Mechanical Soldier (Gray Tower #6)

Prologue

Nathan Slade searched for a vein in his arm that wasn’t completely blown out.

He was having a hell of a time. It didn’t help that his rig was so dull it was practically useless.

He had used that needle countless times and needed to get new ones at a pharmacy or a needle exchange, but he didn’t have the energy.

If his rig still worked okay, then he’d keep using it.

Some people were desperate enough to share, but he didn’t do that shit.

He may be a lowlife, but he wasn’t that stupid.

He finally found something he could work with and was about to send himself into oblivion when a man’s voice spoke up from beside him.

“You could do better.”

Nate tensed. Bliss was seconds away. He usually didn’t give a fuck, but he should probably see who the hell it was before he rendered himself incapacitated for a while.

He had been out on the streets for five years, running away from home after high school graduation.

There was a reason why he was alive when a lot of the crew he used to run with had died.

He looked up to see a man standing a few feet away. The guy was tall, built, and stood with confidence. He looked military with his close-cropped dark brown hair, well-muscled body, and rigid stance. Why the hell was this guy in an area of town where all the junkies hung out?

“Leave me alone,” Nate mumbled, but the man stepped closer.

“I’ve been watching you,” the man said.

Nate tensed and took the needle away from his arm. He was going to start getting dope sick soon if he didn’t get any, but with this guy hovering around, he needed to be at full capacity.

Well, whatever “full capacity” was anymore because Nate was not feeling or looking great.

He knew he looked like shit. His black hair was long and greasy from not being washed, and he had one hell of a beard.

His clothes were dirty and stank. Even his blue eyes, which were usually clear and sharp, were dull.

If he stood, his six-foot-one frame was lanky because he had lost so much weight.

That happened when you spent all your money on drugs instead of food.

“That’s creepy as fuck,” Nate replied. He looked the man up and down. “And I’m not sucking your cock for drug money either. I’m not that desperate.”

The man gave a deep, throaty laugh and said, “Well, that’s good to know. What I am going to offer does involve money. A lot of it. But instead of being some slimeball on the streets, how about you do something with your life and take down the evil of this world?”

Nate raised an eyebrow.

“You a recruiter for the U.S. Army or something?” he asked. “Because I don’t follow orders well.”

He also didn’t want to go down the same path as his older brother Logan, who had run off to the Army and abandoned him to their emotionally abusive parents when Nate was still a kid.

Nate’s mother and father had been barely tolerable when Logan was there, but as soon as his brother had left, they came down hard.

They criticised everything he did, from the way he dressed, his looks, his friends—anything and everything.

He didn’t have his brother to talk to anymore, and things snowballed.

His parents were awful people who kept at it, and Nate’s confidence dropped.

So did his grades. Eventually, it got bad enough that he ran away from home.

Now, Nate was sitting in the back alley of his plug’s house, trying to get high and forget about his shit life.

“No,” the man said and chuckled. “Far from that.”

“Then who the fuck are you?” Nate asked, starting to get annoyed.

“I work for a global organization that takes out bad guys around the world: terrorists, human traffickers, drug cartels, corrupt governments—anyone who hurts the greater good. I am extending a job offer for you to join as a soldier in this fight.”

Of all the things the guy could have said, Nate was not prepared for that. It took him a moment to process. Then, he laughed, long and loud.

“What is today?” Nate asked. “Fuck with the addict day? Get the fuck out of here.”

Instead of leaving or getting angry, the man chuckled.

“I like you,” he said. “You have spirit, even when you’re strung out.

I can’t imagine what you’re like, fully functional.

I promise you this offer is real. In fact…

” He began digging in his coat pocket and pulled out a wad of cash.

“…if you come with me, do a detox, and hear me out, I’ll pay you three grand.

That’s some decent re-up money. Plus, I’ll make sure you won’t feel like total shit during detox. Sound like a deal?”

Nate hesitated. That didn’t sound bad. He could desperately use the money, and not just for drugs.

He was homeless and without transportation, money, or possessions besides a small bag of clothes.

In fact, if you looked up the definition of “loser” in the dictionary, he was pretty sure there was a picture of him.

Would it be that bad if he tried something different?

