Their Personal Hell
THEIR PERSONAL HELL
August 20th, 2024
Bo Beckett
“Y ou can’t keep me here forever!” Nassim yelled.
“You won’t live that long.” I walked out of his cell and locked the door. Shira was still standing by the one-way mirror, and I had only one thing left to say. “The reason he won’t give us anything is because he doesn’t know shit. He’s low-ranking cannon fodder.”
She inclined her head. “We’ve come to the same conclusion. What do you want to do with him?”
I eyed the fucker through the window and sighed. “We’ll give him another week or two, and if nothing else comes up, I’ll take care of him.”
“I support that decision.” She gestured for the next door. “Go grab your lunch. If you don’t mind, I’ll let the Tenleys have another go at Nassim.”
By all means. Not that I thought it would lead anywhere. “All right, see you later.” I walked out and headed for the elevators.
What little intel we’d gotten had come from Nassim’s personal belongings. We’d traced two phone calls to Cairo, one to Stuttgart, and one to Galveston. But we already had eyes on the two other Hahn associates there, and they hadn’t moved since they’d arrived in Texas. We believed that was because of the lack of a signal, possibly from Nassim—or a higher-up who was supposed to hear from him. And now, they undoubtedly assumed he’d been captured or killed. What that meant for their next move on US soil, we didn’t know. But at this point, we could no longer justify lockdown protocol or extra protection for my sister and mother.
We’d installed better surveillance for them, but we had no reason to believe the Hahns knew who my family were. That was the thing about my involvement with Hillcroft. I’d never once tried to hide my identity; I served under my name, and my apartment was in my name too. Instead, Vince and I had removed all traces of our family members. We’d severed all public ties that could link us to Kat or our parents. And there was no fucking way someone had been following me this year. Not only was that part of my specialty in the field, but we’d been extra careful because we knew the case hadn’t been solved yet. Nobody would ever find me on social media, and my lease allowed me to change trucks every three months—a lease that was under the name of a shell company owned by Hillcroft.
I’d thought about this so many times the last couple of weeks. I’d hashed it out with Coach and the guys in Intel too, and the verdict was the same. My family could not be linked to me unless I was being actively followed.
* * *
August 23rd, 2024
“What did the break-in result in?” I asked.
“Fake IDs. Shitty ones too,” Coach replied. “The Galveston fuckers are about as important and useful as Nassim.”
Fucking naturally.
“We expected this, though,” he pointed out. “They never send anyone of importance in the first attack.”
True.
So, I was just gonna stand here with my dick in my hand and wait for the second.
It was the only reason I was keeping Alex with me. The only reason we’d made Hillcroft our temporary home. She was gonna be homeschooled starting next week too. I wasn’t risking it. Besides, my brother-in-law was on his way home, so Kat was busy packing up their house. It wouldn’t be fun for Alex there anyway.
When we reached the first floor, we parted ways. Coach was getting a late lunch, and I had my South America class.
All twelve recruits were seated already, and I walked over to the whiteboard and grabbed a pen. Leighton was seated in the middle row closest to the door, as usual.
Something had happened to his mood this week, and I feared it was my fault. I’d just…realized I was spending a little too much time with him. He was way too fucking easy to talk to, and I honestly lost track of time around that kid.
It wasn’t healthy. If he got attached to me…
Who’s getting attached?
I clenched my jaw and wrote a question on the board. One I knew the recruits had been itching to ask for a while, but they’d wisely kept their mouths shut.
Why are we learning about South American wildlife?
I faced the class and avoided looking at Leighton.
A handful of hands went up in the air, and I nodded at Gabriella.
“Because chances are we’ll spend a lot of time there if we become operators?” she guessed.
I nodded. “That’s one of the answers. Anyone else? Riley?”
“To be able to defend ourselves and treat wounds if we get bitten by a snake or whatever,” he said.
