Colin found a hotel near base that met his needs and had space, and he checked in. He called Bradley to let him know he'd returned from his training mission, which he half suspected was a hazing trip for either him or Miazga or both. Then he took the third longest shower of his life.

He'd been in worse situations. He'd doubtless go into worse situations with his new "teammates" in the near future. He hoped none of those situations would make him feel as dirty as he did right now.

He missed Ed. Before, whenever he got home from an assignment, he could call Ed. They could trade war stories and decompress or commiserate. That was all gone now, though. Colin could call some of his omega buddies, but he didn't know any who were in the same line of work. He could call some of his journalist buddies, but none of them were omegas.

So he curled up in his bed with his laptop and typed up his notes from the outing. It was the only thing he could think of to do. Halfway through his note taking he got a text from DeWitt letting him know the team generally got the day after a training job like that off. He thanked the man and kept working.

He thought he should be grateful for the respite. The SEAL training was the most intense workout he'd ever put himself through, and he should appreciate having a day off to relax and recover. Instead, he could only think about the prospect of spending the day alone, in Ed's new hometown.

He did let himself sleep in. Track and then work had forced early mornings upon him, but he wasn't a morning person by nature. Few omegas were. Their bodies craved the comfort of a nice warm bed, preferably with someone in it, and Colin was no different. Once he got up, he forced himself to run and then he got back to work.

He drafted a feature piece about Miazga's first couple of weeks with the team. It wasn't exactly the hardest hitting piece of journalism he'd ever done, but he liked the idea. He'd had a notion in the back of his head of profiling all of the SEALs, but he'd abandoned that plan when the team pitched their shit fit about his presence. Just profiling Miazga would make for good copy, though. The American public was hungry for stories about heroes these days. They wanted to know who these men were, when they weren't out there being warriors. A young guy like Miazga was perfect fodder for that, and he'd make the unit look good too.

When he'd gotten far enough with his draft to put it aside for editing, he turned his attention to some questions that had come up with his story about the Baltimore bombing. Something about that bombing hadn't seemed right.

Well, for one thing, representatives from the area kept trying to spin it as a gas leak, just like the Douglass University bombing and the Orlando bombing.

Actually, that wasn't true. Both state and national representatives from Baltimore called it what it was. They openly referred to it as a bombing, and they were castigated publicly by those peers in high places who sided with the people who insisted on accidental causes for the explosions. The senator from Virginia, Hercules Cook, even attempted to have the representative from the Baltimore congressional district prosecuted for terrorism on the grounds that calling it a bomb "created a panic."

That couldn't be a coincidence. There had to be a story there. Of course, if a man looked hard enough, he could find evidence of just about anything, anywhere. Was Colin seeing a conspiracy that wasn't there, just because he didn't want to think about the rift with Ed?

Did he have anything better to do? And could it really hurt to poke around while he sat in his hotel room?

You could go out. You could go to a bar, find someone appealing, and screw his brains out. You could go to a movie. When's the last time you went to a movie, huh? Who cares that you'd be going by yourself?

He ignored the voice in his head. The more bylines he got, the more likely he was to get a raise eventually. Maybe he could build enough of a name for himself that he wouldn't get assigned to stupid propaganda stunts like this again.

He drummed his fingertips on the table and stared at his screen. Not much was public knowledge by this point, but they had a few clues. Federal authorities had raided sites in North Carolina and come away with data linking the Douglass University bombers to a known white supremacist group. That group had been linked to one particular firearms manufacturer, Smolak Enterprises.

It didn't take long to figure out that the same manufacturer was a major contributor to Cook's campaign. All Colin had to do was to press a few buttons, for crying out loud. The problem was that Smolak contributed to a number of campaigns, throughout the Bible Belt. Most of those legislators were not calling for the prosecution of opposition politicians.

Colin reluctantly turned his eyes away from Smolak Enterprises. Fewer people had died in Baltimore, too. Why was that? Was it simply because fewer people were going to public places these days? Or was there some other reason? There had to be a good way to check. He could ask some of the researchers to check attendance at sporting events before and after the bombings, and he could start digging into the history of the Baltimore site.

