to be hard.” The LT shook his head with a seriousness Bacon had seldom seen from the man. Which was saying something as he could count on his fingers the number of smiles he’d seen from the man.
“I’m ready,” Bacon assured him. They were in a mission-planning room at the forward base, and the leadership team was explaining exactly what they’d be needing his sniper expertise for. He was back on Team Alpha, and taking out a key terrorist mastermind was a big part of their current strategy to disrupt this terror cell.
“I have no doubt you are,” the LT assured him, a rare hit of confidence from his hard-nosed leader. “But this... They keep recruiting younger and younger, you know?” He slid a blurry photograph toward Bacon. “This is your target.”
“But...” Bacon blinked, looking down at the picture. The slender face was so young he couldn’t even make a guess at gender identity.
“Our intel is watertight on their high-level involvement in the embassy bombing. Explosives skills rivaling our spec ops guys, and apparently a genius leader to boot.”
“Wow.” Bacon’s mouth opened and closed a number of times, not sure what else to say. This was his job, and he had no choice but to follow his orders. He knew damn well the LT was right—the terror cells kept recruiting members who were little more than kids, using their youth as a strategic advantage.
“Can we count on you?” The LT leaned forward, eyes boring into Bacon’s.
“Yes, sir,” Bacon said, because it really was the only answer. But his stomach churned. Unbidden, an image of Spencer’s face crept into his mind. Spencer traveled, quite extensively. What if he were in the vicinity of the next terrorist bombing? And not just Spencer—Curly’s fiancée, Rachel, was a flight attendant now. So many people he cared about at risk, not to mention his SEAL team. If Bacon didn’t take that shot, if he wavered at all, the risk to his team soared. The chances of them recovering the biological weapon would drop with each second he hesitated. So when he nodded, repeating his acceptance of the mission, he did so knowing that his full buy-in was utterly crucial.
But deep inside, he knew the LT was right. This one was going to leave a scar.
* * *
It was a Tuesday morning when Spencer’s phone chimed with the special ring tone he’d assigned Del in a fit of loneliness.
Tell me you want company tonight. On our way back, and I need to see you in the worst way. Sorry for the no notice. No phone access until literally moments ago. Sorry.
Spencer’s heart flopped about, so many emotions swamping him—relief chiefly, but also something infinitely tender that he wasn’t ready to name. There was only one reply he was capable of typing.
Don’t apologize. Just happy to have you back. Want to meet halfway or even in San Diego? I could come to you.
Del’s reply chimed a few minutes later. Need the drive to clear my head. That and your shower and you are all I need, but if you wanted to make that tart for dessert, I’d love you forever.