I pointed my marker at him. “Let’s dig deeper on that one.” I faced the board again and started making a list. “It’s definitely required to know your local jungle pharmacy when we drop you in one of these countries, whether you need to make a poultice to treat a wound or you’re hauling up leeches to use them as natural blood thinners.” I underlined the latest item I’d jotted down. “But first and foremost… Make enemy territory your own . We’ve all read the books. We’ve seen the documentaries—US troops in Vietnam… The terrain was unlike anything they’d ever experienced. Diseases, the wildlife, the climate—all of it. Up until you can utilize it, it’s a weapon pointing at you. The moment your boots touch the ground, you’re at a great disadvantage.”
By now, all of them had opened their notebooks to take notes, and it was impossible not to notice the pink one Alex had picked out for Leighton. It stood out.
“We’ve gotten a good start with some species and plants already, but I wanna make one thing clear,” I went on. “You cannot dig deep enough. It’s not enough just to know about the existence of caimans. I want you to know their breeding season, their warning tells, and the force behind their jaws clicking shut. You need to know that encountering an anaconda is likely no problem at all, but if you see a tiny-ass bullet ant, hightail it the fuck outta there.”
Tanner eagerly raised a hand, unable to sit still. “And don’t get bitten by a Fer-de-lance.”
“Absolutely not,” I agreed. “There’s no one there to take you to the nearest antivenom drive-thru.” I folded my arms over my chest. “But you know what? Your enemy might use one of those snakes against you. What’re you gonna do then? Say he finds your camp, and he unleashes four or five of them right by you. Do you run away? Do you stay calm? How do you pick one up? Do you know what provokes them and how quickly they strike?”
It was almost comical how exhausted the recruits suddenly looked, and I couldn’t blame them. It was a lot to take in.
Zander raised his hand, and I nodded.
“What if I want to specialize in the Middle East or Africa? Do I have to learn everything about their flora and fauna too?”
“The short answer is yes,” I replied. “The long answer… We go where the contracts take us, and considering the implosion of the Blanco cartel in Colombia last year, we can predict that we will spend the next few years in and out of that area. Additionally, the age of specialty zones is almost behind us. If you learn Farsi or any other language from the Middle East, of course you might end up on the short list for assignments there—in which case, you do need to learn what can kill you in the field. But there’s a reason we’re encouraging you to learn Spanish, Russian, or Mandarin.”
* * *
August 30th, 2024
What I wanted to know was why Leighton suddenly felt the need to go to a damn bar with Tanner. What happened to being careful? Even though we’d ended the lockdown, we should be mindful.
Someone logical might argue that Leighton and the other recruits weren’t facing the same threat I was. But whatever. It still irritated me. Even more so when Leighton continued opting to sit on his own here in the cafeteria—or with Alex. How about he met up with Riley and Tanner to study in the library instead? Or he had lunch with them? That was the social interaction he needed. Not to go to some fucking bar where you couldn’t hear each other over the music.
Was Leighton back on Tanner’s “list”? Were they using each other to…relieve stress?
I made a face and finished the last of my dinner.
At this hour, it was just Alex and me in here, and the kitchen was about to close.
She was busy with her coloring book and humming to herself.
“Did you and Leighton have fun today?” I asked.
She stopped coloring abruptly and narrowed her eyes at me. “I don’t know who that is.”
What—oh, for fuck’s sake. She wanted me to use his nickname.
“I’m not calling him Nugget. That’s something between you two,” I told her. It’d been a fun story the first time, how Leighton had apparently eaten “a bajillion” chicken nuggets for lunch, and Alex had gasped and pointed at him, and she’d cried out, “You’re Nugget!”
He, in turn, had nicknamed her Lemon for lemonade.
I’d rather call them Chuckles and Giggles, to be honest. That’s what they were always doing when I saw them—if they weren’t reading in disturbing silence. Sometimes you couldn’t even get through to them. As if they were focusing so hard that the outside world disappeared.
Alex huffed and returned to her coloring. “Nugget is so right. You’re cranky a lot.”
What the fuck?
I wasn’t fucking cranky.
* * *
September 1st, 2024
“Can you be a little less vague?” I asked, adjusting my earbud.
Doc chuckled on the other end. “I don’t know what else to tell you, Bo. He’s doing all right. I do still have my concerns about how closed off he can be, but I see improvements from his first session. He’s a bit more talkative, and watching Alex a couple times every day seems to do him good.”
