Sawyer stared unseeing at the weapons checklist on the table. Racks of weapons surrounded him. The ammunitions room was well stocked thanks to frequent forays.

Garrick had asked him to assist, ostensibly with the plan of assembling supplies from the ammunition room for remapping Crossness. Sawyer knew he deserved a grilling. It was a miracle Julia had only cut her head. An awkward fall, the edge of the granite catching her neck, and she might have been paralyzed or even killed. Dead. He inhaled through clenched teeth. He wasn’t going to think about that. He consoled himself with the knowledge that Darr was gone. Those unreadable, dark eyes and expressionless face. The man was bad news through and through.

“You going to tell me what that mess with Darr was all about?”

Sawyer studied his hands, weapons forgotten. “I lost it.” He glanced up at Garrick. “It won’t happen again.”

“Anna told me about Beth. I’m sorry.”

Sawyer grunted.

“If you need anything…”

Sawyer scrunched the list he’d made up in a ball. They didn’t need a list. They just needed to pack as much firepower as humanly possible into the Tactical Support Vehicles and blow the Chittrix into the sky.

“When I saw Beth, I thought I’d been given a second chance. Then just like everything else, the Chittrix destroyed her. I wanted to make up for what I did.” His voice dropped to a whisper as he confessed.

“Putting away her drug-dealing brother?”

Sawyer shook with a short, harsh laugh. “Yeah, I messed it up. She was so angry.” He scraped a hand across the top of his head, remembering her spitting in his face while two uniformed officers dragged her screaming like a banshee into a waiting squad car.

“You tried to protect her. You did what you thought was best, what you were trained to do. She had choices too. You can’t be held responsible for everything that happened.”

“I know, but that doesn’t change anything. I screwed up. She trusted me.”

Garrick rested his knuckles on the table, next to the MP5 submachine guns. His blue eyes burned into Sawyer with unrelenting intensity making Sawyer fidget.

“You have something good with Julia. Don’t mess that up. Let Beth go.” Garrick stood back, running a palm across his face. He had watched his brother die in combat with the Chittrix. He jerked a thumb toward his own chest. “I’m a prime example of that. Losing Tom nearly killed me.”

“That’s easier said than done.”

Garrick swore under his breath. “When did you decide you have unlimited time to work these things out?” he asked in a caustic tone. “None of us know if we’re going to be alive tomorrow, and you’re wasting time feeling guilt for past events you’ll never change.”

Garrick unhooked a pulse rifle from the wall restraints and laid it next to others on the table. He walked past Sawyer to reach the energy packs clipped behind him. He squeezed Sawyer’s shoulder. “Sometimes you act fucking stupid, mate. But you’re not. You can move on.”

The door crashed against the wall, and Foster stormed in. He instantly zeroed in on Sawyer’s battered countenance. He raised his eyebrows, taking in the still-swollen and blood-crusted nose. “I clearly missed all the fun.”

Garrick shook his head, detaching the energy packs and lining them up with the pulse rifles.

Foster went to where the explosives were secured, flipping out a key on a thin, metal chain from under his worn t-shirt. He unlocked the storage unit, opening the doors wide to reveal the broad shelves.

He rubbed his hands in anticipation and crooned, “Hey babies. I missed you.” He straightened, his face serious. “I hear it was daggers at dawn with Darr?”

Sawyer grunted. “Darr was asking for it.” He dropped his head, embarrassed. “Julia got in the way, trying to separate us.”

Foster whistled. “I saw her. Big dressing messing up that clever head.”

Sawyer picked up the power packs and began inserting them into the stacked pulse rifles, jamming them in with more force than was necessary. He was still angry with himself, not about the past, but about now, the present, and what he had with Julia. Perhaps if he’d been honest about Beth, the whole thing wouldn’t have blown up in his face.

Foster bent to pick up rigid silver cases for transporting the explosives. “Letting scavengers come back here was a mistake.”

“They just saw one of their group blown up with a Chittrix. You think we should have just left them there to pick up the pieces?” Garrick’s tone was curt.

Foster grimaced. “No, but—"

“And the children?”

Sawyer huffed out a long breath, shaking his head. “It’s a bloody mess.”

Methodically, Foster piled up matte-black explosive units and magnetic timers on the table. “So what’s the plan then. Are we going to blow up Darr and his goons now they’ve left us?”

Garrick shot him a look.

Foster held his hands up. “Just playing.”

“Anna thinks we’ve been searching in the wrong places,” said Garrick. “We’ve been relying on the maps and ignoring basic Chittrix behavior—and it isn’t swimming.”