He didn't have to rush. There was no deadline for this project, no sell-by date. For all he knew, six other reporters had already seized on the story. He wanted to offer more, of course, and he still thought he had something to add.

Research for the Baltimore story kept him up to his bedtime and a little bit beyond, and he sank into his bed with gratitude. His back was still a little bit sore from where he'd made impact with the wall, but most of the bruising had faded by now. He could be grateful for that, at least. Two weeks of hard labor in the desert hadn’t exactly helped, but he was better now. He'd gotten sick and tired of sleeping on his stomach.

The next day he headed onto base. Ed's eyes burned into him, like lasers. What, exactly, was he thinking? Chief promised to pull him aside and read him the riot act, but that didn't mean anything would get through his head. Colin had known Ed a long time. Chief might get compliance, but he'd never get agreement.

In the end, Colin guessed it was the compliance that mattered. As long as Ed kept his hands to himself, and the others followed suit, Colin would have to be happy with that. The funny thing was, up until the moment when Ed had shoved him, Colin would have given his right arm for Ed to put his hands on him. It just went to prove that a man had to be careful what he wished for.

He took his usual seat off to the side of the briefing room. He probably could have gotten away with sitting next to the new guy, Miazga, but he opted to keep to himself. Colin would be leaving the unit. He'd never see these guys again. Miazga wasn't that lucky. While the kid was nice enough, and had been more than solicitous of Colin's comfort during that ridiculous training exercise in Arizona, Colin didn't want to set him up for tension within the platoon.

Besides, he didn't want to accidentally create the impression he might be available for anything, either. Miazga seemed nice enough, but an omega had to be careful about setting expectations. That rang especially true when he was surrounded by horny alphas. Colin had learned that lesson a long time ago, and he wasn't looking for a repeat.

Miazga didn't seem all that disappointed when Colin took his solitary seat, so maybe Colin was worried for nothing. He'd take that risk.

Chief and DeWitt sauntered in. Their shoulders were loose, and they had a little bit of bounce to their step. Colin guessed the day off had done them some good. "All right, men." DeWitt stood up in front of the room. "Let's talk about the training exercise. You caught the flag and returned it to base in exactly the time allotted. Who wants to break that down for me?" He turned his gaze seemingly at random, until it landed on the beautiful Petty Officer Hopper. "Hopper! You tell me what's problematic about that time."

Hopper ran a hand through his messy dark hair and grinned. The guy should have been a model. It paid better than being a SEAL. "Well, sir," he drawled, "that would depend on what the real objective was and what the rendezvous might be. If we're meeting up with an escort that can't get there until that exact date and time, then it's fine. But if we're trying to evacuate hostages, then the sooner we can get 'em out the better."

"Correct." A tiny little line appeared between DeWitt's eyebrows. "You kind of let the wind out of my sails there a little bit, Hopper, but I'm not mad." He straightened up a little. "In all seriousness, though, Hopper is right. Different situations call for different timing, and of course I didn't give you boys the parameters of this mission." He looked over at Colin, and Colin knew the exercise had been aimed at teaching him. "Sometimes we need to meet up with something that's passing by at a given time, like a caravan or a passing ship. In this case, though, there was just no hustle. And I'm frankly a little annoyed by that."

"I've seen most of you boys in situations with a lot more at stake than a damn flag." Chief stepped forward, hands at the small of his back, to address the men. Chief's scowl would be a frightening thing to behold in a dark alley or something. Colin couldn't claim he was entirely comfortable with it now. "Adami, I know damn well you can move faster than I saw out there. The sniper doesn't pull rear guard, not ever. And Iniguez, you spent more than twenty-four hours looking for a way to replenish your canteen. You know what would have kept you from wasting that time? Not blowing through your water on the first day. That's what would have done it."

"Chief." Tinker raised his hand.