I hummed and took the next exit. “She wants me to invite him for our aquarium day.”
Both living at Hillcroft and now homeschooling Alex there…? Even I had quickly realized I was going to need to overcompensate in the area of activities and outings. Taking her with me to the grocery store and for quick visits with my sister wasn’t enough. So, once a week, we did something special, like go to the zoo, to a museum, hit up a hiking trail, or…the most awful one. Visiting a toy store. And, next up, a trip to Baltimore’s aquarium.
“Hmm. I’m not sure that’s wise,” Doc said. “The lines are fairly blurry already.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” Unfortunately. It would’ve been fun—but with Leighton having his dynamic with Alex… I had to reinforce the boundaries of his being my recruit.
“Can we discuss you now?” Doc asked. “You’ve mysteriously been sick your last two sessions.”
I nodded to myself. “It’s called the breakfast flu. I feel perfectly fine after ten or so.”
Doc didn’t miss a beat. “That sounds terrible. Let’s schedule an afternoon session, then.”
“Do you want me to get the afternoon flu?”
He sighed. “Bo.”
I didn’t have time for this shit. “Can we do this another day? For a benched operator, I sit in your chair a whole fucking lot. A chair that’s very uncomfortable, by the way. You can’t lie down.”
“I had a sofa once. Operators tended to fall asleep on it,” he mused. “And for the record, you’re not benched. You’re working your old assignment, aren’t you?”
If he was gonna bury me in semantics, I wanted to wrap up. “I’m about to lose my signal, Doc, but it’s been a pleasure as always. We’ll count this as a session.” I ended the call and made it onto the dirt road.
I slowed down at the first gate and rolled down my window, and I inserted the code.
The gate opened slowly, its sign welcoming me to a company that only existed on paper.
Kat thought that was an excellent time to call, and it was best not to dodge it. I understood why she was worried about Alex, and with any other kid, maybe I would’ve been worried too. But that girl was turning into the Hillcroft mascot at this point. She said hello to everyone, high-fived several of the operators, and was ridiculously easy to please. Just keep her busy with books, her favorite markers, a coloring book or two, and some toys.
“She’s at her sleepover at Em and Danny’s,” I said. “She’s literally surrounded by puppies and Em’s nephew’s children.”
Kat exhaled a laugh. “Hello to you too! I wasn’t calling to fuss over anyone but you.”
Oh, joy.
“What have I done now?” I slowed down at the second gate and reached for the lockbox, where I inserted a key and punched in a second code.
“Kristen called me today.”
I grimaced and scrubbed a hand over my mouth. That was a closed fucking chapter. Why the hell would she go and call my sister?
“Is it true that you haven’t talked to her since you broke up?” she asked.
“Why would I talk to her again?” I drove through the gate and continued down a narrow, bumpier dirt road with nothing but trees and darkness all around. “She said if I wanted to work things out, I could call her, but I don’t. I was a shit boyfriend, and she wasn’t great either. She thought she could change me, and I stubbornly made her my target for my last-ever attempt at committing to someone.”
I wasn’t doing it again. This past year, I’d seen her once a week at most, and I’d been late to almost every dinner. I hadn’t been able to stay past the meal—hell, I wasn’t sure we’d slept together a single time in six or seven months, and whenever we had, I’d woken up with an insane urge to escape before her alarm went off.
Attraction was tricky with me. Like a flip of a switch, I could go from “Yeah, okay, let’s give this a go” to “Honey, you make my skin crawl.”
“It’s always the same story with you, isn’t it?” Kat sighed. “It happened with Tara, with Emily, with…”
“I vaguely remember their names. Go on.”
“Well… Do you still talk to Adam?”
I furrowed my brow. “We have our once-a-year beer around his birthday in February. Why?”
Kat cleared her throat. “He once made you question your sexuality.”
Uh.
