Perilous Games (Gray Tower Book 3)

by J. M. Brister

  Mercer stared at the gun, waves of anxiety crossing over him. It would be so easy, and then he would atone for failing his men. It wasn’t like there was much for him to live for anyhow. He had been honorably discharged from the Marines and had received a Purple Heart for his injuries. He had been told that he was a hero—an inspiration. There was a lot he could give the world still, or so he had been told.

  Whoopie fucking do.

  Mercer ignored all the praise and instead concentrated on the fact that his employment options were practically non-existent. At this point, manual labor was out, and he didn’t have the education to get a white-collar job somewhere. He had enlisted in the Marines right out of high school. Meaningful, gainful employment seemed like a pipe dream.

  He glanced at the gun again.

  Then, he reached for it, picking it up with unsteady hands. Maybe today was the day after all?

  He checked to see if it was loaded. Hands shaking, he turned the gun to his head. His finger was on the trigger. He was ready to leave this life. Perhaps he could apologize to his men in the afterlife?

  Mercer was ready to pull the trigger when a sound came from his front door.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  He turned to the doorway, perplexed. No one bothered him anymore, and he liked it that way. Isolation was his friend.

  Mercer wanted to ignore the door, but the knocks persisted. With a shaky hand, he set the gun back down on the end table and haphazardly rose from his seat. He could barely put any weight on his bad knee, so he hobbled to the door as best as he could.

  When he got to the door, he peered through the peephole to reveal a tall, brown-haired man with brilliant blue eyes waiting patiently on Mercer’s front porch. He was wearing a leather jacket with a white t-shirt underneath. Mercer had no clue who he was and didn’t feel like dealing with the man.

  He was about to turn around and hobble back to the couch when the knocking continued.

  “Mr. Cade, may I speak to you?” The man yelled from behind the door. “I have a job offer for you. Trust me. This is important.”

  Mercer froze, unsure of what to do. The man had a job offer? Was he serious? What would it hurt if he heard the guy out?

  He slowly unlocked the heavy wooden door and opened it. The man stood there patiently, an emotionless expression on his face. Mercer stared at him, trying to size him up.

  “Who the fuck are you?” He finally asked.

  The man gave him a sly grin and said, “The name’s Jack Hunter. I’m here to offer you a job.”

  “You’ve got some balls. I’ll give you that. Why the hell do you want to offer me anything? I’m pretty much out of commission for the foreseeable future.”

  Mercer pointed down to his knee which had swollen to the size of a grapefruit. It felt even worse than it looked.

  “Mr. Cade, you’d be surprised. May I come in?”

  Grunting, Mercer reluctantly hobbled out of the way to let the man in. He shouldn’t have given Jack Hunter the time of day. Yet, here he was, allowing the man to come in his house. He must be out of his mind.

  Jack Hunter strolled into his home, glancing around at the unkempt area. Mercer hadn’t bothered cleaning in weeks. Hell, all he had been doing was trying not to blow his brains out. And he had almost done it just a few moments ago.

  Maybe it was fate that Mercer should talk to this man? Not that he believed in any of that shit. But still, it was eerie.

  Hunter immediately made himself at home, plopping down on the couch and crossing his leg casually. The man was something else.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” Mercer grumbled and stumbled over to a chair.

  As soon as he was seated, he watched Hunter glance over at the gun, which was still sitting on the end table. Mercer could have kicked himself for not securing it, but he was completely out of it.

  “How…have you been doing?” Hunter asked.

  Mercer huffed and said, “Look, I don’t know you. I don’t even know why you’re here, so excuse me if it’s none of your damned business.”

  “I used to be in your situation,” Hunter continued as if he hadn’t heard Mercer. “After I was discharged from the Army, I turned to alcohol. It almost killed me, but I got a job offer that changed my life.

  “Gray Tower is a private military group that does missions no one else wants to. We do government missions, help law enforcement, and provide private security—among other things. I’d like to offer you a job there.”

