Chapter 3

Shawn's POV

Martin Steele, the executive officer, opened the door and walked in.

"Captain Weber, headquarters just issued us one of the new top-of-the-line bomb suits. There's only one unit. How do you want to assign it?"

Claire glanced at me instinctively, her lips parting slightly. I spoke before she could, and both our voices rang out in the office at the same time. "Give it to Andy."

Martin was left dumbfounded, while a painfully awkward look crossed Claire's face. She cleared her throat and quickly tried to explain, "Right. Andy's the rookie. His conditioning and his nerves aren't up to par yet. Better equipment could save his life."

Martin hesitated. "But Shawn handles most of the dangerous missions. You—"

Claire cut him off before he could finish. "It's fine. Shawn's a veteran. He can handle the pressure, and he'll manage with his old one."

Martin said nothing more, simply nodding before leaving. As soon as the door shut, the tension in the office shot through the roof.

Claire pressed her lips together and looked at me, seemingly wanting to say something to smooth things over.

I gave a bitter, self-mocking smile. "No need to explain. I get it. Give the good gear to the rookie so everyone can see how selfless our captain is. We have to keep our distance, right?"

Claire's brows knitted together. She strode over, put an arm around my shoulders, and spoke in a soft voice.

"Shawn, you've just been run ragged lately. The stress is getting to you. Tell you what—I'll cancel everything else this afternoon and personally go with you to your routine psychological debriefing. You need to relax."

Bomb disposal officers were under extreme pressure for long periods, so psychological debriefing after every major operation was standard procedure.

That afternoon, I changed into loose, comfortable clothes and headed to the debriefing room alone. As soon as I reached the door, I heard Andy let out an exaggerated sigh from inside.

"Captain Weber, the amulet sewn into your jacket is just so unique. Every time I close my eyes lately, all I see is the bomb countdown. I have nightmares every night. Could you give it to me to help me calm my nerves?"

I instinctively held my breath, waiting for Claire's answer. The next second, the sound of scissors snipping came through the door.

"Take it. And if the nightmares come back, call me. No matter how late it is, I'll pick up."

I suddenly remembered our very first mission together. After barely making it out alive, I held her tight, still shaken by how close we'd come to death, and I couldn't calm down for the longest time.

Back then, Claire had pushed me away without hesitation. "What are you doing, hugging me like that? What if someone sees us? Shawn, you're too fragile."

I took a shaky breath before opening the door. Andy was fiddling with the amulet my dad had left behind.

Seeing my expression, Claire instinctively stepped to the side and shielded Andy behind her. "Shawn, why didn't you knock before coming in?"

The way she immediately went to protect Andy cut deep, and my vision was starting to blur. "Claire, that's the last thing my father ever left me! What gives you the right to hand it to him?"

Seeing me lose control, Claire stepped forward and hissed in a low voice, "Have you lost your mind?! It's just an amulet! I'll go out and get you a bunch of them later if that's what you want! Don't make a scene! Do you want the whole squad to come running over and find out about us?"

The injury on my wrist throbbed painfully as she gripped it, but even that pain was nothing compared to the agony in my heart.

Seeing her look at me with such anger was the final straw.

I slowly pried her fingers away from me and spoke calmly. "Claire, from now on, I don't want anything from you. I just want my dad's amulet back."

Claire froze at the lifeless look in my eyes. The next second, the highest-level alarm began to blare through the corridor.