Chief's scowl deepened, like a grave. "You'd better not be saying anything that's going to piss me off, Tinker."

Tinker grimaced. "We probably could have finished that run in half the time if we hadn't had the civilian with us."

"Oh, you think so?" Chief stormed over to Tinker's desk. "Stand up, Tinker."

Tinker's face drained of some of his color, but he stood.

"We had a man that didn't go to BUDS, and who isn't even an alpha, get tossed into the desert with you bunch after only a couple of weeks of training. And he wasn't the one bitching about water. He wasn't the one grousing about food. He did what was asked of him and he shut up about it."

Colin slouched in his seat as every pair of eyes in the place turned toward him. He could have lived without turning into a tool with which to shame the others.

"It wasn't easy for him, and I'm guessing it wasn't fun, but he did the least bitching of any of you sorry fools. If I hear one of you calling him a bitch after this sorry excuse for training I'm putting you all on double physical training until his assignment is over, because right now he's the only real alpha I see." Chief pointed at all of them. "Or is one of you going to tell me you were trying to make him look good?"

No one moved a muscle. At least they gave him that much dignity. No one was going to insult him by pretending they'd been trying to make him look good.

"Now. Let's talk about the things we did right out there. I was pleased with the way we handled chores. And even I can't complain about the way you moved when it was time to run silent." DeWitt took over and ran down the list of things the platoon had done right. Colin could breathe again.

He wasn't sure how to feel about the briefing. He couldn't blame platoon leadership for calling the team out, especially if they hadn't met the stated objectives, but it still left him feeling used. Once again, everything came down to his omega status. That one little genetic factor was the only valuable thing about him, to anyone.

Sure, he'd proved he could survive a training mission just as well as they could. All that meant to any of them, even the best of them, was that they were less masculine because an omega had beaten them. No accomplishment had accrued to him at all. None could, to an omega, unless he bore children.

When quitting time came around that night, he saw Ed staring at him again. Colin straightened his back and ignored him. He'd love to be able to go grab a beer and talk about it, but those days were gone now. Instead, he headed back to his hotel to work on his story.

His research into the bombing yielded some fruit. Apparently the white supremacist group involved with the bombings in Orlando, Douglass, and Baltimore had been branching out. An "anonymous" source inside the FBI sent him an image from a file. The group, Chaos Tree, had been active in Europe and North Africa over the past few months. They'd been involved with human trafficking, of all things.

Colin scratched his head and leaned over his computer. Why exactly would a white supremacist organization that's focused on the former Confederate states have anything to do with North Africa or human trafficking? Even the thought made his head hurt as he typed the question.

His contact replied almost immediately, which told Colin he was either burning the midnight oil or had enough concern about the issue that he felt compelled to reach out to the press on his own time. Either way, it meant a lot that he was reaching out at all. If we knew that, we wouldn't need to keep sending Special Forces in. We'd just solve the problem, knock some heads together, and move on to the next threat. As it is, I can't imagine whatever's behind it is all that good for America.

Colin thanked his friend for his help and stared at the message on his screen. What, exactly, had his buddy meant by Special Forces? It was too much of a coincidence to be accidental, wasn't it?

* * *

Ed had fantasized for years about getting closer to Colin. What he got right now bore absolutely no resemblance to those youthful fantasies. Then, he'd imagined long nights filled with conversation and laughter. Even when he'd enlisted, he'd thought they could spend the times when he wasn't deployed hunkered down together, watching the game and enjoying a drink or two.

Basically their friendship, with sex and maybe a few kids to spice things up.

Instead, Colin's physical presence mocked him out there on the training field every day. He'd always had a hot, shapely little body that kept Ed half-hard most of the time they were in contact. Now, with the training regimen the SEALs added, Colin looked like a damn model. And Ed couldn't even talk to him.

He wasn't the only one that kept an eye on Colin. Chief wasn't likely to have a lot of sexual interest in the guy, but it was definitely in his best interests to make sure he was taken care of. Hopper cast more than a few admiring glances his way, and after their little round of banter back in Arizona, Colin and Lupo seemed to almost be getting along just fine. Ed had to remind himself several times a day that he had no right to be jealous.