  Mercer sat there, stunned. Was this guy serious? What would a private military company want with a busted-up soldier?

  “That sounds wonderful. But as you can see, I’m out of commission,” he said bitterly.

  Hunter shrugged nonchalantly.

  “You’ll get better.”

  Mercer let out a short laugh and said, “And what if I don’t?”

  Hunter shrugged again and said, “Then we keep you on the operations and planning side of the business. Regardless of your physical capabilities, Gray Tower wants you.”

  All Mercer could do was stare at the man. He couldn’t possibly be serious, could he?

  “Who even gave you my name?” Mercer asked in disbelief.

  “We have contacts in all branches of the military who send us names of discharged soldiers who have exemplary records but who need some guidance and purpose.”

  Mercer snorted.

  “And I fit the bill? This isn’t some charity case, is it? I don’t need to be pitied.”

  Jack laughed and said, “You know, when I was first recruited, I said the same thing. No, this isn’t a charity case. Gray Tower is interested in you because you have a stellar combat record, and your superiors had nothing but glowing things to say about you. We actively search out veterans with backgrounds like yours.”

  “And what if I never recover?”

  “Then as I said previously, we’ll still take you. But we can also get you to the best surgeons and physical therapists in the country. I have a feeling that you’ll be back to your old fighting self.”

  “Really? Because the ones I’ve seen say otherwise.”

  “Like I said, the best.”

  Mercer scoffed, still in disbelief.

  “Look,” Hunter continued. “I was in the same boat as you a year ago. Gray Tower turned my life around. They gave me purpose again. I owe my life to them, and I’d like to extend the same opportunity to you.”

  “Let’s say that I do accept,” Mercer said cautiously. “What’s the work environment like? What’s the pay? The benefits? Working for this company sounds like just as tough a job as being back in the Marines. I’m not jumping into something that’s going to beat me up even more for little return, especially since I wouldn’t be working for the benefit of the United States.”

  Hunter grinned.

  “I like where this conversation is going.” He shifted in his seat, getting more comfortable. “You won’t find a better salary and benefits than Gray Tower. They pay for housing too. It’s a private military company, and the missions can be dangerous. However, they aren’t long and tedious. We get in and get out.

  “And as for benefiting Uncle Sam, we take jobs that the government can’t because of a legal gray area. You’re still helping your country, just in a different capacity.”

  Mercer nodded, suddenly feeling hopeful. He was being offered a dream job—everything that he could have ever wanted. But there was still a lot of doubt. This Hunter guy claimed that they would still keep him if he recovered, but what if that wasn’t the case? He wasn’t sure if he could deal with more disappointment in his life.

  “Look,” Hunter continued. “I know this is a lot to throw at you, so I’m going to leave my card in hopes you will think about it and call me. Just do me a huge favor and don’t do anything drastic right now, okay?”

  Hunter glanced back at the gun and then back to Mercer. The air suddenly seemed thick, and Mercer winced, remembering back to what he had almost done just a few moments ago.
r />   “Yeah, I can do that,” Mercer said slowly.

  “Good,” Hunter replied. “I’ll leave you be then. Just keep in mind what I said.”

  With that, Jack Hunter got up and showed himself out. Mercer didn’t have the energy to do it anyhow. Instead, he became overwhelmed with thoughts of a new life—one that he thought he never would have had before.

  Suddenly, he felt like there could be a future. He could be a productive member of society. And maybe, just maybe this Jack Hunter could get him to the right doctors to try and fix him physically. He still wasn’t sure if he could ever be fixed emotionally.

  Chapter 20

  Present

  Ashlen woke up slowly from the darkness. It was sleep that had been without dreams—just plain oblivion. When she was conscious enough to open her eyes, the room around her was a blur. She blinked away the haziness. The room was dank and depressing. It was a small room with gray cinderblocks for walls and one light bulb hanging from a wire. She was apparently in a bed, though it was only a mattress. There was a dirty looking toilet and sink on the other side of the small room. There was a large metal door across from the bed, which was closed. The place was filthy and made Ashlen hunch down closer toward the mattress. She tried to clear her mind and think where she possibly could be.

