“Okay. Six months.” The commitment cost him. He’d be walking through his personal hell, but nobody needed, or for that matter, wanted, to know about those issues.
“A full six months starting the day you walk back through those doors.”
“Yeah, and in six months and one day I’ll be back in Mississippi.”
“Guarantee you won’t, but I’ll let you come to that decision by yourself.” Gabriel’s smugness irked him more than just a little bit, but damn it, Jason couldn’t hold it against him.
“I suppose I should thank you.”
“Have I ever been wrong?” Yep, smug to the tenth power.
“Yes, you put me in charge of Bravo Team.”
“Hell yes, I did, and I thank God I had the sense to do it, too. You saved them from dying in that transport and you brought home the majority of our men. If you hadn’t convinced those fuckers we’d pay big money for each member of the team, you’d be another IS YouTube video and a dead body statistic. There was absolutely nothing you could have done to prevent what happened to Collins and Santos.” Damn it. Gabriel was getting loud. Jason glanced back to make sure the door to the cabin area was shut. Not that it wouldn’t be, still, if anyone else heard that statement, well…
Jason shook his head. “Wish I could believe that.”
“I wish you could too. Anyway, I’m going to the back to tell Anna you’ve accepted. You can’t back out now, my friend.” Gabriel stood and gave him a stinging cuff to the shoulder, a love tap between warriors. On the way out of the cockpit, Gabriel said over his shoulder, “You made the right decision, Jason. You can’t run away from life.”
Jason gazed out at the vast expanse of crystal clear sky and whispered, “No, you certainly can’t.”
Chapter Three
Jason drove his new BMW into the bowels of Guardian’s secure parking complex. Granted, driving in D.C. was hazardous to a person’s health, but Jason had to laugh when Gabriel demanded he drive the hardened vehicle. Armor plating protected the underside, doors, and body of the car. Bulletproof glass and tires that ran flat. The car was a fucking M1A2 Abrams tank, but it handled well and had leg and head room. Major perk. At least he’d successfully shot down Gabriel’s order that he have a full-time security detail. As far as Jason was concerned, that wasn’t going to happen. He’d take precautions, but he’d be damned if he put up with babysitters. Fuck. That.
He processed through security. Present badge, sign-countersign, physical markers identified… the familiar routine was one he didn’t think he’d be completing again, and yet, here he was waiting for the second set of sealed doors to open to the secure area of the complex. Once in the hall, he flashed his access card across the elevator’s reader and was whisked to the executive level. The second floor. Contrary to every office building in the world, the levels occupied by the executives of Guardian had no windows, were constructed to withstand a bomb blast and had reinforced emergency egress halls hidden between offices to facilitate evacuation should the need arise.
The elevator door slid open. Jason glanced up and smiled. His brothers, Jacob and Jared, stood next to Gabriel. The three stooges or the welcome wagon, either way, the greeting meant more than Jason would ever admit.
“About fucking time you came home,” Jacob drawled.
“Not sure I’m staying. Just trying the job on for size, little man.” Jason’s taunt to his youngest brother earned him a massive bear hug.
“If you ask us, it’s a perfect fit. God, we missed you, Jason. Gabriel has been so fucking needy.”
Jared grabbed Jason as Jacob let loose and pulled him into a quick hug.
“Shut up, Jacob, before you get fired,” Jared growled as he pulled away.
“Again.” The automatic response came in unison from Jason and Gabriel.
“Assholes.” The laughter and comradery loosened the tension Jason hadn’t realized he’d carried into the building.
“You two get back to work. Jason, when you’re settled, we’ll talk.” Gabriel headed down the plush hallway that led to the suite of offices he occupied.
“Lunch?” Jared asked them both.
“Can’t. Meeting Tori for a doctor’s appointment. I need to watch the boys for her while she’s there.” Jacob’s comment caught everyone’s attention.
“Is she alright?” Jared asked.
Jacob’s face turned a dark red and Jason knew without a doubt why Tori was going to the doctor’s. “You lecherous old man. You knocked her up again?” He may or may not have shouted that question.
“It would appear we need another form of birth control.” Jacob waggled his eyebrows. Jason had no idea how the hell the man managed the expression. He never could.
“You think?” Jared taunted.
“Yeah, maybe, or maybe she’ll castrate me. She was threatening that this past weekend. The scary part of that scenario is she grew up on a ranch. She actually knows how to make it happen.” The shiver of that gruesome thought ran through Jason. He noted Jared’s response was the same as his. Jacob laughed and cuffed Jason on the shoulder. “Welcome home, big man. You two, enjoy lunch. I’ll catch up with you later.” Jacob slapped Jason on the back again and headed down the opposite hall.
Jared turned and walked with Jason toward his new office.
“So how is Nicholas working out?” Jason asked. His replacement on the domestic side of the business had an investigative background similar to Jared’s. According to the briefings that had been coming at Jason non-stop since he agreed to the trial period, Gabriel’s primary concern right now was the business aspect of the domestic operation. The field work was bringing more clientele to the fold—big-money clients that needed the complete privacy Guardian could guarantee. Unless the customer was dirty. Every potential client signed the same agreement. If Guardian found out they were corrupt, they’d be exposed.
