Colt stood, facing the flames, fierce, a trickle of blood down his face from a cut in his forehead, and for a second Ranger was a kid, watching his brother drag in a bear carcass, filthy, smelly, bloody, and triumphant.

And Ranger felt it anew. Someday his brother was going to come home in a body bag.

But maybe he was right. Mission accomplished. And no casualties.

Not yet, at least.

Bam. Ranger held up his fist.

Colt grinned, then, again. “Not bad for your last gig, huh?”

His last gig. Ranger was trying not to think about that.

“Hey Colt,” Roy said and walked over to him. “I think this is for you.” He handed him his mask.

Colt’s grin vanished. He made a face, then grabbed the mask and put it on. “Thanks.”

Roy gave him a nod, his mouth tight.

North had picked up one end of a container, Skeet on the other, and ran behind Jake and Ham, who had the other containers. Fraser, Colt, and Ranger spread out to protect them from any snipers left on the grounds as they ran toward the dock. Logan and Roy were waiting for the FBI to arrive to secure the Russians.

Orion pulled up in the big boat that Ham had procured for the team.

Ranger grabbed up his gear from the hiding place, then piled into the cigarette boat that Dodge drove.

Colt jumped in with him. He banged Dodge on the shoulder before going to sit a few feet away from them.

Dodge glanced at Ranger. “Don’t tell me.”

“Yep,” Ranger said.

“Let’s go home,” Colt said, his voice a little muffled. “I’m hungry.”

Dodge shook his head as he pulled away, in front of Ham’s boat.

Ranger sat on the edge, in the back, and pulled off his hood, his face to the morning. Okay, fine.

Not bad for his last gig.

And over the horizon to the east, dawn lit the water with a bloody trail of light.

At least she wasn’t crying.

Tae sat in one of the patio loungers, the heat rising with the sun, now simmering fire red across the horizon, staring south.

Waiting.

They’d been gone six hours. She knew because she’d joined Noemi on the patio deck as they’d watched them leave. No teary goodbyes, not even a kiss. Ham had asked them to stay inside until after the crew left. Something about keeping them focused.

Yeah, maybe he was right. Because last night, as Colt had kissed her, he’d seemed anything but focused on his mission.

Although maybe that’s why he’d kissed her with such urgency, such hunger.

Then again, everything about Colt was urgency and hunger. He’d pulled them back into the sand, and by the time they’d come up for air, she’d found herself cocooned in his arms, the tide nipping at their toes.