D.E.A.D. Till I Die: An Action Thriller (GlobaTech Book 1)

by Sumner, James P.

  “I’m going to make life very difficult for GlobaTech Industries, Tom. Nothing can stand in the way of what’s coming next. Not now.”

  The phone clicked off, leaving Director Matthews standing behind his desk, sweating and feeling genuinely nervous for the first time in his life.

  He took a few moments to compose himself, and then stormed out of his office; his face a picture of anger. He made his way down the hall and left, bursting through the door to Julius Jones’ office without knocking.

  Jones was sitting behind his desk, watching his own TV. He looked up as Matthews entered. “Was wondering when I’d see you, Tom.”

  Matthews’ fury boiled over. “I’m the goddamn director of the CIA, and you will stand when I walk in the room!” he bellowed.

  Jones raised an eyebrow, before slowly getting to his feet.

  Matthews continued with his tirade, pointing to the TV. “That is a fucking nightmare—for the president, for me, and for this agency! Your D.E.A.D. unit caused that shit-storm, Julius, and it’s unacceptable!”

  Jones took a deep breath, raising his hands and gesturing for the director to calm down.

  “Tom... Sir—you need to take a moment to relax.” He knew the president would have been on the phone to him, and he could guess how that conversation would’ve gone.

  “Don’t tell me to fucking relax, you arrogant bastard! All this is your fault!”

  Jones frowned, taking exception. “Hey, wait a goddamn minute, Tom. I get that Black and his team screwed up, but the fact they were there was your call. Which you made with the president’s backing. I’m not saying this isn’t a shit-storm—I agree with you on that—but barging in here and pointing the finger at me, simply because the president likely just tore you a new one and you need to feel better about yourself, isn’t going to make things better!”

  Matthews was livid, and he stood taking in deep, adrenaline-fueled breaths, staring Jones right in the eye. After a few moments, he calmed down enough to see sense.

  “Fuck,” he hissed, turning to pace around the office and clear his head.

  “We just need to think of a way to spin this so that it tarnishes GlobaTech’s reputation,” offered Jones.

  Matthews waved his hand dismissively. “That ship’s sailed, Jones. It’s already on the news that Jericho Stone and his new friends were innocent bystanders, simply doing their job... blah, blah, fucking blah.”

  Jones sighed. He had an idea what the next step was, and he wasn’t happy about it. “So what do you want to do?”

  Matthews stopped and looked at him. “The D.E.A.D. unit is gone, effective right fucking now. Do you understand me? Any records are destroyed. Your funding is cut and re-distributed. Your entire program is dead and buried. Chris Black, and whoever else is left, are no longer, in any way, linked to this agency. We cannot afford to let our reputation take a hit like this, not now. Not with Adrian Hell still on the loose with his stolen intel. Are you listening to me, Julius?”

  Jones was staring blankly at the surface of his desk, hearing every word, but unable to express how he felt about them. The D.E.A.D. program had been his brainchild, his baby, for over twenty years. It began with Adrian Hell. Ironically, it’s with him, albeit indirectly, that it ends.

  He nodded, sitting down heavily in his chair.

  Matthews regarded him quietly for a moment. “Get it done, Julius.”

  He turned and left, slamming the door closed behind him.

  Jones sat for a while, silently. He was angry at the decision, but he was angrier that his trust in Chris Black to manage the unit in place of Jericho had apparently been misplaced.

  He snapped out of his trance and picked up the phone. He had preparations to make.

  SANTA CLARITA, CALIFORNIA, USA

  April 22nd, 2017

  18:42 PDT

  After a couple of tense hours in the U.S. Embassy, Jericho, Julie, and Collins were allowed to return to the private airfield they landed in. With Vincent in tow, they flew back to California. The flight back passed without incident, and they touched down on GlobaTech’s airstrip, where they were met on the runway by a transport vehicle. They were driven to the main office building, and they made their way to the fourth floor conference room, where Josh and Schultz were waiting for them.

  Daniel Vincent stood awkwardly by the door as everyone else took their seats, hugging his briefcase to his chest. Josh stood and walked over to him.