“Well, he’s not you, but he’s got a no-nonsense demeanor that suits the job. Nic works hard, plays harder and is damned tough. He’ll never be politically correct, so recently we’ve agreed that I’m the talking lead for the division. He’d just piss everyone off and we’d lose business. So, yeah, I like him.”
Jason entered the office that he’d occupy for the next five months and twenty-nine days. An adjoining door to the right of the office opened and a petite blonde teetered in on five-inch heels. She gave both him and Jared an up-and-down before she smiled radiantly and continued into the room. She balanced a huge stack of files and a large black mug that tilted precariously over the paper mountain she carried. She managed to make the short distance to the mahogany desk without dropping either.
“Sonya, woman… if you wear any higher heels, you’ll topple.”
“Well then stop f’ing growing, would you? I have to wear heels this tall or I feel like I’m a munchkin in the Emerald City. Damn giants.”
Jason strode across the room and enveloped the waif of a woman. Her familiar perfume filled his senses.
“I’ve missed you, Jason. Thank God you finally agreed to come back.”
Jason released his secretary and stood back, chucking her under the chin. “How’s Mark?”
Her wide brown eyes glowed with happiness. “He’s doing great. He’s got his new prosthetic and has been hell bent on getting back to work. The time he spent in South Dakota was a miracle for us. I thought for sure the psychological ramifications of that f’ing IED were going to take Mark from me. The rehab Guardian put him through brought him back, though. I don’t know what I would have done if he’d continued to spiral out of control.”
“I’m happy for you.” Jason folded her back to his chest for a brotherly hug once again.
“Dude, I’m out of here. Lunch?” Jason released the woman and glanced from his brother to his secretary.
“Am I free?” He directed his question to Sonya. Jason knew who really had control of his day, and it wasn’t him. It was the fiery-tempered blonde who kept him on his toes and on time for all his meetings.
&nb
sp; “As a bird. This week is for you to get up to speed on things, then you hit the hyper-speed button and start shadowing Gabriel.”
Jared laughed and called over his shoulder as he exited. “Free as a bird? I’ll believe it when I see it. I’ll be here at 12:30.”
Jason grabbed his cup and took a pull on his perfectly prepared coffee. He’d have to admit he missed Sonya taking care of him. Jason lost his jacket and unfastened his cufflinks. A double roll of his shirt sleeves up his forearms and he settled on his chair.
“Alright woman, lay it on me.”
“Okay. I figured the best way to work through the information would be to categorize the needed actions. The far right stack are current operations, the middle are future endeavors and the left is clean-up, things that Gabriel would like for you to go through, tie up or recommend action on.”
Jason looked at the neat piles of folders. Not that many. He could plow through most of them today.
As if reading his mind, Sonya chuckled before she said, “Oh no, this is just the start. My desk is covered a foot deep in these folders. I’ll bring them in as I sort them. You, my dearest boss, are going to be up to your very muscled neck in paperwork.”
Jason had no doubt. “Well then, milady, it appears we’ll need more coffee.”
*
The fluorescent light glared brightly off the papers on his desk. For six straight days, he’d worked through the financial, organizational and management aspects of Guardian Security. Half of what he read he already knew. The other fifty percent? Holy hell. The magnitude and reach of Gabriel’s mantle had figuratively floored Jason more than once. His ‘free as a bird’ week had morphed into working lunches and dinners with section chiefs from human resources, IT, finance, domestic and cyber security, international operations and secure briefings on clandestine operations. But through it all, Sonya ensured he had two hours every morning for his workout, and she made sure he left the office in the evenings in time to make it to his NA meetings. He’d promised his ward, Christian, that he’d spend some time with him tomorrow, so tonight he was burning the midnight oil. He like the kid. Kid, hell, the guy was twenty-one, pursuing his degree at Georgetown and getting his shit together. Stronger than Jason would have given him credit for, the young man had definitely put the time and energy into putting his horrible past behind him. Working late so he could hang out with Christian? That was a no-brainer.
Only three folders remained in the ‘clean-up’ stack. Undoubtedly, Gabriel was testing his understanding and exposing him to the enormity of his new station with the documents. In reality, Jason embraced the challenge and realized just how much he missed the business. Yet seeing an end to the tidal wave of folders made him damn near giddy. Thank God, he’d be able to move on to working with Gabriel. With dogged determination, Jason dictated briefs for each of the remaining situations held between the dark brown pressboard folders. He left voicemails and dictation instructing Sonya how to build responses based on his recommended courses of action, pitfalls to avoid, concerns on the information provided, requisitions for additional resources, or flat-out rejection of the projects detailed.
He relished the challenges that sat on his desk. No magic formula or framework existed that would address the inevitable variables and solve the complex issues inherent in the vast array of Guardian’s current and projected programs. The dynamic ingrained in this business was that problems might appear solved, but they contained the potential to morph into a new set of issues and expose Guardian to public view. And that was unacceptable.
