After the briefing, the others dispersed. Calder moved with intent, rechecking gear and collecting his men like he was building a wall around us. Mercer stayed at the comms table, fingers flying, sweat gathering at his hairline.Harlow drifted toward the back like he had all the time in the world.I followed him without making it obvious.He stopped near the loading bay door and pulled out his phone, holding it low. One thumb moved fast across the screen. Then he looked up, caught me watching, and didn’t flinch.“Problem?” he asked, voice light.I kept my face flat. “You texting your wife?” I asked, letting it sound like sarcasm.Harlow’s mouth curved. “You jealous?”I stepped closer, slow. “No,” I said. “I’m careful.”His smile didn’t change, but his eyes sharpened a fraction. “Careful gets men dead when it turns into paranoia.”“Paranoia gets men dead when it turns into trust,” I answered.We stood there for a beat. The air between us tightened, not because either of us moved, but be
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