Chapter 6
SIX
CAL - PAST
While the professor drones on, I notice my pocket is vibrating its heart out. Of course the woman has hawk eyes and is enraged when students check their phones during her class, but I’m about to take the chance just to see who wants me this badly.
Honestly, people rarely do.
The grumpy older man I visit occasionally has probably never called me in his life.
My mother would never call me even if she was on her deathbed and told to say her final farewells.
And besides a few friends from my time in the military, I don’t have anyone else…
and they never call. Why call when you can text?
I slowly pull just the edge of my phone out, and that woman’s eyes are immediately on me and they are not pleased. I pretend like I was just removing the phone to put it in my pocket for mere comfort when I see that the name on the missed call notification is a higher-up from the military.
I hesitate before standing up.
“Where are you going, Mr. Ward?”
“Sorry, it’s a military matter,” I say, even though I’m no longer in the military. It just sounded good, and while her lips purse and her eyes narrow, she doesn’t stop me. I step outside the room and return the call.
“Ward, it’s Lieutenant Allen,” he says the moment he answers.
“What can I do for you, sir?” I ask, not quite understanding why he’d call.
It’s not like I particularly know the man.
We’d rarely spoken, not having been stationed anywhere near each other.
I think the only time we had spoken was after he finished watching me train with my rifle.
He’d even gone out to the training field with me and asked to be my spotter for some training sessions with my rifle.
I remember being so nervous that I was afraid I was going to miss every shot, but thankfully I didn’t embarrass myself.
Afterward, he complimented me and went on his way.
But it made me feel good.
I didn’t get compliments very often growing up.
I could have brought home a letter stating that I was the smartest kid in my school and that the president of Harvard hand-delivered a letter of acceptance to me, and my mother wouldn’t have even said anything about it.
She might have even asked why I was bothering her with such nonsense.
She never wanted kids and she made sure I was well aware that she only agreed to have me because my father, who died when I was young, wanted children.
“It’s disappointing you moved on from the military. You were an essential role.”
“Thank you, sir,” I say, loving the praise.
“I’m hoping you’ll hear me out. We need a sniper, and the moment it was mentioned, I knew you fit the bill perfectly. The job is simple; you’re practically there only if things go wrong. And trust me, they can’t go wrong.”
“I’m… not in the military anymore, sir.”
“I know. We would be pulling you in just for the job. I’m well aware we have many trained soldiers and officers who I could enlist, but what I care about most is getting my team back safely, and if anything were to go wrong, I’d want you there to make sure they go right.
It pays, of course. It’ll be a couple of days in and out, and then you’ll be back to your normal activities. You’re going to college, aren’t you?”
“I am.”
“You’ll have a letter excusing you from all classes for the period you’ll be gone.”
“When… would this period be?”
“We’d leave Saturday.”
“Are we staying in the country?”
“The details of the operation will be explained if you accept. How about you think on it and let me know this afternoon?”
“Okay,” I say as I see the other students leaving the classroom.
The professor even peeks out to stare at me, like she wants proof I really am on the phone.
I finish up the call and head out to my car.
Instead of driving to the apartment I’m renting, I drive past the house I grew up in—which my mother still owns but barely visits—and over to the place next door.
I pull in and head up to the front door where I knock.
Of course he already knows I’m here because the crabby old man has nothing better to do than stare out his window and look for people to glower at.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” the eighty-six-year-old demands when he opens the door.
“Hey, Arthur. I got invited to do something for the military. Sounds like some… special ops thing or something,” I say, wanting to make it sound way more exciting than it probably is. Although, with Arthur, I could be like, “I’m about to protect the royal family,” and he’d be like, “So what?”
“You want a fucking party or something?” he asks, right on cue.
“I don’t know what to do. I mean, obviously I did shit while I was in the military… I even had to kill three people… and it weighs on you.”
“I’d like to kill at least three people a day. My ex-wife, that fucking mailman, and that stupid bitch who took over hosting my favorite radio station,” he says. “How much do you want to off that nasty woman?”
“Which one?”
“My ex-wife, of course. I should have smothered her in her sleep. My kids are shits, kissing her ass—they’re not going on my will. Bitch cheats on me, makes them think I’m the one who did it, and they side with her even though I had proof!”
