Page 158 of What Remains

“You knew how I felt even before I did,” she murmurs, still fisting my vest.

“Pretty sure your dad knew before I did.”

Before I say something reckless, I kiss her one last time. From the corner of my eye, I catch Wyatt squaring up next to us.

Wonderful.

She quietly trades places with him.

“Hope you’re not expecting a kiss goodbye, too,” I mutter.

“Just make it back alive, will ya? And with Julian,” he says evenly. “She can’t carry the weight of him dying.”

I’ll never let that happen. “Plan on it.” I swap my ball cap for my helmet, flip my NODs up for now, and sling my rifle properly across my chest.

He rests a hand on my shoulder. “And I assume you have something to ask me when you get back.”

My pulse spikes at what he’s suggesting. “I should probably date her first.” I smirk.

“Yeah, well, I know the kind of man you are. You like to check off every box well in advance.” He grips my shoulder tighter. “Just make sure that conversation with me stays at the top of your list.”

You know what, screw it. If not now, when, right? “So . . . how would you feel about me marrying your daughter?”

His grip doesn’t loosen, but he does go quiet for the longest few seconds of my life. Then, in a strained voice, he rasps, “Nothing would make me happier than walking her down the aisle to you.”

The air leaves my lungs in a slow cloud.

He leans in slightly. “If you wouldn’t mind waiting a little bit to make me a grandfather, though, I’d appreciate it.”

I would laugh if I wasn’t so shocked, but a light huff does escape through my barely parted lips. I clear my throat, trying to work down the emotions locked there.

I nod my OK back but talk about checking off the box of all damn boxes.

Wyatt Pierson granting me permission to both marry his daughter and . . .

He removes his hand from my shoulder and steps aside. After one more not-a-goodbye-goodbye with Gwen, I secure my night vision in place with a surprisingly steady hand, then we roll out.

I have to rely on muscle memory to carry my ass forward, because my head is still lost somewhere between shock and a string of thank fucks.

It’s a decent hike through uneven ground and slick terrain before the facility comes into full view. Surface structures sit quiet. No visible movement. No thermal signatures aboveground. That means everything is below, as we predicted.

“Alpha ready,” Carter says low over comms.

“Foxtrot set,” Gideon answers.

I seal in place my in-ear comm device, which has built-in hearing protection, before we stack on the perimeter entrance. There’s reinforced concrete and a recessed blast door.

“Alpha One. Breachers up.”

Constantine sets the charge and transmits, “Stand by.”

The blast hits as a muted thump through my ear pro. It punches inward, tearing steel and concrete.

“Go. Go,” Carter orders.

Alpha flows through the opening. Carter first, Constantine on my right, and Jesse at my left. Gray’s rear security with Sebastian and Foxtrot just behind.

The IR lasers that are invisible to the naked eye, slice forward under night vision as Carter reports, “Alpha inside.”