Page 19 of Black and Brown

“Got three approaching east, fifty yards.” Spectre’s words were crisp and sharp.

Grace pivoted, his every step deliberate and calculated. He took both shots, then the third without looking.

The sharp crack of gunfire reverberated through the air and into Mirage’s sternum.

The battle program the geeks had created hurled hologram hostiles at them, as many as five at a time, which flickered and disappeared in a haze of light with each successful hit.

“Four o’clock, beyond the brush, you got one closing in at thirty feet.”

Mirage threw five knives at once over Grace’s shoulder, each hologram showing the blades embedding center mass before disappearing behind Grace’s back so fast he was barely seen.

“They’re gonna try to trick us now…stay sharp.”

Mirage was already getting used to Spectre’s voice.

The suits watching must’ve expected Grace to do most of the eliminating, assuming he’d use his firearms as the quickest means of killing. But their surprise showed as they tried to keep up with the blades Mirage seemed to produce out of thin air.

By midday, Grace and Mirage were feeding off each other’s energy, reacting to one another’s body language.

Somehow, Mirage knew where Grace needed him to be and vice versa.

They didn’t communicate verbally. During the six and a half hours they ran simulations, neither uttered a word.

None were needed.

Mirage could understand Grace by listening to the cadence of his heartbeat and watching the muscles flexing in his back and the pulsing in his temple.

The hours passed in a blur of intense physical exertion and mental discipline, pushing their bodies and minds to the max.

The three of them together were fucking impressive.

Their handler’s unwavering certainty and quick directions were key to their victory.

At the end of the day, as the sun dipped behind the horizon, Spectre had been right.

A silent understanding had formed between them, a bond forged in the lines of danger.

There was not only trust but also respect between the three men.

Mirage

The connection between him and Grace grew exponentially over the next eight months.

The chemistry and camaraderie with Spectre surpassed all expectations, even when the suits had stopped showing up to observe them.

The operators of the simulated battlegrounds threw everything at them—assassinations, hostage situations, witness recoveries. They tried every trick they had to trip them up.

All had failed.

After six months, their movements were so synchronized it looked as if they’d been training together for decades.

Grace was still as emotionless and silent as he’d been the first day they met, and that hadn’t changed throughout the extent of their training or when in private discussing strategies.

For a while, his partner’s lack of verbal communication had driven Mirage up the wall and down the other side.

But over time, he understood that Grace spoke to him in many different ways.

Mirage still experienced annoyance, solemn memories, and despair but also immense admiration…and horniness.