Page 1 of Iron Shield
ONE
The first thing Special Operator Jack Rome noticed was that their commanding officer stopped talking.
And for a man who could brief an operation through heavy artillery fire, that was unusual.
Rome looked up from the intelligence packet spread across the table.
What finally told him the briefing was about to go sideways wasn’t the report. It was Cannon reaching for the bottle of aspirin he kept within arm’s reach of every meeting.
He ripped off the cap, shook a few into his palm, tossed them into his mouth and swallowed without so much as a sip of water.
Their leader sat back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose—never a good sign. For the past hour, Sierra had been chasing disconnected intelligence across three continents, trying to find the thread tying it all together.
The one who did was usually Rome.
The trouble was, he couldn’t find it. Judging by the silence around the table, neither could anyone else.
A loud crack echoed through the war room as the door burst inward, slamming against the concrete wall.
Every head snapped toward the sound.
Jolie stood in the doorway, breathing hard.
Rome frowned. The newest addition to the Sierra team base never interrupted briefings. She wasn’t even permitted in the war room.
“We’ve got a problem,” she blurted. Her cheeks were red and her eyes wide with…
Fear.
Archer, aka Monk, jolted to his feet, fists curled and ready to end any threat that came at the woman he broke the rules of Blackout to keep.
“What’s the matter?”
She held up her phone, mouth opening and closing, but no sound came out.
Rome’s spine locked, because whatever global disasters Cannon was briefing them on a second ago was about to take a back seat to whatever Jolie had brought through that door.
The woman shouldn’t be here at all, let alone interrupting.
Monk crossed the room in three strides and wrapped his fingers around her upper arms. “What happened?”
She finally found her voice. “My phone,” she croaked.
Rome exchanged a look with Rivers, silently questioning if the woman required medical attention. Rivers, the team medic, didn’t move.
Cannon set the aspirin bottle on the table with a rattle. “Start talking, Jolie. Which one of your siblings called?”
Her throat worked on a hard swallow, and she looked past Monk, who still held her by the arms.
“Stina,” she said.
Cannon pinched his nose again. “You don’t have a sister named Stina.”
The room groaned as one.
Rome shot a hand toward Rivers. “Told you. Pay up.”
Rivers shook his head. “You didn’t bet that she’d answer the phone during a briefing.”