  “Glad you’re able to join us, Daniel,” he said, formally, before nodding to the case. “Mind if I take a look at that?”

  Vincent reluctantly handed it over, and Josh slid it across the table to Schultz, who was sitting at the far end. He nodded, and Josh placed an arm around Vincent’s shoulder, walking him to the door.

  “Daniel, do me a favor? Head on down to the front desk and speak to one of the girls there. They’re expecting you, and they’ll arrange for one of our medical teams to give you a once over, okay?”

  He nodded vacantly and turned to walk out of the room. He paused at the door and looked back over his shoulder. “Th-thank you,” he said. “To all of you, for everything you did for me.”

  Julie smiled at him. “It’s no problem. You were pretty bad ass yourself, you know that?”

  He smiled weakly and headed out of the room.

  Josh shut the door behind him, and then turned to face the three returning members of his new team. He looked at each one of them in turn.

  “So, anybody care to tell me how that whole thing got turned into a worldwide clusterfuck?” he shouted.

  Collins went to speak, but Josh cut him off. “That was rhetorical! I’ll tell you how... You acted like a bunch of amateurs!” He pointed to Collins. “Ray, what part of discreet don’t you understand?”

  Collins frowned. “What? I thought I was very discreet,” he said, defensively. “I made the approach perfectly fine. It wasn’t my fuckin’ fault Jerry’s old unit decided to show up.”

  “No, it wasn’t—but it was your decision to blow a hole in the side of the fucking hotel!”

  “Ah... yeah... I just wanted to see what’d happen if I’m honest. Sure as hell stopped that guy shootin’ at me anyway! Heh!”

  He looked around, but both Jericho and Julie shook their heads at him, signaling for him to stay quiet. He fell silent and stared at the surface of the table, feeling like a kid waiting outside the principal’s office.

  Josh stood at the opposite end to Schultz, using both hands to rub his eyes and forehead with frustration. “Guys, come on... you’re meant to be professionals. You’re civilians now, and you’re working for GlobaTech, which means you represent this company in everything that you do. You know what we’re up against at the moment—the last thing we need is any bad PR.”

  “Josh, with respect, we did the best we could,” said Julie. “We did everything right, and yeah, once Jericho’s old unit showed up, things went to shit, but we did our best to save the innocent bystanders in the hotel, protect Vincent and his information, and get out of there alive.”

  “They blew up our vehicle,” added Jericho. “LaSharde had us pinned down with a sniper rifle, Baker was in the crowds—I’m guessing he was the one who planted the bomb in the first place... and Black...” He fell silent for a moment, trying to suppress the natural anger he felt when that man’s name was mentioned. “Chris fucking Black ran out, guns blazing, with no regard for any collateral damage. Say what you want, but they weren’t there to capture Vincent—they were there to kill him.”

  Josh and Schultz exchanged a glance in the silence that descended.

  “Okay, what’s done is done,” said Josh, finally. “We have a PR department with millions of dollars at their disposal for a reason, I guess. Ryan, what’s in the case?”

  Schultz clicked the briefcase open and took out a handful of documents and a flash drive, resting them on the table before putting the case on the floor next to him. He quickly scanned the papers as everyone looked on.

  “So
nofabitch...” he murmured eventually.

  “What is it?” asked Jericho.

  “Whatever it is, it best be worth the shit we went through to get it,” added Collins.

  Schultz slid the papers across the table, for anyone who cared to read them. “Documents detailing the hidden extras that were added to the Cerberus satellite post-production,” he said. “Signed by Cunningham himself.”

  “Holy shit,” said Josh, picking them up. “This alone is enough to at least get a Senate hearing. This proves the president knew what the satellite was really capable of. And if he knew, it’s hardly a stretch to link him to the attacks that utilized those capabilities.” He looked at everyone in turn. “Guys, this is amazing.”

  Schultz slid him the flash drive across the table. “See what’s on that, too.”

  “Will do,” he said, picking it up. “I think I’ve got a call to make.” He turned and left the room hurriedly.

  Jericho looked at Schultz. “Where’s he going?”

