Page 6 of Cole

The descent was brief, and when the doors opened again, he stepped into the heart of LSIMT's operations center. The underground space hummed with quiet efficiency. Computer workstations lined the walls, their screens displaying data feeds from around the world. The Keepers' meeting area occupied the center of the room, a collection of tables and chairs arranged for both collaboration and quick briefings.

His boss, Logan Bishop, stood at the main display screen, arms crossed, as he studied what appeared to be satellite imagery. Sisco Aguilar leaned against a nearby workstation, coffee cup in hand. Landon Summers hunched over a laptop, fingers flying across the keys. The quiet click of a keyboard came from Sadie Hargrove, who sat reviewing mission reports.

"Cole." Logan glanced up, his expression neutral but welcoming. "Good timing. We're just reviewing the Hernandez situation."

Cole grabbed a chair and spun it around, straddling it backward as he settled in. "The cartel operation in New Mexico?"

"That's the one." Sisco straightened, setting his coffee down. "Looking like it might need air support if it goes sideways."

"I'm available." Cole crossed his arms over the back of the chair. "What's the timeline?"

"Still forming up." Logan pulled up another screen, this one showing terrain maps and coordinates. "Todd and Sadie are doing initial reconnaissance. We'll know more by the end of the week whether we need to mobilize. But I might need to send Timothy, because a security system analysis request came in."

Cole nodded as the conversation flowed easily, each Keeper offering input based on their expertise. This was what Cole appreciated most about LSIMT. No ego, no territorial bullshit. Just professionals doing the work and trusting each other's skills.

Jim Devlin wandered in from the equipment room. "I was looking at some of the new camera equipment that came in. Bert did a phenomenal job with the last order."

Mary barely looked up from her tablet. "He's already got the weapons inventory and the new security system installation scheduled."

"Where is Bert anyway?" Landon asked.

"Upstairs, dealing with a delivery." Mary's fingers moved across her screen. "New communications equipment. He's verifying the shipment."

Cole listened, absorbing the compound's sounds and rhythm, waiting to see what assignment was coming his way.

Logan looked over and nodded. "Okay, I’ll need you to head to Alaska tomorrow morning. We’ve got a contract pending for a security system. Not a new house but new owners. You’ll meet with Charles Penson, owner of a mining company in Alaska. Plan for two days… maybe three.”

"Not a problem." Cole twisted to check his tablet, seeing the information already loaded. “I’ll plan the flight.”

“I have your hotel and rental vehicle secured,” Mary said with a smile and her typical efficiency. Just then Bert Tomlinson walked in, and her smile widened. She and Bert had been sweet on each other for a long time but had just recently gotten together.

Cole grinned as he looked at the two of them. He worked on his flight plans for an hour. Once they were registered, he knew he’d have time to pack that night.

He made his way through the underground facility, past the equipment room where weapons and gear lined the walls in organized precision, past the gym where someone was running on a treadmill, and back to the elevator. His muscles ached for a workout. Flying kept him sharp mentally, but the physical work kept him grounded.

The gym was outfitted with enough equipment to keep a team of former special forces operators in fighting shape. Cole changed in the locker room, pulling on workout shorts and a faded Army T-shirt that had seen better days.

The weights felt good in his hands. He worked through his routine methodically, the burn in his muscles a welcome sensation after hours of stillness in the cockpit. Bench press, curls, shoulder press. Each movement deliberate and controlled. The same discipline his father had taught him about flying applied here, too. No wasted motion. No rushing through the hard parts.

Aldo Caspani, known as Casper, appeared halfway through Cole's workout, moving to the squat rack without a word. They worked in companionable silence, the only sounds the clink of weights and their steady breathing. Cole appreciated that about Casper. The former Delta operator didn't feel the need to fill every silence with talk.

"Heard you're flying out tomorrow," Casper said after a while, racking his weights.

"Yeah. Got a security installation analysis to do." Cole grabbed a towel, wiping sweat from his face. "You?"

"Nah. I'm on desk duty for another week. Willow's got a book signing in Billings this weekend and wants me there." Casper's expression softened slightly when he mentioned his wife. "Logan says I can take the time."

"Boss is good," he said, sitting on the bench and wiping his face. “Tell Willow good luck.”

"Thanks, man." Casper stood, a smile on his face as he headed for the showers. "Good night."

Cole swallowed a chuckle. Casper was his typical quiet self until it came to Willow, and then the man always smiled.

Once he finished his workout, he hit the showers, letting the hot water work out the last of the tension in his shoulders. By the time he emerged, clean and dressed in jeans and a fresh T-shirt, the sun had started its descent toward the mountains.

The bunkhouse called to him. Not home anymore, but still a place where he belonged. Where easy conversation and cold beer waited with men who understood what it meant to serve something greater than themselves.

He grabbed his keys and drove the short distance across the compound, parking beside Cory Brighton's beat-up Ford and Timothy's newer Dodge. Frazier Dolby's truck sat next to those, and his brother Dalton’s motorcycle leaned on its kickstand near the porch steps.