by S. L. Jones
“It’s touch and go right now,” the doctor said in a solemn voice. “He’s extremely fit, so at least he has that going for him, but he lost a lot of blood. The team did an excellent job, but when he arrived at the hospital he was in oligemic shock.”
“Oligemic what?” Cathy Turner said.
“Pardon me,” the doctor said. “It’s shock from an extreme decrease in blood volume. From the gunshot wounds.”
She nodded, and he continued.
“There is great risk of organ failure and disseminated intravascular coagulation. Basically he’s at high risk for blood clots.”
“Do you know the extent of the damage?” she asked.
“Not at this time. I can tell you that his brain scan checked out, but we won’t know for sure what the real damage is until he wakes up.” He furrowed his brow and switched the clipboard to his other hand. “The men he was with had phoned the hospital ahead of his arrival, so the restoration of blood volume to maintain tissue perfusion and oxygenation was done as quickly as it could have been. They were ready and waiting for him when he came through the emergency room door. It seems your son has some friends in high places.”
The doctor smiled. He wasn’t only referring to the operative’s unlikely survival, he also meant the two doctors who were helicoptered in to operate.
“So we’re not out of the woods yet?”
“Oh heavens no, but I have to tell you, it’s not every day you have the best in the world looking after a single patient. Let’s just say the deck’s been stacked in his favor. We just need to hope he’s up to playing the hand.”
April Turner’s thoughts were conflicted as she listened to the doctor brief the women. She clutched the envelope in her hand, and tears welled up in her eyes. The envelope had “Trent” handwritten on the front, and the seal her husband had secured it with was still intact. Opening it to see what her husband Ryan had written to his twin brother had never even crossed her mind. His intention was to send it to Trent to initiate the healing process for their relationship, but mending the bridges would be impossible now.
The conversation she had with Jack Turner two hours ago had given her a lot to think about. She hadn’t known many of the details about her husband’s life, and now things had started to come together. She was proud of what her husband had been doing, but she wished with all of her heart there would have been a different outcome. Now that she knew the details, she wasn’t sure that passing the message in the envelope along to Trent was the right thing to do. The envelope wasn’t something she could leave in his room. She knew its contents would be too toxic for the family to happen upon right now, and the doctors still weren’t convinced that he would survive.
She had just lost the father of one of her children in this very hospital. Ryan Turner had been the love of her life, and mentally she wasn’t sure if she’d ever recover. Based on her conversation with Jack, she wasn’t sure it would ever be safe to let the father of her oldest child know the truth.
Tears streamed down her face as she was overcome with guilt. April contemplated whether it might be better if Trent Turner didn’t make it through, and quickly tried to erase the selfish thought from her mind. She was ashamed. The secret she held, the very reason her relationship with Ryan survived, was something that would become exponentially more difficult to explain to her astute young child as time passed by.
She wiped the tears from her face, turned and walked away. She had two children at home who missed their father dearly, and that’s where she needed to be right now. This was something that would have to wait. She just wasn’t sure if the wait would take a lifetime.
A Note to Readers
Thank you for reading my debut novel THE CODE WITHIN. If you've enjoyed the book, be sure to leave a brief review on Amazon or Goodreads, and then share the book with your friends through the social media outlets that you frequent. I believe that word of mouth from readers is the most powerful endorsement an author can have.
You can contact S L Jones using the following:
Email: [email protected]
Website: http://sljones.co
You can sign up for my mailing list to be notified of new releases and contests.
S L Jones
PO Box 7626
Silver Spring, MD 20907
Acknowledgements
I'd like to send out a heartfelt thank you to family and friends who have encouraged me to follow through with my writing. For those of you who provided insight into three letter agencies, the military and the police, your perspectives and insight have made this novel better than I could have ever imagined, and I appreciate your willingness to help - rest assured the next round is on me. To my copyeditor Marcus Trower: thanks for taking the time and having enough patience to guide me through the early stages of learning to write fiction. I've still got a long way to go, but you're valuable advice has helped me to write a novel that I can be proud of. To Carol and Craig Jones, Ed Quackenbush, Karen Caroscio, Malina Fowler, Nick Selby, Peyton Jones and Teresa Hargett: thanks for helping me to beat down doubt and get back to the task at hand - writing. To Hristo Kovatliev: Awesome work on the cover, you have given the novel a face that will surely get noticed.To my son, Tyler, who will soon turn four: you are a bolt of positive energy and hope that lights up my world with love and gratitude – you’re the perfect little soundtrack to my life and you keep me going. Last and far from least, to my wife, Carey: yes, I am crazy, and thank you for putting up with me and for your love and patience - I love you.
The Seeds of Inspiration
This book would have never been written if it wasn't for a ridiculously long layover at Heathrow airport in London, England around 2004. I was so incredibly bored that I picked up a book called The Increment written by Chris Ryan. Sadly enough, that was the first time I had read fiction for pleasure as an adult. After I finished that novel, I kept reading and reading and reading – perhaps I’ve been trying to make up for lost time. I would like to thank Chris for waking the reading beast inside me, and I hope to thank him in person one day.
At some point, I’d say around 2008 or so, I had figured out enough books before I had finished them to where I decided it might be fun to take a shot at writing one myself. I was a decent musician at one point in my life, after all, and I simply looked at writing as another creative outlet, so it was easy to carry over my confidence from writing music. Initially, I only gave writing a half-hearted effort. I had a sliver of an idea that continued to grow in my head, but only a few poorly written chapters (that had I thought were great at the time) to show for it. Then I told my sister what I had been up to and she introduced me to Vince Flynn and his Mitch Rapp series of books, and for that I owe her big time. Vince's writing struck a chord with me. I devoured his novels at what most (aside from my wife) would consider an unhealthy pace. If Chris Ryan was the spark for my interest in reading, Vince Flynn represented the fuel thrown on the fire to take writing seriously. Unfortunately, Vince Flynn passed away last year, so I'll never have the opportunity to thank him in person for his inspiration. I’d like to think he would have enjoyed my first effort.
Aside from Vince Flynn and Chris Ryan, my influences include the great Robert Ludlum, a few local guys who go by the names Tom Clancy, David Baldacci and Daniel Silva, as well as Dan Brown as the inspiration for my pacing and James Patterson for teaching me to keep my prose simple enough to stay out of the way of the story.
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
<
br /> Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Chapter 105
Chapter 106
Chapter 107
Chapter 108
Chapter 109
Chapter 110
Chapter 111
Chapter 112
Chapter 113
Chapter 114
Chapter 115
Chapter 116
Chapter 117
Chapter 118
Chapter 119
Chapter 120
Chapter 121
Chapter 122
Chapter 123
Chapter 124
Chapter 125
Chapter 126
Chapter 127
Chapter 128
Chapter 129
Chapter 130
Chapter 131
Chapter 132
Chapter 133
Chapter 134
Chapter 135
Chapter 136
Chapter 137
Chapter 138
Chapter 139
Chapter 140
Chapter 141
Chapter 142
Chapter 143
Chapter 144
Chapter 145
Chapter 146
Chapter 147
Chapter 148
Chapter 149
Chapter 150
Chapter 151
Chapter 152
Chapter 153
Chapter 154
Chapter 155
Chapter 156
Chapter 157
Chapter 158
Chapter 159
Chapter 160
Chapter 161
Chapter 162
Chapter 163
Chapter 164
Chapter 165
Epilogue
A Note to Readers
Acknowledgements