Lifting away from his desk, Jason stretched to the ceiling trying to alleviate the stress to his lower back. It didn’t help. It never did. He lived with the discomfort. His rigorous weightlifting had strengthened his muscles, giving a measure of relief, but the ache seemed to be ever-present.
The last folder on his desk called to him. He glanced at the clock and groaned. He’d been at the complex since 5:00 a.m. and it was closing on 8:00 p.m. He could leave it and come back to work in the morning, or review it now, dictate his responses and have a full day off. Without hesitation, Jason pulled the folder toward him and unwound the string binding the information.
The sheath of paper stuck on the edge of the folder and the contents spilled haphazardly across the mahogany woodgrain of his desk. Not that Jason noticed the furniture. His eyes fixed on the photo that skittered to a stop by his left hand, a face he saw in his dreams almost every fucking night—Theo Collins. The tremor in his hand intensified as he reached for the other photo of two men, Theo Collins and Miguel Santos. Dead because of decisions he made when he led that mission from hell. The overwhelming urge to take a pill, or twenty, to numb his pain screamed across his nerve endings. Jason pushed away from his desk and dropped his elbows to his knees, holding his head in his shaking hands. How did this folder end up on his desk, and why? Why would Gabriel want him to make recommendations on this? What the fuck?
He lifted his eyes to the scattered papers, noticing for the first time the handwritten note on top of them.
Jason,
These men were seasoned veterans who knew the price associated with the mission we provide. They were willing to pay it.
Guardian and our nation have an obligation to remember the sacrifices made by these men. I have considered it my sacred responsibility, and now yours, to monitor the families of our fallen to ensure our organization provides for what they may need to go forward.
I realize I have failed you by not giving you the same support. Now it is time for you to go forward. Talk with your men’s families. Find the closure you need.
Remember, I won’t put more on your shoulders than I think you can bear. You, my friend, are the granite I am building my legacy upon. Find the strength to do what you know needs to be done.
G.
Jason shook his head, dropped the note and grabbed his suit jacket, cell phone, and keys. Eight steps put him out his office door heading toward the elevator. He wanted a handful of pills so bad he could feel the bitter taste pulling the saliva from his tongue. The need to numb the past and quiet the accusations screamed in his mind. The driving compulsion had never been as strong as it was in this moment. Oh, who the fuck was he kidding? The desire to use again was always there, lying in wait. Tonight, Jason desperately wanted to feel that obliterating peace and the floating high prescription painkillers gave him. A cold sheen formed on his skin under his silk shirt. His leg bounced in agitation as he waited for the elevator. His trembling hand drummed out a staccato beat on the cold metal frame surrounding the slow moving lift before he clenched his fist and slammed it into the thin metal casing. The pain from the blow didn’t dim his thirst for the drugs. The dent he left in his fist’s wake didn’t soothe the itch under his skin. Nothing would, except…
Fuck, Gabriel’s request pushed him straight back into his own personal hell. Well, he’d been here before. The well-worn path was easy to follow.
Jason scrolled through his phone looking for the information he needed. He knew where to go, who to talk to to get what he needed, and God pity the fool that got in his way, because he sure as fuck wouldn’t.
Chapter Four
“Hi, my name is Daniel, and I’m an addict.”
The murmured responses of the people who attended the NA group washed over Jason like a soothing balm. He let the tenor and tone of the meeting soak deep, filling cracks that had once again threatened to consume him. His tattered emotions lay open and raw, bleeding from the beating he’d taken by looking at that file.
That damn file. He wasn’t listening to the words being said, but he needed to be here. He needed the strength of knowing he wasn’t the only one. He struggled to come to terms with the emotional turmoil the file had unleashed. Jason sat at the back of the room, elbows on his knees, hands clasped, eyes closed tight against the relentless onslaught of memories.
***
Almost three years ago…
He’d searched for hours for his team. He reached t
he primary rendezvous point and waited. Not one team member showed. He spent most of the night working his way to the secondary and then, finally, the tertiary site. That was where he found three of his four teammates. Bound, on their knees, and at the business end of several Russian AK-47s.
Theo Collins had just taken the stock of one of the weapons to his face. Jason slid closer to the group, his weapon off safe and levered to semi-automatic. He cursed in a silent stream of anger and frustration. The position of his men prevented him from opening fire. He’d kill them along with the extremists.
Jason’s mind raced as he tried to formulate a plan—anything that could help.
“Tell me! Who are you? Who do you work for?”
Theo spat blood at the foot of the man. It cost him. The hollow thud of the man’s weapon against Theo’s face resonated again in the small opening.
“Answer me or I’ll kill you.”
Theo struggled back up to his knees. Through the snot and blood hanging from his broken nose he sneered as much as his battered face would allow. “Kill me, you bastard. I won’t talk.”
Jason watched the man raise his rifle, heard the metallic click of the weapon’s safety being released.
“They work for me. I’m their leader.” Jason emerged from the darkness of the trees and was immediately covered by automatic weapons. He raised his hands, gun held high, pointed at the sky. He motioned toward Theo. “He couldn’t tell you anything. None of them can, but my people will pay—and pay very well—for our safe return.”
“You are Americans. Americans don’t pay.”
Jason (Kings of Guardian #4) Page 2