  It was only after she had viewed her surroundings that she remembered what had happened.

  Oh my God, she realized. I was kidnapped.

  A few moments later, she remembered what happened when she had come out of the room to talk with the agent. Smoke had filled the room. There had been darkness and suffocation. Then, there had been arms that had grabbed her. There had been a stinging prick on her neck as she had been carried away. She couldn’t remember anything after that, except waking up in this room.

  The realization came to her and made her body shudder with crippling fear. Her worst nightmare had come true: she had been kidnapped. Marino must have gotten to her after all.

  Her body began shaking out of control. Tears involuntarily fell from her face. She tried to sit up, but she cried out in pain. Her neck was so stiff that she couldn’t sit up. There were scratches on her arms, though she had no idea how they had gotten there. Her clothes were tattered and ripped. Her head hurt so bad that she was dizzy. She lay back down on the mattress and crumpled herself into a little ball.

  Despite how poorly she felt, all she could think about was Mercer. He had always made her feel so safe. Ever since the FBI had gotten involved, she had felt nervous. She didn’t even care that she knew he’d never love her, that their relationship was a purely physical one. She only knew that he had protected her once before, and she prayed silently that he would come and get her from this place.

  Ashlen had no idea how long she lay on the dirty mattress crying, but there came a point where the metal door flew open. She snapped open her eyes and craned her stiff neck to the figure in the doorway.

  A man who she had never seen before stood in the middle of the doorway. He was a large man with a lot of muscle, though there was a lot of fat surrounding that muscle. The man was bald and wore a gun tucked into his pants. He was holding a cellphone to his head and was talking on it as he stepped into the room. Ashlen immediately knew that he was not friendly.

  The man paused from his conversation and sneered at her. She shuddered at the look. It was a look of hunger.

  “Yeah,” the man said into the phone as he continued the conversation. “The bitch has finally woken up. What do you want me to do with her?”

  There was a pause in the conversation. Ashlen couldn’t breathe. She was too scared.

  “Okay, but does that also mean I can’t have any fun with her?” There was another pause. “Fine,” the man said and hit the screen on the cellphone to end the call.

  Ashlen’s heart was beating so hard that it felt like it was going to come straight out of her chest. The man strolled over to the bed and leaned over her until she could smell his foul breath. She closed her eyes and shuddered violently.

  “The boss says I can’t fuck you yet,” he said in a low voice. It had a slight southern accent to it. “Gotta wait until that fucking shipment arrives. But don’t you worry. You’re gonna know how nice my dick feels buried inside of you soon enough.”

  He reached down over her and grabbed her breasts. She was so terrified that she didn’t even move, didn’t even acknowledge that this was happening to her. He gave each breast a painfully hard squeeze. Ashlen cried out in pain.

  And then suddenly, the man turned and backed away from her. Before she knew it, he was out of the room, the door closing behind him. She heard a loud locking mechanism on the door, and then she was alone.

  She began crying more violently than before, her sobs echoing in the mostly empty room. How could this be happening to her? That man was planning on raping her. She didn’t know if she could survive such a thing.

  Mercer, please come for me soon, she pleaded in her mind. Please come and help me.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Paul paced the conference room of the FBI headquarters in Charlotte. He was tense and extremely angry. He had just gotten off the phone first with Allen West and then with Rodriguez who was recovering in the hospital. West had okayed the operation along with the blessing of the Agent in Charge of the Charlotte field office. Paul was not exactly pleased when he heard Gray Tower would be heading up the operation.

  Sitting around the table was Mercer Cade, that Jack Hunter guy, another Gray Tower guy named Ryan Hale, and the owner and CEO of the mercenary group himself, Miles Bryant. Paul had to admit that this Bryant guy commanded attention. He was wearing an expensive-looking dark charcoal gray suit and had the attitude that he could get shit done. That still didn’t mean that Paul had to like the fact that he was being forced to work with a mercenary group. He had no idea what strings this Bryant guy had to pull to take over an FBI investigation, but the guy was well-connected.

