Epilogue
June 5
Connor stood at the bar in the rented ballroom of the Ithaca Marriott drinking and shooting the shit with his brother and his Unit and Cobra buddies, music thrumming through rented speakers.
“To the friends who never came home—the true heroes.” He raised his glass.
“To the true heroes.”
“Cheers.”
He tossed back his first whiskey in months.
Ryan, his younger brother, refilled his glass and made another toast. “To my brother, the bravest man I’ve ever known.”
“To O’Neal!” Nick Andris raised his glass.
Andris had fought beside Connor in the Unit and gotten Connor his job at Cobra. His wife, Holly Andris, worked as an intel expert for Cobra and had come from the CIA, like Shields.
“Given the situation, I’ve got more questions about those five days you and Ms. Lahiri spent alone in the jungle,” Tower teased.
Laughter.
Across the room, Shanti danced with Taj. She was wearing Connor’s favorite blue sari, her hands, wrists, feet, and ankles painted with henna, Connor’s name woven into the intricate designs on her skin. Oh, how he’d love to peel off that sari and enjoy her decorated body. The only downside of this whole getting married thing is that they hadn’t slept together since his parents had arrived in Ithaca.
Thank God that would end tomorrow night.
Connor grinned. “You can ask, Tower, but I’m not going to answer. I don’t work for you anymore.”
“Jungle love.” Cruz nodded. “I want an assignment like that.”
“Hell, yeah.” That was Jones.
“Where do I sign up?” Isaksen said.
“This is your fault, Tower,” Corbray grumbled. “We need to hire more female operatives.”
Howls of laughter.
McManus didn’t look happy with that idea. “You think a lass can do the work we men do?”
Shields plucked the olive from her drink. “Shanti did—apart from the shooting.”
“Och, well…”
“What’s wrong, McManus? Cat got your sexist tongue?” Elizabeth walked off, a teasing smile on her face, henna on her hands and wrists, too.
The women had held a henna party this morning, while Connor, with the help of his dad, Devesh, Ryan, Taj, and the Cobra guys, had set up the party tent and the four-pillared frame for the canopy that would cover the wedding platform.
“I hear you got into Columbia University,” Tower said. “Congrats.”
“Isn’t that an Ivy League school or some shit?” Corbray asked.
“Can wenottalk about that tonight? I’ve got other things on my mind.”
“You nervous or something?” Tower asked.
“Hell, no. Marrying Shanti is the smartest thing I’ve ever done.”