And I know if I don’t stop him, he’ll go on a rampage about how awful they all are. Honestly, it sounds like it’s best for them not to be in his life, but being hired to eliminate the ex-wife is definitely not on my list of things to do.
“You can use my gun,” Arthur says as he wanders over to his safe and pulls his rifle out, then stares at the shotgun for a moment before settling on a handgun. “You can pick.”
“What if we go shoot out back instead?” I ask. “But first, can I use your computer?”
“Don’t be looking at none of that gay porn, you hear me? Only titties allowed on that computer. I heard you can put a wallpaper up; I want a wallpaper of some big ones, you hear me?”
“Sadly, I do,” I say as I go back into the room and boot up his computer.
He hasn’t updated it since the last time I did, so it’s running slow as hell until I get it back up to speed.
And then I go to Google, type in “Hunky hot guy in thong,” and pick my favorite before making it his wallpaper.
Once I’m done with what I needed to do, I head out to where he’s glowering at some children walking by.
They are doing absolutely nothing wrong, but their happiness must irritate him.
“You ready?” I ask.
“For you to get a life so you stop irritating me? Sure am.”
That makes me grin. “You are the worst.”
“Yet you’ve been coming over here and harassing me since you were a teenager.”
“You’d miss me if I didn’t,” I say as I grab the guns and head out the back door.
He follows me over to the golf cart, moving slower than he did in the past. I told him I got the golf cart because I was tired of walking, and he chastised me for days that I needed to shape up or no man would want my lazy ass.
But now he climbs right into it before I drive it out into his field a good mile from the house.
Once we arrive, I pull the chair out of the back and set it up.
“I don’t need no chair,” he grumbles.
“It’s for me, not you,” I say.
“Selfish little prick.”
“That’s me,” I agree. “I’m going to walk out there, so don’t shoot me, alright?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll try to remember. I’m not promising anything. All my friends can’t remember shit.”
“Well, if I end up bleeding to death out there, I will be well aware that you forgot.”
Arthur just laughs because he’s a sadist and is immensely pleased with himself. I walk out to one of the farthest targets and tape the paper over it before making my long trek back. By the time I return, he’s in the chair that he cursed out, taking a nap.
I set up the rifle before nudging him. “You’re going to sleep your life away at this point.”
“I wasn’t sleeping. I was just tired of looking at you. My eyes were aching from seeing your smiling face. Like what do you have to be so happy about?”
“Just seeing your misery makes me happy.”
“Ha. I see.”
I hand him the binoculars.
“Which target do you want me to hit?” I ask.
He looks through them before freezing and then starts laughing up a storm. “You’re killing me, kid.”
“It’s a bit morbid but I knew you’d love it,” I say as I look through the scope at the paper I’d taped on. It’s a picture of his ex-wife back when she was younger, hanging on the arm of the man she cheated on Arthur with.
“I love it. Go for the fake tits.”
“As you wish.” I shift my aim just a bit and pull the trigger.
That makes Arthur howl with laughter. It’s probably quite concerning, but eh… he’s enjoying it and that’s all that matters.
“You’re damn good, kid,” he says.
I look over at him in surprise. He never compliments my abilities with a gun. Instead, he’s spent the entire time we’ve known each other telling me how I could do it better or telling me he could do it better than me.
“You know, I was a sniper a long time ago. There was a man… he took a hostage. A young kid. Probably ten at the most. He held a knife to the kid’s throat, and all I had to do was make that shot.
It was his own son, too. Most of us didn’t think he’d do it.
Thought he was just bluffing as a last resort…
but he had that look in his eyes. Anyway, I had him right in my sights, I had everything ready… all I needed to do was take the shot.
“I hesitated, hoping someone else would do it, but when my commanding officer ordered me to, I took it… If I had your skills, I could have saved that kid.”
Arthur never opens up about this stuff, and I know more than anything he’d hate me pitying him, but still, I find myself wanting to reassure him. “Things were much different. The guns weren’t as good. The scopes weren’t as good.”
“I sure as fuck wasn’t this far away. I clipped the gunman’s ear. It wasn’t enough. But you, kid? You’re enough.”