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“Elena,” Willa said, turning from her computer station to face her. “You had a message alert pop up on Cryptocat. Otherwise, it’s been quiet. You okay? You’re looking a little pale.”

“I’m fine, thanks. Just low on sleep. I’ll take over if you want to catch a break.”

“I’m not going to turn that down,” Willa said, grinning. “Did you see all of those SEALs that Brock brought to the complex? Yum, yum. It’s like Christmas around here whenever the SEALs go on leave and decide to do their extra training here.”

“Be careful,” Elena said, raising a brow. “Those are the kind of men where it’s easy to bite off more than you can chew.”

“Sugar, I hope so,” Willa said, winking. “I have no intention of settling down anytime soon. I’ve got work I love, my son, and a stable life for him thanks to Atticus and my Uncle Nate. I plan on taking advantage of the perks. God wouldn’t put men like that on this planet if he didn’t want a woman to appreciate the creation.”

Elena wasn’t a hundred percent sure how to answer that. She spent most of her time avoiding looking at men.

“Be careful,” Elena called out as the door closed behind Willa, leaving her alone.

She scrolled through the computer network’s screen before she located the red marker in her encrypted messaging service. She used Cryptocat as a way of communicating with the Dynamis agents, but seldom any time other than that.

She typed in her password, and then waited to be connected.

The door beeped as someone scanned their badge at the door, and Elena figured Willa must have forgotten something. The door swung open and she was surprised to see Brock there.

“Hey,” he said. “Am I interrupting?”

“No,” she said. “Of course not.” And then she saw Atticus step in behind him and she froze. She hadn’t had enough time to work off her anger and disappointment from their meeting. She needed some space before she could make any decisions about her future.

But she owed Atticus her life, and she’d never forget it.

“I’m sorry I lost my temper during the briefing,” she told him. “It won’t happen again.”

“Actually,” he said, “it doesn’t change the circumstances, but it was nice to see. I wanted to tell you that Nick and I are leaving for South Africa. We’ll be connecting with one of our foreign security teams currently working in the Middle East. These contractors will connect with us in Mogadishu. We’ll send an advance team into the region south of the port of bananas just in case we get a lead on where my men are.”

“Port of bananas?” Elena asked. She was familiar with the region and she’d never heard of that one before.

“That’s what they call the big shipping region at the Port of Merca,” Brock interjected, cracking a smile.

Atticus’s face was humorless. “I need you to coordinate a secure location for us to bunk and establish an operations command center.”

“I can do that.” Elena scribbled notes on her day planner. “Anything else?”

“Not unless you want to go explain to my wife why I’m having to leave the country for an unknown amount of time to fix this mess.” He attempted to lighten the mood. “She pines away without me.” He saluted his goodbye and shut the door behind him.

Elena didn’t crack a smile. She’d gotten to know Sabrina Cameron over the last three years. She was the Chief Medical Officer for Dynamis, and she was a stickler for regular medical screenings for every employee, from top agents to those who cleaned the offices and apartments. And though she knew she missed her husband when he was away on business—and often traveled with him—the woman was more than busy in her own right and had little time to pine away.

Elena couldn’t hold back the tears that had been building since things had gone so wrong with the mission, and she quickly turned away from Brock so he didn’t see them.

“Elena,” he said, coming up behind her. She could feel his presence, but he didn’t touch her. No one ever touched her.

And then he did the unexpected. His hands lightly caressed her arms. She shuddered and panic wanted to fill her, but she took a breath and stared at his reflection in the computer screen. If she saw his face she wouldn’t think of the other faceless men who’d left bruises where Brock now stroked.

She slowly started to relax, and she let the heat of his hands seep into her.

“You can’t let him get to you,” Brock said. “He’s taking this hard. I’ve known Atticus a long time, and he feels responsible for every life under his command.”

“Of course,” she said. The guilt was eating her up. “He has every right to feel that way. I screwed up. I understand.”

“I don’t think you do,” he said.

She moved out of his hold and was able to breathe steadily again. It had been quite a day, and she was hanging on by a thread. She needed a good workout, something that would leave her so exhausted she wouldn’t be able to help but sleep.

But first she had to get rid of Brock.