Page 45 of Benny

Devin’s FBI contact was on standby as well.

“I’ve arranged for my ‘associate’ to be away,” Davenport said, somehow managing to make the air quotes audible.

“Care to elaborate on that?” Dev asked, his voice gone suspiciously reasonable.

“I do not. Let’s just say he and I became part of this under less-than-honest circumstances, and he’s still laboring under the delusion that this is a national security threat.”

“Ah,” Warren said. “The other Delta guy. I saw you two that day. Recognized you. Your partner even waved at me.”

Davenport’s face shut down. “That has no bearing on today’s actions.” He paused. “I’m going to pick up Hayes and bring him to the lab. I’ll send you the address fifteen minutes before I arrive, so be ready. If you want time with him and Overlander, tell your contacts to be there at two, which means they’ll be there at one-thirty, this being the government and all.”

He wasn’t wrong there, Benny thought. People in the military were always early, usually in increments of fifteen minutes, even the Air Force.

“Give me the address now,” Devin ordered, and Davenport just looked at him.

“No. For this to work you can’t go all cowboy and show early. Be ready to rock by 1300. Trust me, that’ll be more than enough time with those two.” His expression went sour.

“When you arrive, split up and clear the building, just in case. It’s not over-large, but we shouldn’t take chances.” He paused for a moment and Benny felt the man’s gaze drill straight through him through the video feed. “I think it’d be smart for Drake to hang back. His return from the dead will be a good diversion if we need it.”

Benny automatically started to protest, but then thought on it for a moment, before nodding. “I’m a healer, and not as comfortable with weapons as Cali is. It’s a solid idea.”

Devin had been stewing more than a little as Davenport laid out the plan, and Benny understood that it chafed—hard—for him to cede control to the Delta operative. But they could only work with what Davenport was willing to give, or be shut out entirely, which none of them wanted. So he wasn’t overly surprised when Dev piped up to put in the last word.

“Benny gets to decide what to do with them,” he said, and his tone was pure granite. “He deserves that much.”

The concept, and the consideration, hit Benny like a blow. He wasn’t sure he wanted full responsibility for Hayes and Overlander’s futures.

“Think about it,” Dev said, correctly reading Benny’s reticence. “We’ll figure it out as we go, but you get first call.”

He could work with that, though the concept still made him uncomfortable. Not in making a decision, but in potentially making the wrong one when he didn’t have all the variables.

He looked at his watch. It was 0830 now. That gave them all more than enough time to fuel up and mentally prepare. And, more importantly, time for Benny to decide exactly what he wanted to say and do when he finally stood face-to-face with the people who had tortured him, killed him, and somehow failed to make him stay dead.

~

Jordan and Benny rode with Tate, while Devin, Clay, Warren and Cali were in a separate SUV. Jordan suspected Tate was with them because Beth wanted him to keep an eye on her brother, which Jordan understood and wholly approved of since she’d be keeping an eye on him as well.

As promised, Davenport had texted the address giving them enough time to arrive before the FBI and OSI. At precisely 1310, they pulled in front of an abandoned building two blocks from their target.

They’d all dressed in what amounted to St. Michael’s tactical wear that Dev had couriered to them earlier in the day: EMT-style pants, Kevlar-blend long-sleeved shirts and sturdy boots. Nothing that screamed overtly of military or law enforcement, but gear that had enough protection to give them an edge if everything went sideways.

Benny had changed Jordan’s dressing before they left and marveled at how fast she was healing. “You may have gotten the best of both worlds,” he’d told her. “You heal at a higher rate, but you’ve got the speed and agility too.”

Jordan had shrugged it off, but he wasn’t wrong. She was healing much faster than she normally would have, and what had been an angry graze yesterday had already scabbed over and was beginning to close. It was also considerably less painful than it’d been even earlier in the day.

They stepped into what was an unseasonably cool fall day in Vegas, a tight-knit band of warriors with decades of experience between them, even Devin, although most of his work had been clandestine or social rather than military.

As they walked, Dev and Cali took the lead, which made sense because they’d always been the alpha pair.

Jordan remembered back when Clay had healed six weeks ago, when everyone had started placing bets on how long it would take Dev and Cali to finally get together. Jordan had been the only one who’d abstained because, in her mind, it just wasn’t right to bet on the love lives of your teammates.

Now she kind of wished she’d gotten in on the pool, because the two were talking in low voices, so no one else could hear them, but as usual, their exchange was animated and hovering right on the edge of an argument.

They weren’t something as simple or easy as an enemies-to-lovers trope in a romance novel. They were two strong personalities who clashed more often than they meshed, and yet somehow, the healer and the CIA agent had managed to create a focused, family-oriented unit.

Kind of like her and Benny, she supposed. The healer and the cop. Except she and Benny had already figured out how to fit together once.

Maybe Dev and Cali would eventually get there too.