Foster flashed his teeth. “Fill me in on her insecty insights.”

Despite himself, a smile tugged at the corners of Sawyer’s mouth. These were good men, and he was damn lucky to have them.

Garrick rolled his eyes and picked up a green kit bag rammed with pulse rifles. “Anna suspects they’ve dug new tunnels or connecting chambers near Crossness. Today’s plan is to map the area with acoustics and compare that to the cartography we already have. Hence the day trip.”

He yanked open the ammunitions door. “I’m going to take these down to the vehicle hangar.” He nodded in Foster’s direction. “Don’t be too long packing those up.”

Foster ran his hands lovingly across the explosive devices. “Can’t rush my girls.”

The door swung shut behind Garrick, leaving Foster and Sawyer alone.

Sawyer pulled re-breathers from the shelf and added them to his kit bag. Compact emergency devices developed offshore for underwater use, they would give approximately ten extra minutes of air when surfacing wasn’t possible. Not something he wanted to think about, but he packed them anyway.

“So are you coming today? Or do you have someone to see?” Foster asked, happily running the pad of his thumb across enough explosive to detonate most of London.

Sawyer remained silent, checking the MP5s, sliding them into another kit bag.

“Okaaaay. Big guy doesn’t want to talk ladies.” Foster held his hands out in exasperation. He tapped his lip. “Guess I’ll just shut up.” He wiggled an eyebrow suggestively at Sawyer.

Sawyer paused, his hands resting on the black weaponry, indecision weighing heavy on his mind. Fuck it. He’d kept his secrets far too long.

“I’ll see Julia later, once she’s had the chance to rest. I don’t even know if she’ll speak to me yet.”

“You took a hit, man. She’ll forgive you.”

“I hope so.” The words tumbled out, surprising him. There, he’d said it. God, it felt good to say. Why had he waited so long to tell anyone? “I really like her.”

Foster smirked. “Clever, great sense of humor, badass in the science department, curves to die for. Not a lot to dislike.”

“She deserves more than me.”

Foster frowned and paused in his packing. “That’s loser talk, bro. What’s the deal with that?”

“Beth—the woman who died. I knew her before, when I was undercover in a drugs sting. My testimony had her convicted.”

Foster scowled. “Sounds right. No one can blame you for that.” He concentrated, analyzing Sawyer’s expression. “Except perhaps you?”

Sawyer chewed his bottom lip. “Yes. And then to top it all off, I wasn’t straight with Julia. I told her some of the deal about Beth, but not all of it, and she found out from Darr instead.”

“Ah.” Foster’s tone said it all.

Exactly.

“Time’s short, bro. No time for messing around anymore. If you like her, go get her.” Foster widened his eyes and winked. “Dr. Simmons is a classy lady. She wouldn’t be with you if she didn’t think you were good enough. There’s plenty of fine alpha stock in this base for her to choose from, and she chose you.”

Sawyer laughed, his heart suddenly lighter for speaking his mind. And to Foster, of all people, who spoke to explosives like they had their own personalities.

“I like her a lot.”

Foster smiled. “Figures. I’ve seen the bodywork.”

“She says she doesn’t want more. She wants to keep it casual.”

“What, like friends?”

“Friends with benefits. She’s quite clear.”

“And that’s a problem?” Foster’s voice cranked up a few octaves.

“It wasn’t, but I’ve changed my mind.”

“Well, tell her you want more. It’s not a one-time decision only.”

“What makes you the expert on relationships?”

Foster tipped his head. “Ah. Well, let’s just say these,” he indicated the sleek row of matte devices in front of him. “These are not the only ladies in my life.” He patted his chest. “I just don’t like to brag about it and make everyone else feel sorry for themselves.”

The door opened on the other side of the room, and Hardy stuck his head in, hanging on to the handle for leverage.

Foster jerked his head in Hardy’s direction. “Especially him.”

Hardy gave a dismissive shake of his head before flipping Foster the bird.

“Hurry up. Coyote’s ready, and Violet’s burning everyone’s ears to go. And don’t forget the re-breathers. There might be swimming involved.”

Sawyer smiled, the sick tightness in his chest easing for the first time in days. He picked up his now-full kit bag.

Hardy let the door slam behind him, leaving Sawyer and Foster alone again.

“Tell her, bro.” Foster pressed the last of his explosives into the plush black lining, securing each with a Velcro strap. “Just be honest and tell her what you’re thinking. Before it’s too late. It’s too damn easy for it to be too late nowadays.”

Sawyer straightened his spine. He could do that. There was still time.