Heaving out a sigh, Nate let out an exasperated, “Fine.”

“Don’t sound so excited,” the man chuckled.

Nate rolled his eyes and then realized something.

“I didn’t catch your name.”

“My name is Victor. I’ll be your direct report for the foreseeable future, Mr. Slade.”

Nate bristled.

“How the fuck do you know my name?”

“I make it a habit to learn about the people I’m recruiting,” Victor said with a shrug.

“You have a lot of potential. Your SAT scores were near perfect. You could have gone to any college you wanted, yet you barely graduated from high school. You were athletic and played varsity football and basketball but then dropped out of both. Then, you ran away from home after you finished school, never to be seen again. I’m sure there’s an interesting story. You can tell it to me in detox.”

Nate wondered how the fuck this guy had dug into his past that thoroughly but realized that this organization must have been more far-reaching than he had initially thought.

“So, I’m curious. What’s the name of this ‘organization’ that can dig up information on some no-name, homeless addict?”

Victor grinned and replied, “We’re called The Conglomerate. Welcome to the brotherhood.”

? ? ?

6 Years Ago

Nathan stared at the slick, black armor and frowned.

He was told he had been selected for a special team, but this was not what he had expected.

This armor was stuff out of science fiction, and although he had climbed the Conglomerate’s ranks from grunt to special ops, this was not what he had imagined as his end goal.

This armor was specialized and would be custom fit to its soldier.

It was essentially bulletproof due to a unique polymer formula that had been in development for years.

This armor would not only protect its soldier from enemy fire but also contained the latest high-tech combat gadgetry, including automatic night vision and movement and infrared detection.

It also had air filtration for gas attacks and a helmet that had a built-in comm system and heads-up tactical display.

The jet-black armor also looked sinister. The menacing helmet had eyes that glowed red just slightly, and the mask and suit covered the entire body, making whoever wore it look more like a machine than anything else.

These soldiers would be like machines in some sense—or monsters.

Nate had been told that he’d have a small IV inserted into himself.

It would have a concoction of drugs to keep him alert and focused during a mission.

The goal was to have a team that could come in fast and take down anything covertly.

Nate rubbed his hair and sighed. His hair was extremely short now. He had put on a lot of muscle since his junkie days. His face had also changed a bit since he had grown and matured. He wasn’t some punk kid anymore. He was a grown-ass man, a soldier.

“What do you think?” Victor came up beside Nate and stared at his protégé.

“I think your fucking nuts is what I think,” Nate grumbled.

“They want the best for this team,” Victor said.

“And you’ve become the best. I’m not trying to bullshit you.

I’m telling you how it is. These suits will be custom fit to you, so once a soldier is selected, that’s it.

They aren’t spending the money to change out men unless someone dies. It’s too expensive.”

Nate shook his head. This felt unreal. He had never set out to do any of this. He had taken a chance with this organization when he had realized how shitty his life had become. Now, he was an elite op soldier. What were the odds?

“From junkie to a mechanical soldier,” Nate said, laughing. “Never thought I’d be in this position, but I am concerned about this drug concoction you guys have for the suit. You know my history.”

“I do,” Victor confirmed. “And what we’d be giving you shouldn’t be an issue at all. In fact, your history might be a benefit.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You’d have a good drug tolerance.”

Victor let that hang in the air, and Nate wasn’t sure how he felt about that statement. He didn’t think his drug problem from years ago was a positive on his list of qualities.

“Whatever,” Nate said after a long period of silence.

A weird smile crept over Victor’s face. It creeped Nate out. The man could be intense.

“Come on,” Victor said. “We need to get you fitted for your suit. Then, you need to meet your team. The Commander wants to meet you. He’ll be running your team.”

“Does this Commander have a name?” Nate asked.

“You will refer to him as The Commander,” Victor replied.

“Once you join, your identity will become this team. You will do everything together. It will be hard work, but it will be rewarding. I can promise you that. And…” Victor turned to face Nate.

“…you will have a brotherhood like no other. You will have somewhere that you belong. Don’t squander this opportunity, Slade. Men would kill to be in your position.”

Gulping hard, Nate replied, “Yes, sir.”