Free dark ops 3 - Renegade by Catherine Mann Page A

when the mojo’s not with you.”
    “My thoughts exactly.”
    “I can always get another loadmaster for the final two flights before the big show.”
    Mason’s shoulders went back defensively. “No, sir. I’m fine. I simply thought the coincidence worth mentioning.”
    “Absolutely. It’s always better to talk through all scenarios. With that in mind, let’s see what our Pred buddies can bring to light.”
    The Predator pilot popped a DVD into the player. “This is all the footage we caught. We can’t look up, of course, so we didn’t see our man Smooth until he drifted into view.”
    Rex had already reviewed the footage in his office, but even so, seeing Mason lose it when he’d thought his crew died hit him in the gut all over again. Even stalwart Jimmy Gage cleared his throat.
    Vince leaned over and gave Mason an exaggerated goofy-ass hug. “Love you, too, my brother.”
    Low laughter eased the tension. Rex fast-forwarded to footage of Mason and the lady cop getting hosed down by the hazmat team, which, as expected, stirred the laughter louder.
    Werewolf clutched his gut, chuckling. “Nice boxers, dude.”
    Jimmy leaned toward Mason. “When does she get to meet your parents?”
    Mason stayed quiet for once.
    Vince popped the last of his doughnut into his mouth. “Sheesh, somebody is touchy.”
    Rex let their ribbing play out for a few minutes, a part of the whole squadron unity he used to be a part of before rank and position separated him. “Nice to know you take your work so seriously, gentlemen—and ma’am.”
    Gucci held up her hands in self-defense. “Don’t lump me with these bozos, sir.”
    “Understood.” Rex shut down the video feed and wrapped up the meeting. As the aviators filed out, he gestured for Mason to stay behind. “How are you doing physically?
    “Not too bad sir.” Mason subtly shifted his weight to one foot. “Sore, but otherwise okay.”
    “How’s your cranium? You want to talk to someone?” This kind of near death experience could mess with a flier’s head long-term if they didn’t sort it out up front. The air force had first-rate shrinks on staff with specialized training. “I’ll set that up. I think in your position, I might want to hash through a few things with a neutral third party. Get away from all this macho bullshit and spill it.”
    Mason’s jaw jutted. “Is this because of what I said about the bull’s-eye?”
    “I would say the same to anyone.” True enough.
    “I think it’s all good with me. I may be checking my six o’clock a bit more often, but I’m not ready for a straitjacket yet.”
    “All right, but I will ask again.” No doubt Mason was worried about admitting any perceived weakness impacting his career. It would take a while for all the new views on the acceptability of getting help to soak through the ranks. “You can be sure there is no foul from my view if you take me up on that offer.”
    “Thanks sir, I appreciate the concern, but that kind of help is for people who’ve been through something like Chuck.” Mason shifted the weight off his injured ankle. “I tried to stop by and see him before I left the hospital, but I heard he checked out. How did he seem when you saw him?”
    “He seemed good. He said something about his physical therapist being a real sadist, but apparently the guy worked a miracle, since Chuck is out of the hospital.”
    “That’s great. Really great. Hopefully you won’t have any of us to visit at the hospital again.”
    God, he hoped that was true. “And this camo dude cop you spent the past couple of days with in there, what’s your take on her?”
    “Tough, professional . . . prickly.”
    “Guards from her unit are supposed to patrol the border of Area 51 and stop overeager tourists from trying to sneak in. You were well past the border.”
    “She said she saw me parachute in and came to help.”
    Mason’s recounting sounded logical. Still, something seemed off. “It was mighty damn