Chapter 17
Talon leaned back on his bunk after kicking off his boots and grabbing a bottle of water.
Jug took the floor because the one chair in his room was about as comfortable as a waiting room chair.
Plastic, no give, and zero thought given to comfort.
Jug opened his water and took a chug. “Ready when you are, Skipper.”
“Dude, we’re ready,” Talon said and took a drink of his water.
“When they go live, you’ll have Ronan, Jason, and Gabby on the line.” Dude’s low growl was fierce tonight.
“Copy.”
“What do they want to talk about?” Jug asked.
Talon shrugged. “No idea.”
“Couldn’t be about that email, could it?” Jug asked and laughed as Talon flipped him off.
“It’s about the email,” Ronan said. “How you doing, Jug?”
“Well, that’s a voice from the past.” Jug chuckled. “I’m fit, fast, and damn happy to be alive.”
“Married life agrees with you, or so Talon tells me,” Ronan said after he laughed at Jug’s fit and fast comment.
“Can anyone join this conversation?” Gabby asked.
“Absolutely,” Talon said. “Please join, or these two will cluck all night long. Like two broody hens in a coop.”
“And you know about that how?” Jug asked.
“Grandpa Frank.” That was Jason King’s voice. The CEO of the company got instant attention and respect as everyone shut up when he came into the conversation.
“Roger that,” Talon said and leaned forward, automatically invested in the conversation. Jason King was Talon’s uncle, and Grandpa Frank had influenced the entire family. He and Grandma Amanda were the rock of the extensive family.
"All right, let's get down to business," Jason said, his voice carrying the authority that had built Guardian Security into what it was today. "Talon, that email of yours lit up some conversations here, in DC, and in Burundu's capital."
"Good or bad conversations?" Talon asked, though he suspected he knew the answer.
"Both," Gabby interjected. "The Burundu government wasn't thrilled about us essentially telling them their equipment was garbage and their timeline was suicide."
"But," Ronan added, "they also weren't thrilled about the idea of losing an entire SRF team on their first real mission because they were undertrained and underequipped."
Jug shifted on the floor, getting more comfortable. "So, what's the verdict? Are we pulling out or doubling down?"
"Doubling down," Jason said firmly. "Way down. Four-year commitment, Talon. You and your team are going to be the foundation of a permanent training facility."
Talon felt his eyebrows shoot up. "Four years? That's … significant."
"It gets better," Gabby said, and Talon could hear the smile in her voice. "Or more complicated, depending on how you look at it. They want permanent infrastructure. We're talking concrete buildings, proper barracks, a real chow hall, medical facilities, climate control, the works."
"Jesus," Jug muttered. "That's not a training rotation. That's a deployment."
"Exactly," Ronan confirmed. "The Burundu government has agreed to extend training cycles to six months minimum, provide proper equipment, and I mean proper, not the Soviet-era hand-me-downs you've been dealing with, but in exchange, Guardian commits to a four-year presence with you as the core training cadre. "
Talon took a long pull from his water bottle, processing. "What about rotation schedules? You can't expect the same team to stay here for four years straight."
"We've thought about that," Jason said. "Eighteen-month rotations for most personnel, but the core leadership—that's you, Jug, and your team—would need to stay for the duration to maintain continuity. Of course, you'd get regular leave, and families could visit."
"Wait," Jug said, sitting up straighter. "My wife is going to be between assignments. I won’t get to go home?”
“Your wife is a doctor, right?” Ronan asked.
“You know she is.” Jug frowned and looked at Talon.
“Did you catch the part about medical facilities?”
Jug’s jaw went slack. “You mean you’d offer her a job here?”
"With proper compensation," Gabby added quickly. "Hardship pay, family relocation allowances if you choose, educational benefits for dependents. This isn't just a mission anymore. It's a career assignment."
Talon leaned back against the wall. "And the training timeline?
Six months minimum, you said?" His mind popped to Riley, who had a permanent position at the mining camp just down the road. This was turning into a win-win for both Jug and him. The rest of the team, he’d give them a choice.
They could hook up with another team if they needed to move, but as far as Talon was concerned, teaching the SRF was a fucking important job, and he was damn sure going to make sure they were trained correctly.