“What the fuck are you smoking?” I asked. The trees parted up ahead, and a beat later, the facility got caught in the headlights. It looked pristine as always, yet abandoned and ghostly at the same time. Just a white-painted box-like structure nestled in the thicket. “There’s absolutely no reason for you to rehash a confused fourteen-year-old’s?—”
“Don’t downplay it,” she responded abruptly. “You can’t blame me for wanting you happy, Bo. And if you’re living in denial of some sort?—”
“I’m not in denial about anything,” I chuckled. It was my turn to cut her off. “I’m also not blaming you for shit. I just think you’re overdoing it because you’re afraid I’m gonna be alone now that you’re moving.”
Frankly, the day couldn’t come soon enough.
To think I was, what…gay or bi, all of a sudden? For chrissakes. No. Our folks had been weirdly accepting and inclusive all our lives—even our old man—so that whole thing had never been a stigma in our family. Hell, I’d spoken openly about my so-called confusion as a teenager. It hadn’t been a big deal. But after messing around with Adam and a couple other guys, I’d just found it way easier with girls.
I was by no means good with them, as my exes could attest, but at least I knew what I was supposed to do. Be present, listen to her, compliment her clothes, send her flowers for Valentine’s. Shit like that.
With guys, I’d felt…uncomfortable. Not all the time, not at work or wherever, but in those few moments I’d contemplated wanting… more .
“You might be ten percent right,” Kat said eventually. “Eric told me something similar, and I’m not surprised. You’re men.”
I sucked my teeth and parked in front of the building. “That’s sexist. I thought you were more progressive than that.”
I could definitely envision her rolling her eyes.
“Ten percent seems low,” I added and killed the engine.
“That’s what I’m giving you,” she answered stubbornly. “I still believe you’ve compartmentalized things for so long that you don’t have the faintest idea of what you actually want, so you go with these outdated cookie-cutter ideas of what relationships are supposed to look like. And you’re not cookie-cutter, Bo.”
Man, she exhausted me.
“I have zero energy for this.” I jumped out of the van and slammed the door shut, then trailed over to the entrance. “Why don’t you tell me what you think I should do, and then I can pretend to agree.” Third code to punch in, thankfully with keys that glowed in the pitch-black nothingness.
Once the door was open, the hallway was lit up, and I could see properly. Kat was undoubtedly about to give a grand speech, but one of my nephews saved my ass by crying in the background, diverting Kat’s attention.
“Give me a sec, Bo.”
Finally, a break. “I can give you way more than that.”
I returned to the van and opened the back, where I had Nassim on the floor in his semi-open body bag.
I hauled him out with a grunt, and he landed on the ground with a thud. Oh shit, he groaned. He was waking up—he wasn’t supposed to wake up. Had someone fucked up the dosage of the sedative?
Oh well. This would be over soon.
I dragged him indoors and closed the door behind me. The place smelled the same as always, like a Hillcroft affair we didn’t talk about. As in, just a whisper of something for the very few who came here. There was a faint, faint smell of something chemical, and that was it.
Coach had been here this morning, and everything was ready. I dragged Nassim into the second room and flicked on the lights, and the first thing I saw was the display next to the incinerator. A toasty 1672 degrees.
My sister was gonna have to wait. She was busy anyway.
I ended the call before I lowered the table in front of the incinerator, and I glanced down at the body bag. Nassim’s face was just barely visible.
“Next time, don’t join a crime syndicate and try to kill people,” I said. With the table at ground-level, I rolled and pulled Nassim onto the wooden board. “Here’s a fun fact,” I grunted. “Did you know the human body will boil first if you don’t burn it with something like wood or cardboard?”
Next came the workout of yanking the body bag away from the guy.
Considering he was waking up more and more, it was best to get this show on the road. I raised the table again, then opened the incinerator the exact moment my phone went off again.
“Fucking seriously .” I huffed, out of breath, and took the call. It was Kat again—who else? “Don’t you have better things to do?”
Based on all the sighing she did around me, the answer should be yes.
I pushed the fucker into the oven, right into the scorching flames, and I felt the heat swell over me. Not nearly as much as he did, though. He twitched and groaned, and I promptly shut and locked the door?—
“It’s my job to worry,” Kat said.
“Uh-huh.” I set the timer for Coach, and then I was finally done. “To be honest, you’re making this much easier. I can’t wait for you to head west.”
“You think we don’t have phones in San Diego?”
I cursed.
* * *