Status Updates From Defending Allye (Mountain M...

There's just something so freeing about teaching little kids. For the most part, they haven't learned to be critical of their bodies or each other.

dance community is actually smaller than you'd think

can’t wait to pass that on to Rex. Vengeful Veterans. Classic.”

“But mercenaries are guns for hire. Like, they go where the money is and don’t care about right or wrong, good or bad. They’re all about the money. Aren’t you more like vigilantes or something? Working around the law to do what’s right and good?”

of course he kept them naked, as wild animals should be.

“Sailors, not soldiers,” he repeated. “You never call a SEAL a soldier.”

“I have what’s called heterochromia iridum, which is a rare condition where one eye has less pigment than the other. It has something to do with my genes.”

Shivering was good. It meant her body was fighting the cold and working to warm itself.

…..

“Sip slowly. I know you’re thirsty, but if you guzzle it all down, it’ll just come up again, and you’ll be in worse shape than you are now.

Lowell Lockard. Otherwise known as Black.”

…..

“Please, call me Black. I don’t even know who Lowell is anymore.

“Trust me, kitten, any guy gets to this point, he’s not going to give a shit if you’ve got a little hair on your legs or not.”

“There are one hundred and eighty-seven quintillion gallons of water in the Pacific Ocean. That’s sixty-two-point-four million square miles. If karma had it out for you, as you claim, there’s no way that boat would be headed straight for us right now. No one would find us out here . . . especially not in the dark.

BUD/S—basic underwater demolition training for SEALs—

“On average, there are an estimated ninety thousand missing people in the United States in any given year. Roughly forty thousand of those are female.

“Six-five.” “Good grief. You’re a giant.” He couldn’t help but guffaw. He really liked how she didn’t beat around the bush. “I’m not sure I would go that far. But yeah, I’m tall. You?” “Five-seven.

“I don’t care if it’s an adoptive mother, a foster mom, or a biological one, every kid deserves to be the apple of a mom’s eye.”

“You’re a dancer, yeah?” She nodded. “Uh-huh. With the Dance Theatre of San Francisco.” “Ballet?” Allye rolled her eyes. “Why does everyone think every dancer does ballet? No. I mean, I can do ballet, but it’s not my thing. I do pretty much every other type of dancing. Modern, jazz, ballroom, even some tap.

“Why don’t you cry?”

“Because it doesn’t do any good. All crying does is make others uncomfortable and make you miserable.”

“Crying is a good way to release emotion. If I’m around a kid, and he or she is crying, it tells me that they’re hurting, physically or mentally.” “And if a woman cries?” Allye asked. “Then I have to figure out who I need to beat the shit out of or kill.”

“Allye. Like the space between two buildings, but the y comes before the e.”

“Ready to go, kitten?” “Why are you calling me that?” “Because you have two different-colored eyes. I had a kitten like that once. You remind me of her. Wide-eyed and innocent, but every now and then, she’d let me know she wasn’t to be messed with by scratching me with her claws.”

Gray is 36, Allye is 29.

FUBARed―f#cked up beyond all repair.

(I thought the “R” stood for “recognition”.)

The dry suit was imperative for swimming in the Pacific. The water was way too cold for a simple wet suit. Wet suits allowed for the easy flow of water in and out of the material, whereas a dry suit kept water out.

He switched from a freestyle stroke to a breaststroke, so his movements wouldn’t be seen from the vessel if anyone was watching the dark waters.