"That's right," Ronan confirmed. "The Burundu government finally admitted that rushing teams through training was politically motivated and not operationally sound. They're willing to invest in proper training if we're willing to invest in proper infrastructure."
"What kind of infrastructure are we talking about, specifically?" Talon asked. "Because right now, we're running PT in a field of dust, and our 'classroom' is a tent that's seen better decades."
Jason chuckled. "Complete overhaul. Climate-controlled classrooms, proper range facilities, urban warfare training structures, medical facilities, communications center. The works. We're looking at about eighteen months to get everything built and operational."
"Which means the first year and a half is going to be interesting," Jug observed. "Training teams while construction crews are building around us."
"That's the challenge," Gabby agreed. "But think about the advantage. You'll be able to design the facility as you build it. Input from active trainers on what actually works versus what looks good on paper."
Talon felt a surge of excitement despite the magnitude of the commitment. "And equipment? Because I'm not training another team with AK-47s that jam every fifty rounds and night vision that was outdated in 1995."
"Modern equipment," Ronan assured him. "The Burundu government has agreed to purchase through Guardian's procurement network. You'll get the same gear our domestic teams train with."
"Now, that," Jug said, "changes everything. Actual working equipment?"
"Revolutionary concept, I know," Gabby said dryly.
Talon found himself nodding slowly. "Okay, but you guys really need guarantees. No handshake deals, no political promises, right?”
“Correct,” Jason agreed. “Contracts. Six-month minimum training cycles, equipment standards, and infrastructure commitments. All of it in writing and in the works.”
"Legal is drafting the memorandum of understanding now. But I need to know if you're in, Talon. I know this is a variation of the normal rotation of the team. Granted, we’ll have other teams come over for the construction phase and as part of the training cadre."
“Cobra team,” Talon said, and it wasn’t a request.
“I’m going to talk to Reece after this call. I don’t think I could keep him away.” Jason’s voice held a smile. Reece was Talon’s cousin, best friend, and Jason’s son.
The room fell silent except for the distant sound of someone working on a generator outside. Talon looked at Jug, who was studying him intently.
"What do you think, Jug? Ready to become African homesteaders?"
Jug grinned. "My wife's gonna be here, dude. The answer is hell yeah. If we can actually build something that works, something that keeps these guys alive when they go operational? Count me in."
Talon took a deep breath. "All right, Jason. We're in. I’d like to have input on the facility design. If we're doing this, we need to do it right."
"Wouldn't have it any other way," Jason replied.
"Welcome to the long game, gentlemen. Gabby will be your primary contact for the infrastructure development. Ronan will handle personnel rotations and family logistics. And, Talon? I agree, Ronan and Jug would cluck like hens all night long. Archangel is clear.”
“I’m out.” Gabby laughed before she cleared the comms.
“That wasn’t cool, man.” Ronan sighed.
Jug stood up. “But it was the truth. We would. Hey, Skipper, I’m going to go call Shelly, if that’s okay.”
“Sure, but remember, we haven’t finalized anything,” Talon answered.
“Got it. Can I tell the team?”
“Go for it. Tell them I’ll be over in the morning, and we’ll hash out any questions they have.”
“Copy.” Jug tapped his ear, clearing from the conversation.
Dude cleared his throat. “Skipper, if you guys are going to be there for four years, am I going to lose you as my team?”
“Unless you want to go to Africa,” Ronan answered when Talon hesitated.
“We could use your skills over here,” Talon agreed.
“Yeah, I could go, but maybe after you get the AC turned on. I can work remotely for you until then, just like now.”
Talon and Ronan laughed in unison. “Deal,” Talon agreed.
“Cool. I’m out,” Dude said with not a small amount of happiness in his voice.
“It wasn’t just your email, dude. The nephew of the President of Burundu is on your SRF team. He’s told his uncle you and your team are the real deal and that if Burundu didn’t want to lose the best thing to happen to it, they needed a long-term agreement.”
“Who’s the nephew?” Talon mentally ran through the team members. No one had acted privileged or pulled “my uncle is the Prez” card.
“Sergeant Kabila.”
“Son of a bitch. No kidding?” The sergeant who played hero. Talon shook his head. “I wonder if the shit he pulled was actually a test?”
