Family mourns loss of Franshesco Gutierrez in storm-related accident.

Nikita read the headline on the suite’s bedroom television screen again and tried to feel sorry about it, but she couldn’t. The bodies of Gutierrez, two bankers suspected of drug running, and a dirty chief of police known for his generous payoffs were found in the crashed helicopter. Of course none of those details were listed, but command had confirmed who they’d been.

“Why was the entire head of the snake onsite for a meeting?” she asked Drake where he lay beside her.

“Because,” he poked a finger in her shoulder, “they were worried about the great Drake Roman coming their way. Your rumor campaign was big enough that it got back to them somehow and must have scared them spitless.”

Nikita remembered the moment that their DAP Hawk had overflown the Bell TwinRanger. A flash of lightning had strobe-lit the moment. The down-blast of the DAP Hawk’s massive rotors disrupted the air flow over the much smaller Bell helicopter, and its blades had lost all lift.

Another flash, this time of man-made lightning as the helo snagged one transmission line with one skid, twisted, and laid the tail across the other. It had lain there for a long moment, arcing and flashing with light, before the rotor sliced one of the massive wires and then the aircraft plummeted down into the clearing. There had been no explosion, but they had landed on a boulder field from fifty meters up. There was no question of survivors.

The newscast flipped to the next news item and Drake chuckled beside her.

“Show off,” she accused him and he didn’t argue, instead pulling her more tightly against his side. Nikita snuggled as she joined his laugh.

Police sergeant goes undercover to unmask environmentalists’ killer.

Nikita couldn’t help smiling back at the image of a grinning Esly, soaked by the rain, standing with her M16 over a dozen well-bound mercenaries. Drake’s move of calling in the press had been a brilliant way to make sure the entire site’s security detail was taken out of operation. Apparently the guards had tried to tell stories of the 5E team, but Esly had simply said, “Others who wish to remain anonymous for their safety offered some assistance.” It made it sound like a locals’ movement seeking retribution for the killed environmentalists, which would only make the whole event more popular.

President declares Esly Escarra a national hero.

“He didn’t have a lot of choice, did he,” Drake asked the screen rhetorically.

Tropical storm Kyra gives coast glancing blow.

They both sat up as the images flashed across the screen.

The ride back to the ship had been a wild one as the storm buffeted the Roatán coast. It had been a dozen times more violent on the island than it had been up at the El Carbón dam site. At midnight, in the heart of the storm, they had fast-roped down from their helos onto the top deck of the cruise ship as it wallowed and bucked against the pier despite its protected harbor. She and Drake from the DAP Hawk, Altman from one Little Bird, and Zoe from the other. With no one the wiser, they’d reached their suite. Drenched, filthy, but back in their suite. A quick call to Norma and they were all logged as being back aboard—much earlier in the evening.

Drake had declared it would be best if they were found here. Less chance of an official connecting their leaving the ship with what had happened up in the hills. He had proven himself as a strategist so many times that no one questioned his judgment anymore.

But no one had slept until it was reported back that the three helos had flown through the storm wall and safely landed on their ship in the relative calm of the eye.

The newsfeed shifted from showing the mainland to footage of the islands:

French Harbour had been hammered.

Fishing and tour boats were cast up on the beach, others were sunk at their piers.

Houses had been damaged.

Then Nikita saw the palm tree rammed through the front window of the Junk Boutique.

She was up and half dressed before she knew it and Drake was right there beside her.

Out in the main suite’s living room, Altman and Zoe were also dressed for hard work.

At the ramp, the ship’s attendant tried to convince them to stay aboard. “The seas are too rough for us to leave today, but we strongly suggest that all passengers remain aboard.”

They brushed past him, though it took a while to find a truck making its way toward French Harbour that they could hitch a ride on.

Where Drake led, Nikita and the others followed. He was a sergeant and Luke Altman a lieutenant commander. Drake was actually the lowest ranked of the four of them, but there was no question who was the leader.

They arrived at the Junk Boutique ready to go to work. Mercedez was inside with a mop. She was in a good mood despite the damage, “I am better off than others. It is only broken glass.”

As a team they managed to pull the tree back into the street. Emmanuel found a roll of thick plastic in the back room and they soon had it tacked over the window. Then Mercedez shooed them on their way with a sincere hug for thanks.

The sky was still overcast, but the rain was no more than an occasional spatter and even that tapered off as they worked along the street.

When they reached the harbor itself, Nikita saw that it had been the worst hit. It wasn’t long before Altman found the local tour divers and began going down with them to help refloat sunken boats. Nearby, Zoe used her magnetic charm to turn the people working at random along the beach into a team that dug half-buried boats out of the beach sand and hauled them back into the water.

Nikita stuck with Drake. They lifted, moved, dug, and mostly consoled people until her muscles burned, but still they didn’t stop.

When they managed to get a restaurant put back together enough to make food, they were served the first lunch. Zoe and Altman soon joined them and they sat out at the end of a pier with their feet dangling over the turquoise water. The harbor waters were active without being rough. The fishing boats that survived and those they’d been able to refloat or relaunch bobbed at their moorings once again. A group of children were making a game of swimming out to floating plastic furniture and hauling it onto the beach.

“What next?” Nikita would be content to sit here all day, her shoulder brushing Drake’s each time one of them lifted a conch fritter for another bite. It was hard to imagine being anywhere other than at his side.

“I don’t know,” Drake said softly.

She’d meant what was next after they’d eaten, but Drake wasn’t scanning the beach for the next task, he was looking at her.

