Laboriously, she pushed up to her hands and knees. She didn’t have the strength to climb to her feet just yet. Man, she was tired. Simple kneeling made her light-headed.

“Throw that over here!”

“You know you’re an asshole, right?” she called, reaching for the pole.

“Don’t you dare,” he snarled.

“Thing is, I’m a team player at the end of the day, Grundy. And I have a modicum of human decency that you lack. You’re never going to be a SEAL because you only think of yourself, and everyone knows it.”

“I take care of my team.”

“You only take care of them so they’ll take care of you. You’re selfish. The instructors know it. And you’ll ultimately fail.”

“Shut the fuck up, and hand me the damned pole.”

“You’re missing the point, Grundy.”

“Which is?”

“Now would be an excellent time to apologize for all the garbage you’ve pulled on me since INDOC.”

He stared at her across the gap, and she stared back, pointedly not passing him the end of the pole. He looked away first.

So. He did have a soul. And he did know he’d been a shithead to her. That was something, at least.

“Why are you doing this?” he finally asked.

“Consider it one last chance to get your act together before you wash out of BUD/S,” she said firmly.

“Fine. I’m sorry. Now give me the pole.”

He didn’t mean it for a second, but an insincere apology was better than nothing. And just because he was a jerk didn’t mean she ought to be one, too. She passed the long pole over the pit, and he grabbed the end of it.

“This is too flimsy to hold me and my pack,” he complained.

“Fine. Climb the arroyo walls. It’s no skin off my nose,” she retorted.

Mostly because her hamstrings were cramping like big dogs after her sprint to vault the pit, she leaned forward and planted her hands on the ground to stretch while he made his way across the obstacle.

Hanging underneath the pole by his hands and feet, Grundy crossed the pit. He flopped to the ground beside her and rested for a few seconds before pushing up to his knees. They knelt side-by-side, panting for a minute, at the edge of the pit.

“Tate?”

“Yes?”

“You’ll never be a fucking SEAL.” He gave her a hard shove, and she toppled over the edge of the pit, screaming.

Thankfully, the weight of her ruck made her do a half somersault on the way down, and she landed on her back, the ruck cushioning her fall. Still, it hurt like hell. Laughter drifted down to her as she passed out from a combination of exhaustion and impact. And then there was only blackness and silence.

Chapter 20

Griffin’s earpiece crackled, and Vidmeyer’s voice transmitted into it, “Grif, you on freq?”