  “I imagine he’ll be getting Adrian on the line, to tell him the good news.”

  “So, what now?”

  “Now? We move forward. The three of you were a goddamn disgrace out there. You need leadership and structure if you’re going to function as a team.”

  Collins raised his hand. “I’ll do it,” he said, smiling.

  “Like hell you will,” scoffed Schultz. “There’s only one obvious choice.” He turned and looked directly at Julie. “You’re in charge from now on,” he said. “You keep these two idiots in check, and you report directly to Josh. Questions?”

  Collins looked outraged, but wasn’t being serious. Jericho simply smiled and looked at her.

  “You’ll do great,” he said to her.

  “Thanks,” she replied with a smile.

  “So, technically, I’m under you now,” said Collins, smiling a devilish smile. “Perfect!”

  Julie sighed and rolled her eyes. “You’re an asshole.”

  “Correct! And now, I’m your asshole... Ma’am!”

  She looked at Jericho for support. He shrugged. “He’s your problem... Ma’am.”

  “Oh, don’t you start...”

  They all stood and headed for the door, but Schultz spoke and they stopped, turning to look at him.

  “Rest up. It’s been a long few days, for all of us.”

  They nodded and left the room. Julie walked behind the men, all the way to the elevator. They got in, and as the doors dinged shut, she said, “So, who wants a drink?”

  Collins laughed. “I’m gonna enjoy workin’ for ya, Jules.”

  Jericho smiled. “I’ll give it a miss, if you don’t mind. I could use some rest.”

  Julie nodded and shrugged. “That’s fine... maybe when you wake up, you’ll have grown your balls back?”

  Collins laughed again, and Jericho shook his head. “Mature.”

  Julie shrugged again. “Don’t make me give you a direct order, soldier.”

  “I didn’t think it worked like that in the private sector? I figured we’d have annual performance reviews and a designated lunch hour, et cetera.”

  The doors dinged open again, and Collins stepped out, followed by Julie.

  She turned and looked at Jericho, smiling. “We’re celebrating, so quit being a pussy.”

  Jericho followed them out, accepting defeat. Collins moved next to him, putting his arm around his colleague’s much taller frame as best he could, gesturing to Julie as she walked on ahead. “Jerry, she’s a woman, and she’s in charge... no use fighting it—just learn to live with the fact that things are always gonna be done her way.”

  “And you’re the expert on women, are you?”

  “I try not to argue with public opinion,” he replied, modestly.

  They left the building and headed down the steps. Julie was waiting in the back of a transport vehicle. She leaned forward, patting the driver on the shoulder.

  “This kind man has agreed to give us a ride to the bar,” she said. “Get in.”

  The two of them climbed aboard, and they headed out of the compound and down the road.

  19:35 PDT

  Julie walked back over to their table, holding three bottles of ice-cold beer in her hands. The condensation on the glass dripped over her fingers as she put them down and slid one to Collins, then another to Jericho.

  They were huddled around a small, round table. The bar was crowded, and the music was loud. She raised her bottle, holding it between them.

  “Good to be home, boys,” she said.

  Jericho and Collins did the same, clinking their bottlenecks and taking a swig.

  “I’m with ya on that one, love,” replied Collins. “Bottom line, we got our arses kicked over there. We were lucky.”

  Jericho shrugged. “I don’t know about lucky. We did the job and got back in one piece. My old D.E.A.D. unit had us in a tight spot, sure, but it was being in this unit, this team, that got us out of Prague in one piece. Any other outfit—military, government, whatever—and we wouldn’t have made it out of there alive. That’s a fact. It was being in the private sector that gave us the option of simply handing ourselves over to the authorities and arguing our case with the U.S. Embassy. It was a refreshing change not having to worry too much about liability. Like Schultz said, I think the only thing we were missing was leadership, and now we have it.” He nodded to Julie, raising his bottle to her. “Congratulations on your promotion.”

  She smiled. “Thanks. Sure you don’t mind taking orders off a girl?”

  Jericho laughed. “It doesn’t bother me. I’ve spent many years being in charge... it’s nice to get a break. Besides, you might be a... girl, but out there, where it counts, you’re twice the soldier of any man I’ve served with.”

