October 1st, 2013 by Theresa
No way. No way in hell.
Song watched the projected images pushing down panic. Slides of the mission terrain flashed along with pictures of the hostages. The Captain relayed the details. Sweat trickled down her back. Song folded her arms to cover rubbing sweaty palms on her sleeves. Her stomach roiled and nausea beat at her throat. She missed hearing the time the volunteers would deploy.
Doesn’t matter. No way am I jumping out of a perfectly good airplane with a pillowcase on my back.
Song bolted for the door only to have her way blocked. Duke. The only man in the world who could push her buttons.
“What do we have here?” His drawl grated on her nerves. The annoyance of his presence pushed back her queasiness. “Miss Song not going on a mission? Is there something wrong? You missing your big chance to show me up? Looks like I’m the right ‘man’ for the job – again.” He grinned – the shit-eating grin he always wore when baiting others.
Face hot, Song’s hands curled. The pounding in her ears pushed back the fear and nausea.
He’s pushing you. You know it. You don’t have to do it.
Duke blew her a kiss.
Her fist moved in a blur. In a flash, Duke was on the floor, nose bleeding heavily. Breathing heavier, Song marched back into the briefing room.
“I’m in.” She held out a shaking hand for her orders.
No way in hell am I ever doing this again.