If he could just get a few minutes' respite from his own jealousy, his grief at the loss of their friendship, and the near-constant state of arousal that had plagued him since Colin got to Virginia Beach, Ed figured he'd be set for life.

The story about the link between Chaos Tree and the bombings wasn't new. Their involvement was common knowledge, as far as anyone who wasn't already involved with the group was concerned. The white supremacist organization's new reach had not become public knowledge, though, until it was splashed over the front of the Times on Saturday morning.

With Colin's byline, of course.

Ed threw his phone down onto the bed and screamed curses into his pillow when he saw the headline. Then, when his phone buzzed in his lap, he cursed again.

A small part of him hoped the caller would be Colin, calling to apologize for the article. The rest of him knew better, and answered the phone, "Yes, Chief," without even looking at the caller ID.

"Adami." Chief's tone was clipped. "Get your ass over to my place before I completely lose my shit. And bring coffee."

Ed closed his eyes and counted to three. "On my way, Chief." No other answer would be acceptable before Chief had his coffee. He rolled out of bed and into his shower, taking the fastest shower the Navy had seen in this century. Then he got dressed, hit the nearest coffee chain for a couple of those big travel boxes of coffee, and headed out to Chief's handsome brick home.

Ed wasn't the only SEAL thus summoned. Kelly was there too, and so was Fitzpatrick. Kelly's omega was there too. Ed tried not to make eye contact. He wasn't comfortable involving Mal Kelly in platoon business. Sure, Mal had been involved with the whole White Dawn thing back when it started. Things were different now. He was a husband and a dad. He should be focused on his kid and his man, not on fighting. It wasn't his place. Someone had to take care of the kid, damn it.

Ed kept his mouth shut about it. If Mal was here, someone thought he had something to add. They certainly hadn't consulted Ed about it. If he thought about his own behavior toward Colin, he could kind of understand why.

Chief's omega husband, Tony, appeared from the kitchen. He carried a tray of empty mugs, with a carton of skim milk and a little bowl of sugar. Mal jumped up to take it from him and offered a little smile, which Tony returned before hiding back in the house again. Well, maybe it wasn't hiding. Tony had five kids, and if Mal was out here someone was probably watching his one. That was an awful lot of child minding. He probably shouldn't have been out here this long.

Chief gestured to the tray. "Grab some mugs, get yourself some joe. We're not being fancy right now. DeWitt would be here, but he's off trying to talk his CO off the ceiling."

Fitzpatrick snorted. "Good luck to him. What about Baldinotti?"

"She's on her way." Chief opened the first coffee box and poured himself a steaming mug.

Baldinotti showed up ten minutes later, eyes blazing. She looked like she belonged in this neighborhood, dressed in a pretty floral civilian dress like she was on her way to a church picnic or something. Even the grim set to her jaw and the fire in her eyes looked appropriate. Ed hadn't been in a church in a while, but those picnics could get brutal.

She cleared her throat and poured herself a cup of coffee. "So," she said, as everyone sat in silence and stared. "That happened." She glared at Ed. "How much does he know?"

"He knows as much as any of the guys." Chief rubbed at his temples. "We're not standing on ceremony in my backyard, Baldinotti. If he's here, he's someone we can trust. And he's got a connection to the hack that wrote this."

Ed's hackles rose. "He's not a hack, Chief. He's a damn fine journalist. And honestly, it's not hard to see that a little handful of legislators has been covering for the bad guys. They were making jokes about it on a kids' cartoon the other day."

Kelly blinked at him and lifted his cup to his lips. "Watch a lot of kid cartoons, do you?"

Fitzpatrick snorted. "Your day's coming, Kelly. But yeah. I mean there's only one place that intel could have come from."