  Julie blushed a little, but said nothing. She took another sip of her beer and stared at the table.

  “Well, there’s one more important matter that needs resolvin’,” said Collins. “Now we’re all official, this special little group of ours needs a name.”

  “I thought we were supposed to be keeping it discreet?” countered Julie. “Do we really need a name?”

  Collins was taking a sip of his drink, and feigned choking on his mouthful of beer at her response. “Of course we do, sweetheart! People need to know that when we’re on the case, they better watch out. We need a name that will...I dunno, inspire confidence in our clients and... y’know, instill fear in our enemies, et cetera.”

  She shook her head and smiled. “You call us whatever you want, I’m easy.”

  It was Collins’ turn to smile. “Are ya now? In that case, can I buy ya another drink?”

  He laughed, and Jericho hung his head, feeling slightly ashamed of his gender.

  Julie took another pull on her beer. “I tell you what, you beat me in an arm wrestle, you not only get to name our team, but you get to walk home unaided tonight after that last remark.”

  Jericho laughed and smiled at her. Collins laughed too, although he felt a little nervous. “And if you win?”

  She shrugged. “I get to name the team, and I get one free shot at you.”

  Jericho put his hand on Collins’ shoulder. “I wouldn’t do it if I were you, Ray.”

  “Are ya kiddin’ me, Jerry? Has covering that eye up halved your intelligence as well as ya sight?” He looked at Julie, clearing the bottles out of the way and resting his elbow on the table. “Bring it on, Boss.”

  Julie winked at Jericho, and he took her bottle off her as she leaned on the table, grasping Collins’ right hand in her own. “Are you ready?” she asked.

  “Always,” he replied.

  She turned to Jericho. “Would you mind?”

  He nodded, placing one giant hand on top of theirs. “On three...”

  Julie and Collins stared at each other, half smiling, half serious.

  Jericho lifted his hand. “Three!”

  Both their arms and muscles tensed simultaneously as they pulled to their respective lefts. The
y remained central for a moment, but then Collins slowly began to gain the upper hand.

  Jericho flicked his gaze to Julie, who seemed to be really struggling.

  She breathed deep, holding on with her arm pushed back at a forty-five degree angle.

  Collins laughed. “Come on, just give it up. It’s okay—I’ll still respect ya!”

  Julie raised an eyebrow and smiled, then moved her left hand slowly to her chest. She moved it down, massaging between her breasts. “Man, I’m working up a... real sweat here...” she said, putting an ache into her voice.

  Collins’ eyes went wide, and he couldn’t stop his gaze moving to her body.

  “Fuck me...” he whispered.

  Jericho put his head in his hand as he heard Julie mutter, “Got you.”

  With a massive exertion of strength, she slammed his hand all the way to her left. The sound of his knuckles banging on the table was loud, even in the busy bar, and people standing nearby turned to stare.

  Collins was silent, as Julie simply looked at him, smiling.

  Jericho handed him his beer. “I can’t believe you fell for that,” he said.

  “Ah, bollocks,” he said to himself, taking the beer and downing it.

  Julie looked at Jericho. “You wanna go, big guy?”

  He held his hands up and smiled. “Nah, I’m good, thanks.”

  They held each other’s gaze for a moment, before Julie turned back to Collins. “You okay there, champ?”

  He chuckled, tipping the neck of his bottle to her, which she graciously clinked with her own. “My pride hurts more than my hand does, but I’ll give ya that one, sweetheart.”

  Julie nodded. “Okay, here’s how it’s going to work. I’ll let you off the free shot if you don’t ever call me sweetheart again.”

  Collins laughed. “You got it, hot stuff.”

  She shook her head and looked at Jericho. “And for the name, I was thinking... your old D.E.A.D. unit ain’t really all that, y’know? I don’t think they deserve such a cool acronym. Us three right here, we’ve got the top brass’ faith and blessing, and I for one don’t intend letting them down. It’s gonna be a rough few months—I think we all know that... so I ask of both of you that we Don’t... Ever... Accept... Defeat. Deal?”