No,my inner voice of reason protests, supportive for once instead of skeptical.Youarecapable. Just as capable as anyone else here. It’s all in your head.
Before I can debate it, we reach the small cluster of trees and duck inside them. Ace’s arm comes around my shoulder, pulling me into a small huddle with him and Indy, and partially shielding me.
I know he wouldn’t do that with any of his teammates. But I’m too wound up with nerves to pay much attention to the difference, aside from being grateful for the brief contact.
“Everyone okay?” he asks in an almost inaudible tone. His hand moves to my upper arm and gives it a reassuring squeeze.
“Okay here,” Indy whispers.
“Fine,” I reply quietly, though I’m not entirely sure I believe it. “Good to go.”
“Alright.” He touches his comm and says, “Ready to move on your signal.”
After a beat, Rafe’s voice comes through our ear pieces. “Hold. Ty’s just checking the scanner again.”
In the seconds that pass while we wait, Ace turns to me. His face is hidden by his goggles and black face paint. “It’s going to be fine,” he whispers. “Before you know it, we’ll be back home.”
I grab hold of his confidence and tuck it close.
It’s going to be fine.
My worries are all in my head.
I’ve run ops like this before. I can do it again.
With a deep inhale, I let it out slowly. Softly. Quietly. And with it, some of my fear.
Ace says it’s going to be fine. And I believe him.
Our comms come to life again. “Still five inside,” Rafe reports. “Good to go?”
“Ready,” Ace replies.
He squeezes my arm again.
He knows I’m scared, though I’d never admit it. And even now, he’s trying to comfort me.
Emotion slams into me, stealing my breath.
God, I love him.
“On a three count,” Rafe says. He pauses. “Three. Two. One?—”
And we go.
Exploding into action, we dart off into the night again.
The danger builds the closer we get to the building.
Our chances of discovery grow greater.
But I refuse to let myself think about it. Refuse to let the doubting thoughts intrude.
As we run, I scan our surroundings, searching for any sign of activity. Headlights. A flashlight bobbing. Voices. The small snick of a trigger cocking.
But there’s nothing aside from the sound of our footsteps.
About five yards out from the building, Ace whispers, “One of the windows is boarded up. Northeast corner. But not the others.”