Chapter 1
Alec
I had made the right decision in getting back to work.
Honestly, I hadn’t realized I had missed it.
However... the nightmares... I wasn’t missing those.
Not at fucking all.
Just then, my satellite phone rang.
I checked it and then answered it, “Sir?”
His raspy voice came over the line, “Glad to have you back.”
Then he disconnected.
I knew why he was saying that.
I had just gotten intel for them that they had been desperately needing about a coordinated attack that was going to rock half of the Middle East.
And we couldn’t allow that to happen.
I had also finished the sessions and the tattoo I had, was now gone.
Bros Before Hoes Text Thread
Ethan – Would it be illegal to shove a boy’s face into the toilet?
Garrick – How old is the boy?
Ethan – Nine.
Garrick – Yeah.
Ethan – Shit.
Carter – What’s going on?
Ethan – Some little punk keeps trying to kiss Melanie at recess.
Me – Have you thought about telling his parents?
Ethan – And be a tattletale?
Garrick – .......
Carter – ........
Me – ..........
Ethan – Fuck. Yeah, I did that a lot. Didn’t I?
Garrick – Yeah.
Carter – Yep.
Me – Uh Huh.
Garrick – We all got grounded for a month because you wanted to know if the mustard would mess up the boy’s car.
Carter – He had a shit car.
Me – He did.
Ethan – Alright. Fine.
Carter – Dinner at our house tomorrow night.
I hated missing these things. Family was the most important thing you could have.
They were there for you when you needed them.
Yeah, I know some families aren’t like that.
But then you have to remember that not always is a family made of blood.
But anyway, I thought about what I could say to get out of it.
But Garrick beat me to it.
Garrick – Text Tink what to bring. Alec, you’re going straight to that campus in the morning. Right?
Thank fuck.
Me – Yeah. Sorry Carter. Give Harlee a kiss on the cheek for me, yeah?
Carter – You got it.
Carter – Okay, Garrick. I’ll text Tink what to bring.
Garrick – Fucker. You know what I meant.
Ethan – Melanie will be with Fred and Ginger, but I’ll be there.
***
A dream I was having about a faceless woman with long black hair was just interrupted when the alarm on my watch went off.
I growled low in my throat.
That dream was getting good, too.
Fuck me.
I’ve been celibate for three years now. I sighed.
New Man, Alec.
New Man.
Checking it, I silenced it, then turned off my phone, and shoved it in my bag.
I stood up, stretched, and then grabbed my gear, and headed to the Humvee.
Three hours later, we were all in position.
The lead, Hyde, was the first to radio in, “And now we wait.”
“Copy,” Smoke said.
“Roger that,” Ice piped in.
“Copy,” I said.
“10-4,” Wolf said.
“Got it,” Jekyll said,
And then we waited.
Six hours in the blistering heat wasn’t for the faint of heart.
Normally, I was back at HQ, waiting for my target to be brought in.
However, this particular target had been elusive for three years.
The same amount of time, that I had told them I needed a breather.
You usually didn’t get a breather in the military.
But I was a special case.
I only reported to two people in the world.
The president of the United States.
And my handler. Tyron Knight.
That didn’t include my team.
Sure, I worked with other individuals.
And normally, they were told not to touch me, and to let me do my thing.
And then other times, there were those who didn’t understand and wanted to know.
Didn’t they know that curiosity killed the cat?
Or in this case... curiosity got you killed.
I thought about that as I stared at my target, who was strapped to a chair by cuffs on each wrist and ankle.
Then I asked, “Where is the next planned IED?”
He didn’t make a sound.
And to that, I smiled.
My entire team, the ones with whom I worked closely, stood there with their M4s at the ready.
Another team I often worked with, Seal Team Two, also stood there with their M4s at the ready.
And a few other soldiers who needed the intel were there.
And one of them... the woman who hadn’t stopped complaining about the methods I was using, had just run from the tent, and wretched.
Huh.
She didn’t like seeing fingernails pulled back with a pair of tweezers... who would have thought.
Yes, at first, I hated what I did.
Loathed it, actually.
Just because you were damn good at something didn’t mean you had to make a career out of it.
That was until I watched as five young children walked into a mosque full of pregnant mothers, and blew themselves up, killing all those women and unborn babies... I had committed then.
Committed even more to finding the assholes who had ordered that to be done.
They were the lowest of the low.
And if killing them made it easier for my loved ones to sleep at night, then so be it.
At that thought, I smiled and kept working.
An hour later, I walked out of the tent with my team behind me as the medic ran in, side-eyeing me as he did so.
So, he wasn’t a fan.
Noted.
After we all ate, got shitty ass fucking showers, we all hit the sack.
I pulled my phone from my bag, powered it on, and waited.
Thankfully, the usual messages that awaited me didn’t come.
Probably because if they weren’t a close friend or a family member, I had deleted their numbers that night after Garrick and Tatum had brought Sage home from the hospital.
Curmudgeon Text Thread
Talia – Alec? I heard a rumor the other day.
Garrick – Oh, fuck.
Carter – Shit.
Ethan – Thought he was a changed man.
Talia – Alec?
Carter – Where you at boy?
Ethan – What he said.
Garrick – Shit. Forgot. He’s teaching a class. Be back in a few weeks if they don’t send him elsewhere.
Talia – Teaching? Alec? Seriously?
Ethan – What the fuck? Teaching?
Carter – .......
Garrick – Yeah. Y’all know he goes from university to university teaching about science and shit. Guest speaker.
Carter – Shit. Forgot.
Ethan – How’d I forget about that?
Talia – I’m still on the teaching thing.
I made a mental note to send Garrick a package as soon as I could that had all the makings of the Sidecar in it... excuse me... The Charger.
See, when Garrick first met Tatum at Carter and Harlee’s house, he had been making a drink. And when he told Tatum about it, she asked if it didn’t have cognac or bourbon in it, was it really called a Sidecar?
Garrick had shaken his head, and so, Tatum, being Tatum, she renamed it, The Charger , after Garrick’s 1967 Charger.
It was fitting.
I closed out my screen.
Thankful as fuck that I had remembered to change the settings on my phone to show that a text was delivered and not read.
Then I powered it back off and closed my eyes.
Three more days.
Three more days and I would be back home.
A shower.
My bed.
A steak.
A puss... no.
Not yet.
***
“You ready?” Wolf asked.
I lifted my chin.
I tagged my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and exited the barracks. Or rather, what justified as the barracks.
The sweltering heat, the dryness in the air, the way sand seemed to lodge itself into every pore, the very moment the wind blew by... I hated it.
The rest of my team was waiting for me.
Apparently, they didn’t like that I had left to get a breather for a bit.
They all were sticking close.
The moment we entered the tent, I heard a woman ask in a nasally sort of way, “Umm. Why is he here?”
Every single member of my team rolled their eyes.
And then... thirty minutes later, after I had the information we needed, she was looking a little pale.
Smoke chuckled as he slapped the paper he had written the information down on into her waiting hand, “That is why he is here.”