Page 46 of Hard Pursuit
“Same batch,” Cannon said. “Same supply.”
The words landed heavy.
Archer’s pulse kicked once, hard. “So whoever hit Echo didn’t just take them out,” he said slowly. “They stripped the base. And they’ve been using that cache ever since.”
No one argued.
“Unless someone made sure there was nothing to see,” Younger said.
Silence stretched across the room.
Archer’s gaze flicked to Cannon. “Cipher.”
He didn’t say it like a guess.
He said it like the answer. Cipher targeted Echo—was behind their deaths. He could have sent someone to get to the stores first.
Cannon held his stare for a beat. “We need more. O, dig into the lot numbers. Start there.”
O picked up the bullet and turned it beneath the light. “On it.”
Cannon looked over the team. “Move out.”
They didn’t need a second order, not with the smell of food pulling them straight to the kitchen.
Archer reached it first, stopping dead as he set eyes on Jolie, standing at the stove in oversized sweats and a loose thermal shirt that swallowed her whole. The outfit was more modest than anything she’d worn yet and somehow infinitely more dangerous to his self-control.
The cuffs of her shirt were rolled to her wrists and the waist of her sweats hung low on her hips. Her hair was pulled back in a careless knot that exposed the graceful line of her neck he’d worshipped just hours before.
He wanted to spend all night worshipping that delicate curve again.
At the sound of them, she turned and a smile broke over her face.
Her gaze found his and softened in a way that hit him harder than gunfire ever could.
It made him freeze in the doorway.
It made him wonder how the hell he was supposed to let her go.
* * * * *
Jolie had fed plenty of hungry men in her life.
Brothers who brought friends home without warning. Neighbor kids who conveniently appeared around dinnertime.
But she had never fed a team of armed men fresh off a mission.
And judging by the way they descended on the chili and cornbread, the appetite of men worked the same no matter their age or zip code.
From beneath her lashes, she stole a look at Archer. He was halfway through his first bowl before she’d even sat down.
He reached for another square of cornbread. “Whatever I said about the food around this place, I take it back.”
“You’ve been here five minutes, Monk. What do you know about this place?”
Jolie’s ears perked up at the nickname she never heard them use before. She also didn’t know how long he’d been here.
“I know this is the first decent meal I’ve had here.”
