Olivia opened the door. A tall man with a broad chest and a duffel bag stepped into the room. “Eric Hawkins,” he said. “I’m a member of Omega Three.”

“Hawkins!” Sam and Slick said in unison, shock ringing in their voices.

“Slick! Sam! What the hell!” He looked around at the others. “What the hell is wrong with this picture? Five women, one guy. Oh, no. No, no, no!”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Sam said. “What’s the matter, Hawkins, you afraid of us women?”

“There must be some mistake. Isn’t it girls versus boys? I don’t get it.”

“What I don’t get is how the hell did you get here? When and where were you recruited? Do you know anything about this place?” Sam demanded.

“I was sitting in a bar with a couple of guys, and this little man came up to me and said he needed to talk to me about the FBI. I was just too pissed off at the FBI to listen to what he had to say. Did I also say I was drunk as a skunk? I was. The guy actually drove me home to my apartment, and when I woke up the next morning, he was in the kitchen. He offered to make me a cocktail guaranteed to get rid of the Queen Mother of all hangovers. I took him up on it. Then he made me another offer. He knew everything about me, even that I was a tighty whitie opposed to a boxer guy. I was ripe to be recruited. I signed on, and here I am.

“As to what I know about this place, I know squat, but here I am.”

Sam nodded.

Slick eyed the good-looking guy standing in the middle of the living room. At the FBI Academy he’d done his best to help her with the firearms class. She could hardly believe, considering his size and the breadth of his chest, that he’d washed out for the same reason Sam had—lack of upper-body strength. “I wouldn’t make an issue of being the only man in this group, Hawkins. Hey, what could be nicer than five women and one guy,” Slick said, hoping to ward off what might turn into something ugly.

“I’d be willing to bet five bucks one of the other teams has five guys and one woman,” Sam said.

Kayla, Olivia, and Zoe ogled the man standing in front of them. Sam correctly translated the look to mean Hawkins was prey, and they were the predators. God help Eric Hawkins.