“You tell me.”

The conch seemed to stick in her throat as she looked up at his dark eyes. The subject of the future hung between them. She turned away before the sadness overwhelmed her.

In perfect irony, the midday sunlight finally broke through the parting clouds and the turquoise water seemed to turn golden.

If this was like any other mission, they would return to US soil and she’d catch the next flight to Virginia Beach. As much as she enjoyed working with the 5E, they had accounted for less than ten of her missions over the last year. Without them she’d fought piracy in the Persian Gulf, tracked kidnappers across Africa, taken down terrorists in Indonesia, and any number of other missions.

“I could,” it hurt to say, but she forced it out, “switch—”

“Hey,” Zoe’s shout interrupted their whispered conversation. “I know that boat.”

Nikita looked up as a massive black motor yacht idled into the harbor.

Zoe jumped to her feet and finally managed to flag them down. The boat turned and headed for the pier.

They all rose to their feet to catch lines and greet them.

Nikita couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. She loved being a DEVGRU SEAL. But life without Drake Roman—she didn’t know if she could face that.

Drake pulled Nikita tightly against him as Jared’s boat finished nosing alongside the pier. Drake buried his face in her hair and kissed her on the temple.

If a man ever needed proof that a woman loved him, it just didn’t come any higher than what she’d been about to say.

He whispered for her alone, “If you ever even hint at leaving DEVGRU for me again, you’re really going to piss me off. Just so you know.”

She turned her face into his shoulder as if hiding there. “Then what do we do?”

Drake smiled, “I have an idea on that one.” But he wasn’t ready to give it a voice yet.

Nikita looked up at him and, after a long look, gave him a kiss that promised a lifetime if he could just figure out how to make it happen.

A massive hand crashed down on his shoulder, “Damn, military!”

Jared had a hold on both his and Nikita’s shoulders and was shaking them like clothes on a line during a storm.

“Hey, mercenary,” Nikita shot back, but her smile said she was no longer reacting to her past. Drake was so proud of her. How in the world was he supposed to tell an ST6 SEAL that he was so proud of her it made his chest hurt?

Jared shook them some more. “You weren’t kidding about the whole ‘being invisible’ shit. Been watching the news feed and there isn’t even a goddamn hint you were there. That was damn sweet work. Damn sweet.”

“I think,” Sugar eased up beside him, “that may be the highest praise I ever heard from J-dawg.”

Asal nodded her agreement from close beside them.

Drake handed her his plate, which had one more conch fritter on it. She nibbled a corner, paused, and then began eating it happily.

“I got the names and faces of those mercs,” Jared was practically effusive. “They were all GSI hires, which means they were bad news anyway. Can’t believe you caught Hank Jaffer; I’ve been after that bastard for years. I spread the word that if any of those assholes ever get out of Honduran jail, Titan will be taking down any outfit that hires them—all the way down. They’re blacklisted for life.”

Drake slapped a hand down on Jared’s shoulder, partly to stop the dual-shaking thing he was doing. A group of men and women lined the rails of the boat and looked down at the proceedings. The men were like miniature Jareds, a wide variety of types and all military tough, though none of them were as big as their boss. The women didn’t look any less dangerous.

Nikita went up on her toes and actually kissed Jared, which shocked him into silence and thankfully made him finally let go of their shoulders.

Sugar gave Nikita a sideways hug, “Knew there was hope for you, Swimmer Girl.”

“Hey,” a voice called from up the pier.

Drake turned to see Esly striding along it.

“Do you have proper entry stamp for that boat?”

Nikita and Zoe threw their arms around her and the three women hugged.

All he got was a punch on the arm.

“What’s it to you?” Jared growled.

“Careful, Mr. American. You are now talking to the Roatán Island Chief Minister of Security.”

Drake laughed. “Mercedez is well connected.”

Esly joined his laugh. “Yes, she had the mayor create this job for the new ‘National Hero.’ My duties are to ensure that the Bay Islands, including Roatán, remain safe for tourism no matter what disaster is the mainland. So,” she turned to Jared and scowled at him. “Tell me if I should trust these people or no. They look like bad element to me.”

Jared simply glowered, not able to hear the tease.

“I wouldn’t trust them,” Nikita was the first to speak.

“Not for a second,” Drake crossed his arms over his chest.

“You wouldn’t believe the kinds of things these guys do,” Zoe chimed in cheerfully.

Altman simply stood beside Zoe with his arms crossed as well.

“Unless…” Drake trailed it out.

Jared glared down at him.

“Unless they were willing to help pitch in on the post-Storm Kyra cleanup.”

Jared looked out over their heads and inspected the waterfront.

Drake saw him register the damage the storm had done and the people struggling to put their town back together. Without appearing to notice what he was doing, he reached an arm around Sugar’s waist and pulled her tight against him.

“And if I was?” But despite his grumble, there was no question he’d be joining in. His true emotions were always clear on Sugar’s face and Drake could see how proud she was of her man.

Drake knew exactly how she felt as he hung on to Nikita.

“Got room for four temporary Team Titan members?” Drake nodded at the others. “A couple of days’ hard work together and we would go a long way to getting these people back on their feet.”

Drake didn’t need Sugar’s glowing smile to tell him he’d done it right.

It was Nikita’s laugh that really mattered. The merry sound proved that over these last days they had finally broken the past’s hold on her life and now she’d be glad to work side by side with a military contractor, at least a good one like Titan.

They’d fixed her past, but his future—their future—was still a huge question.