“Sugar’s an ATF agent. ATF. Alcohol, tobacco, and firearms, not some military operation. Not some…” His pulse pounded. Tunnel vision was in full force, and he couldn’t put the words together. It didn’t make sense. Jared swallowed his reactions and refocused. “You mean to tell me Sugar’s on the side of a goddamn mountain in Afghanistan, and we fucking left her there?”

Parker nodded.

Jared threw Nicola’s phone across the room, and it shattered. No one moved.

His chest tightened. “Unmute it.”

Parker flicked the remote, and a news anchor’s voice filled the room. “…but what we do know is a state department spokesperson reports that diplomatic efforts are being made, but since this woman made an unsanctioned trip to—”

“Turn it off.”

The screen went black.

“Diplomatic effort? They just sent us there and didn’t tell us there were two fucking people.” He took a growling breath. “Unsanctioned, my ass.”

They all nodded, knowing it had been an official op gone bad. The government pulled this shit, and then had Titan fix their mistakes. Often.

“What’s a fuckin’ ATF agent doing in Afghanistan?”

No one answered. Probably, no one knew, but he didn’t care. Jared slammed his hands onto the table. “Parker, find out. Now.”

Roman and Brock slipped into chairs at the table, and everyone sat there, with the exception of Parker, who’d likely started hacking into every classified federal database that existed.

Jared dropped into his chair and scrubbed a hand across his face. “Her name is Lilly, and she’s a Taliban playtoy right now.”

“You didn’t know her name?” Cash asked, raising his eyebrows. Jared knocked a glare at Cash, who threw his hands into the air. “Sorry, man. Thought you two were vibing.”

“‘Vibing?’ Shut it, Cash,” he growled.

“You two aren’t… weren’t?” Winters asked.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. No. She’s our arms dealer. She’s part of the Titan network. I don’t have to fuck everything that’s hot. Case in point—Nicola.”

Cash smirked. “Easy, man. Leave my wife out of that comparison.”

“And don’t say that shit about my sister.” Roman sneered.

Nicola rolled her eyes. “I think we all thought that you and Sugar… saw eye to eye on some things.”

“Everyone, shut the hell up.” He needed to think. Goddamn, my gut aches. Not his leg or his shoulder, where fresh wounds were healing, but his gut. “Gear up. We’re going back in.”

No one moved. This wasn’t his typical “calm, cool, collected, plan everything to the nth degree, then execute” reaction.

“Now!” He slammed his hands on the table.

Brock stood up, looking ready to pull the second-in-command card. “We don’t have a contract.”

“She’s our girl, and I owe her more than one favor.”

“We don’t have State Department approval.”