Remember Jamie Baker (Jamie Baker #3)(33)

I looked up into his big, chocolate eyes and smiled. “Well, Maka Nani, I’d say your mother got it right.”

The large man winked. “I’d say the public got your name right too, Angel.” He waved a hand at the other two men sitting beside Tyson. “This is Johnny G and Shortstop.”

Johnny G was average height for a guy, and had mocha skin and caramel eyes. His dark hair was shaved in a buzz cut and he was covered in tattoos. I imagined the ACEs recruited him from a boxing ring. Shortstop, on the other hand, was his opposite. I’d noticed last night that the pale redheaded man stood not quite eye level to my five foot eight, and while he was muscular his build was lean and compact. He was tiny, but obviously still strong. Scrappy. “Are you a baseball player?” I asked, curious about the nickname.

The question made Tyson, Eyes, and Johnny G all snort with laughter. Even the major chuckled quietly under his breath. “He wishes,” Johnny G teased. “We call him Shortstop because he’s short.”

Shortstop rolled his eyes, but his mouth curved into a smile. “You can always call me Patrick if you’d like, Angel.”

I glanced at the top of his head and smirked. “Why would I do that when Shortstop suits you so perfectly?”

We all had a good laugh, and when it died down I looked at Johnny G. “Okay, I can’t guess yours.”

Shortstop grinned. “John here plays a mean saxophone. Hence, Johnny G.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“After Kenny G,” Johnny G explained with a sigh. “He’s a famous saxophone player.”

“Like, the only famous saxophone player,” Eyes added.

“Seriously,” Shortstop said, shaking his head. “Who decides to play the saxophone? Guitar, drums…even the piano. But the saxophone? That’s extremely dorky. And embarrassing. Our fearless team leader is a former high school band geek.”

Johnny G took the ribbing gracefully, with only a roll of his eyes. But it was funny. He appeared so tough on the outside. I couldn’t picture him playing the saxophone. Laughing again, I turned to the major. “So what’s your nickname?”

Major Wilks cocked his brow, and when that didn’t make me stop waiting for an answer, he said, “Major.”

“Original.”

Major Wilks couldn’t hold his serious expression. His lips curved up and he said, “I also accept sir.”





The guys told me a little about the base and what they do while I finished my lunch, and after that Major Wilks offered to take me on a tour. Tyson jumped to his feet and scrambled out of the cafeteria after us. “Can I come?”

Major Wilks lifted one of his eyebrows into a skeptical arch. “Can you keep your mouth shut if you tag along?”

“Silent as the grave,” Tyson promised.

The major stared down at Tyson’s hopeful face, and although he heaved an exasperated sigh, there was a hit of endearment in his eyes. The major acted like a tough guy, but he definitely had a soft spot for the kid. Silently he began to walk again, giving Tyson a nod as if to say, “Come on, then.”

Tyson grinned and took my hand, tugging me along after Major Wilks. “Have you seen the command center yet?” he asked. “It’s so cool!”

I laughed. There was no way he’d be able to stay quiet on this tour. We got about five feet before Johnny G cleared his throat to get our attention. “Sir,” he asked Major Wilks, “would it be all right if we tagged along also?”

Johnny G, Shortstop, and Eyes were all waiting with curious expressions. Major Wilks sighed. “It appears you have a fan club, Angel.”

Eyes threw his arm around my shoulders to give me a friendly hug. “She’s one of us now, sir. Just trying to make our newest ACE feel welcome.”

Major Wilks shot me a smug look that I chose to ignore. “I’m not an ACE yet.”

“We’ll convince you soon enough. It’s in your blood, Angel.”

As we toured the facility, Major Wilks explained to me that while there were close to five hundred people stationed at the base who knew about the ACEs, only about two dozen people were actually part of the ACE team. There was his main recon team, which was the group of eight guys who’d come to my rescue yesterday. Then there were a handful of researchers, technical people, doctors, scientists, and trainers.

All of the men giving me the tour said that the ACEs were a tight-knit unit. A family, in a sense. I knew what they meant. I was starting to feel that bond. It was a pretty irresistible feeling. Already I felt more whole than I’d felt the entire six months I’d spent alone with Teddy.

The facility was made up of the lounge, mess hall, barracks, command center, training center, detainment center, infirmary, debriefing room, and a number of private offices and guest quarters—which Major Wilks informed me was where my room was located.

The command center looked very much like something out of an Avengers movie, except for it being underground instead of in the sky. There were a dozen different stations that had fancy computers and four or five monitors apiece, and they were all facing the front wall of the room, which was wall-to-wall screens.

My heart panged a little with grief when I walked in the room. Teddy would have loved it. It was like his office in the desert safe house, but on some major steroids. Then I saw the guy sitting in a chair at one of the main stations, hands flying over the keyboards, face buried in the monitors, head bopping along to whatever techno music was playing in his large headphones, and felt another stab close to my heart. The guy may as well have been Teddy’s cousin.