"What intel?" Ed stood up and spread his hands out. His pulse raced in his neck. He'd gladly fight Fitzpatrick, given half the chance. He’d take on the whole platoon, for Colin. "In case you haven't noticed, he's not speaking to me. He told me he never wants to see me again after this whole fiasco is over, and given that we were best friends until a month ago I'd say he's hardly going to come up and pump me for information."

Baldinotti cleared her throat. "There's no need to get all defensive. Have you ever shared details about missions involving Chaos Tree or human trafficking with Mr. Church?"

"No." Ed snarled the word at her. "I haven't. Why don't you try asking him, since he's the one who wrote the goddamn article?"

Chief gave Ed a dark look. "Calm yourself, Sailor. If you can't see why we'd be making inquiries, maybe you're not quite ready to be part of this conversation."

Kelly and Fitzpatrick stilled.

Ed took a deep breath. He'd been suspicious that something might be going on, something the more junior SEALs couldn't be privy to, but he didn't have proof. Now that he had an opportunity to be read in, he couldn't let his temper ruin things for him. "My apologies."

"That's better. Now. I will go over to Mr. Church's hotel, and I will invite him to join us here off the record. I am not able to force him to disclose his sources."

Baldinotti growled. "You do realize that we're talking about white supremacists making inroads into national government, right?"

Chief met her eyes. "I do. You are aware that we have a Constitution, right? I'll issue the invitation. He has the right to say no." He looked over at Mal. "You want to come with me, Mal? You're an omega. He'll probably feel a little safer with you around, all things considered."

Mal shrugged. "Sure, why not?" He chugged down his coffee in one gulp. "I'll be back, love." He brushed his hand against the back of Kelly's neck as he passed.

Once they were gone, Ed stared down into his coffee. Fitzpatrick nudged him with his elbow. "I didn't mean to suggest you'd spilled any secrets," he said. "Stuff comes up, you know? Pillow talk?"

Ed scoffed. "Pillow talk? Dude, no. You've got it all wrong. Me and him, we were just friends. Only friends."

"Huh." Fitzpatrick scratched his head. "I'll take your word for it, but it seems kind of weird to me."

Kelly tilted his head, like he could make sense of Fitzpatrick's words by changing his perspective. "Come again?"

"Oh come on, Kelly." Fitzpatrick waved a hand at Ed, like Ed was some kind of statue. "Like you haven't noticed the jealous fits? And the way he can't take his eyes off the guy?" Now he did look right at Ed. "No shame in it. Me and Nick were best friends for years, before the whole puberty thing." He put a hand to his heart. "I guess I'm just surprised."

"Yeah, well, sometimes things don't work out that way." Ed shrugged and lapsed into silence for the rest of the wait.

Chief and Mal brought Colin back quickly. They'd said they'd give him the opportunity to refuse, but Colin didn't look like a man who'd had many choices about his current whereabouts. He stood in low-hanging sleep pants and a flannel button-down thrown hastily over his bare torso. Some kind of tattoo in black ink peeked out of the waistband, just at his hip bones. Ed had to slurp his coffee to hide his drool.

"Do you have any idea where you are right now?" Kelly stood up and walked toward Colin, scowling.

Colin ran a hand through sleep-tousled hair. "I can find my way back to the hotel if I have to. You have no warrant and no right to detain me." He glowered at everyone and adjusted his flannel. "Do I need to give you all a refresher course in the first amendment?"

Baldinotti scoffed. "We're the ones who actually defend your press freedoms, dirtbag."

Ed bared his teeth at her. "Hey. He's got a point. Chief did point out that we have that whole Constitution thing, remember?" He crossed his arms over his chest and turned back to Colin. "Did they tell you where you were going or why?"

"No. And no. But believe it or not, omegas are born with fully functional brains and not just little breeding urges. I published an article about Chaos Tree and their connections to the bombings. It hit this morning, and you kidnapped me out of my hotel room about an hour later. Two plus two usually equals four."

Mal put an arm around Colin's shoulders and guided him, very gently, to a seat. "Try not to think of it as kidnapping. Think of it instead as being granted an opportunity to provide information."

