In the empty locker room Hunter hastily changed, collected his gear then ran to join the knot of men waiting outside for their ride to the tarmac. He’d left Celia’s, pushed the truck into triple digits and gratefully hadn’t encountered the local authorities. Still he was late. He was never late. Most times, he was the first to arrive. “Glad you could make it,” Bambi called out, erasing any chance he had to ghost unnoticed into the group. “Maaan, she must have been good to make you late,” Kirk said. “Shut the fuck up.” He shot the man a wicked look along with a middle-finger salute. Wrong thing to do. That only encouraged the bastards. Until they were on the plane and engine noise drowned them out, he was the recipient of a shitload of sexual remarks that were as bad as any newbie hazing he taken when he came into the teams. They were on their way to Nevada for combined mountain and desert training with the Army and scheduled to be gone for two weeks. Normally the moment they made altitude he’d be asleep but the way he left Celia bugged the shit out of him.