“What shit?”
Talon told Ronan about the defiance and hero without a cape routine. “I had no idea he was connected.”
“You weren’t supposed to, I imagine.” Ronan mused. “You okay with being in country for four years? No more nomad lifestyle? I know Jug will be okay …”
“I’ll be fine.” Better than fine, actually. The smile on his face was because of Riley. Being assigned to one location for four years, especially near where she was working, was a gift. Christmas and birthday combined, if he were honest. “Hey, Ronan, is my dad in the facility?”
“Yeah, he’s here somewhere, why?”
“Could you have him come up on comms. I have something I want to talk to him about.”
“Is everything okay?” Ronan’s concern was immediate.
“Yeah, man. I’m good. Everything’s good.”
“Okay, hold on, I’ll find him.” Ronan’s comms went silent. Talon slid off the bed and grabbed another water out of his small fridge. Having decent structures and facilities for training would be a godsend in this climate, especially when the rainy season hit.
“Talon, is everything okay?” His dad’s voice held concern.
“Yeah, Dad. I needed to tell you something.”
“About the four-year contract? Are you going to do it?”
“Well, yeah, it’s a no brainer. But the reason why it’s a no-brainer is why I wanted to talk to you.”
“Okay, I’m confused and intrigued.”
Talon chuckled and sat his ass on that fucking abomination of a chair. “Well, remember back over a year ago when I pulled that woman out of the pirated ship? The one Shoemaker logistics hired us to recover?”
“Yeah, the yellowcake that wasn’t on the manifest. It was Shoemaker’s daughter, if I remember correctly.”
“You remember correctly,” Talon assured him. “We started talking when she was released from the hospital.”
“Talking?” His dad’s confusion made him chuckle.
“That’s a term people use now. It means we held conversations, ours were via texts because of the nature of my job.”
“Okay …” His dad was still not catching the drift of the conversation.
“She works over here now, and she’s … well, we’re in love.”
“Holy shit.” Jacob gave a disappointed laugh. “No fucking way.”
Talon frowned and leaned forward. “What’s going on? Why is this a problem?”
“Problem? No, no, it isn’t a problem, Talon. Your mom told me when you were home in December that you had a girlfriend. It was her, the person you were texting. It was the Shoemaker woman, right?”
“Yeah, and her name is Riley.”
“Shit.” Jacob sighed dramatically. “You realize I’m going to have to admit to your mom that she was right?”
“Should I say sorry? I mean you have to do that on the daily anyway.” Talon laughed when his dad groaned.
“I made a bet with her.”
“No way. What’s the bet?”
“You don’t want to know.” He heard his father scrub his face. “Let’s just say it involves me retiring and us going on an around-the-world cruise.”
“Holy shit, Dad. Why would you do that?”
“Because who has time to date when you’re working the schedule you work?”
“Ah, Ronan, Deacon, Jug, just to name a few. We aren’t exactly handcuffed to the missions, you know.”
His father groaned again. “Okay, right, I remember, but do me a favor, don’t tell your mom. Give me a week?”
“What are you going to be able to do in a week?” Talon took a long swig of his water.
“I don’t know, but I got to figure something out. I’m not ready to retire.”
“Then tell her that.”
“A bet is a bet, Talon. I always honor my word.” Which was true. He’d never known his father to go back on his word. Ever.
Talon smiled suddenly. “So, did you say when you were going to retire?”
“No, why?”
“Give Jason your letter of resignation, but date it two or three years from now. But if you tell Mom I suggested it, I’ll let Ronan know how to beat you in the ring.”
“My lips are completely sealed. I knew you were my favorite oldest son.”
“I’m your only oldest son.” Talon rolled his eyes.
“Damn good thing you're my favorite, then. Hey, Talon?”
“Yeah?”
“Tell me about her.”
Talon smiled and leaned back in the POS plastic chair. “Where do I begin?”
“Your choice.” His dad laughed. “I want to hear everything. Your mom will interrogate me, so give me all the info.”
Talon closed his eyes. “Dad, she’s amazing. Perfectly imperfect and my best friend.”
“Kiddo, that is the best foundation to have.”
“It really is.” Talon smiled. “How much time do you have?”
“As long as it takes, son. As long as it takes.”