  “Are we ready to go?” Jack Hunter asked, sounding mildly annoyed. He looked around the room to see everyone nodding in agreement. “Okay, then we’ll get started.”

  Paul sat heavily down in an empty chair. Bryant looked around the table and nodded.

  “Needless to say, I’ve been less than pleased with the way the FBI has handled this case,” Bryant began. “The kidnapping of Ms. Cole was a coordinated attack that could have killed one of my agents. Since only Mr. Hunter, Mr. Cade, and I knew of Ms. Cole’s whereabouts, I am assuming that it was someone in the FBI who tipped off Marino.”

  Paul folded his arms and shook his head.

  “We don’t know that for sure,” he said.

  “Yeah, we do,” Hunter said, glaring at him. “I’m just hoping that the person isn’t you.”

  This pissed off Paul even more. How dare this man suggest that he was behind all of this!

  “Hell no. I care about her more than any of you realize.”

  Cade scoffed and said, “Please, enlighten us, Agent Anderson. Tell me why you went out of your fucking way to hunt us down after you had a stand down from your superior. We wouldn’t be in this situation if you had minded your own damned business.”

  Paul tensed. He hadn’t wanted this to come out to Gray Tower. He already was in deep shit with his boss. What would happen if this mercenary group knew his past with Ashlen?

  “I can answer that,” Bryant said. “I talked with Agent in Charge Allen West, and he told me about your past relationship with Ms. Cole.”

  “What?” Mercer said, coming out of his chair a bit.

  “Something about her being Agent Anderson’s ex-fiancée,” Bryant said pointedly, staring over at Paul.

  “You son of a bitch,” Cade growled. “What was all of this then? A chance to win her back? You fucked up big time. You’re lucky my boss is here right now.”

  He turned toward Hunter and sneered viciously.

  Hunter whistled and shook his head saying to Cade, “If my boss wasn’t here right now, I’d let you kick his ass.”
/>   Paul shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He watched as Bryant smiled slightly.

  “Let’s get back on track,” Bryant said, his tone and demeanor now sounding serious. “I was able to contact Peter Cole, and he’s agreed to talk to us on the condition that the FBI stays off his back when this is over.”

  Paul snorted and shook his head.

  “Absolutely not. Cole is a menace to society. He needs to be prosecuted for his crimes.”

  “Not your call anymore,” Bryant replied. “This comes from the very top. We need his cooperation as we can try and negotiate a trade-off between Ms. Cole and the shipment.”

  “What exactly is on this shipment?” Paul asked, trying to wrap his head around what was going on.

  “It’s an arms deal, unfortunately,” Bryant said uneasily.

  “And you’re really going to allow this guy to walk after this?” Paul asked incredulously.

  “He is going to allow us to tamper with the shipment,” Hunter replied. “And has also promised to disappear after this—after handing over all of his contacts to us.”

  “This is insane,” Paul grumbled but held off any more comments.

  “In our line of work, we have to give a little to get a little,” Bryant said. “I’m sure you’ve done similar things, though maybe not to this degree.”

  Paul grunted, deciding to bite his tongue.

  “If everyone is ready, I’m going to put Mr. Cole through on a conference call,” Bryant said, nodding around the room.

  After a few tense moments, the call was put through and a ringing sound echoed through the small conference room. Paul tensed when a voice came through on the other end of the line.

  “It’s Cole,” came a man’s voice, deeper and lower than Paul had been expecting. He had never met Ashlen’s elusive uncle when they were engaged.

  “Peter, I have my team and an FBI liaison on the phone,” Bryant said. “May we proceed?”

  “We may.”

  “My team and I would like to set up a place where we can meet you with the shipment, tamper with the cargo, and then work out a plan for swapping the cargo for Miss Cole.”