Chief lifted his eyebrows. "Yeah, Church. You came here of your own free will."

"Like hell." Colin gripped the arms on his deck chair and clenched his jaw. His knuckles were white. It seemed like an extreme reaction to Ed, but what did he know?

"Aw, Jesus." Ed rolled his eyes and pushed his way over to the table. "Colin, watch me here. See this box of coffee? I'm opening it fresh, okay?" He made a show of opening the second travel box. "You pick the mug."

Colin's lip curled, and then he jerked his chin toward one of the only three mugs remaining. It was a plain white mug, with no distinguishing features in any way. It was the complete opposite of what Ed would have thought he'd go for, which showed how little Colin trusted him now.

"Fine." Ed poured the coffee into the cup and passed it carefully over to Colin. "Black, just like you like it. Look. We just want to know what your source was for the story about Chaos Tree and the human trafficking thing. That's all."

"It's good to stay hungry in life. When you have everything you ever wanted, you start to get lazy and complacent. If you want things, you keep working hard. You stay focused." Colin took the mug and pulled it toward himself.

Chief turned to Ed. "What'd he just say?"

"He told us to go fuck ourselves, Chief. But politely." Ed turned his head away.

"Oh. Well, as long as he was polite about it." Baldinotti stepped in. "Do you realize, Mr. Church, that you've just undone months of effort?"

"Take it up with people in your organization."

"You could have chosen not to report information you had no right to have." Baldinotti leaned in. "You could have chosen to keep thousands of trafficking victims safe, and not to compromise US intel resources."

"Mmm-hmm. Or, you know, you could have guarded your information better, been more up front with the American people, not diverted funding away from investigating white supremacist terrorism, and respected the goddamn Constitution." Colin smiled brightly.

"We could press charges." Baldinotti stood up straighter.

"You think you'd be the first?" Colin's voice was deathly quiet. "You think Ed's the only one who keeps secrets about his work? Look. I will tell you my source isn't Navy. None of us had any clue the Navy was at all involved with fighting white supremacist until you just blew the whistle. So let's talk about that, shall we?"

All of the color drained from Baldinotti's face.

Ed fought down a surge of pride. He shouldn't feel that kind of pride in this situation. His first loyalty should be to the Navy and to his platoon. Colin was ripping both to shreds right now. Ed could see that from Colin's perspective, that shredding was more than deserved. "Colin," he said, and tried to fight down a snicker. "Look, man. I'm sorry they came and got you without letting you get dressed." He looked over at Chief. "I think we've got to tell him."

"Absolutely not." Baldinotti flattened her lips into a thin little line. "No way, no how. He's a liability."

"He'll be more of a liability if you don't tell him the damn truth." Ed sighed. "He's good at what he does. The entire platoon's been giving him the silent treatment since he started, and he still manages to get stories. Oh, and get stories in his downtime. He got all of this dirt on his own. Now he's got a grudge. How much damage do you think he can do?" He put his hand on Colin’s shoulder without thinking about it.

Colin turned his flat stare toward Baldinotti and gave a thin, plastic smile. He didn’t pull away from Ed’s touch.

She threw her hands up in the air. "Take out a full page ad in the Post, why don't you?"

Chief bit the inside of his cheek and sat down. "This is strictly off the record. Yes, the platoon has been investigating white supremacist involvement with human trafficking. We found evidence of Chaos Tree's involvement. They seem to have come on board relatively late, possibly ancillary to a larger hate group called White Dawn."

"The American or European version?" Colin yawned.

Mal sat up a little straighter. "You're familiar with the European side of their operation?"

"Of course." Colin frowned at him. "I did a piece about them for the Times about a year ago, and their involvement in the Brexit crisis."

Mal pulled back and folded his hands around his coffee. He didn't say anything else.

Chief, on the other hand, lifted his mug back to his lips. "What are the odds we can exchange information, without it winding up in print?"

Ed held his breath, watching Colin's face. Then Colin took a sip of his coffee. "I'm listening."