Page 25 of Dark Side of the Cloth

It was wrong for her to want the man that did this to die, and it was certainly wrong to have those thoughts while standing on church property, but it was how she felt. She wanted the monster that hurt those sweet little girls to feel the pain and fear they had felt.

Yasmine took a deep breath, trying to steady the rampant emotions. At this point, she was unsure she’d ever feel alright again, but for now, she had a job to do.

She made her way to the waiting hearses with slow but precise movements and opened the doors for their special cargo. The shiny black cars would be the last journey for the girls until they reached their final resting places.

Ten Years Ago

“Get out! Move it, move!”

Dean’s class filed out into the darkness with no idea where they’d been taken. Even knowing the rumors about being dragged from your bed in the middle of the night was an option, nothing had prepared him for the onslaught that had barged through his door. The group of them sat in an assortment of dress: shorts, T-shirts, track pants, and one girl in her underwear with no top on at all. They’d bounced around in the back of the large truck, and the only sound was that of the large vehicle’s engine.

One of his class members stumbled on the rough terrain and landed face first beside him. Dean squatted and offered the guy a hand back to his feet.

“I said move it!”

Dean didn’t dare glare at the man, who undoubtedly was some form of a superior. Rising to his feet, he helped his class member stand.

“Thanks,” the guy whispered.

They lined up in two rows, lights of the truck the only available light around in the dense foliage.

“Who do you want to be?” Another masked man yelled, and Dean was pretty sure he recognized the voice as their Sergeant.

“Delta Force,” they yelled in unison.

“I can’t hear you!”

“Delta Force!”

“This will be the first of three field ops. If you are lucky enough to pass all three, you will become one of the most elite soldiers in the world.”

“Hooah,” they all yelled.

The sound sent a shiver of anticipation racing down Dean’s spine. He was so ready for this. His muscles twitched with eagerness to get going. He wanted this more than he’d ever wanted anything—other than his father’s head.

“You are fifty miles from your first target where a rotor head will be waiting. If you are not on target within a ten-minute period of what’s on your map, you fail.” The man looked at his watch and then grabbed the stopwatch from around his neck. “The sun will be up in three hours. You would be wise not to move like pond water.”

“Hooah, Sir!”

“This is not a group activity. Do I make myself clear?”

“Hooah, Sir!”

The man pointed to neatly packed black bags sitting off to the side. “Find yours, and it will hold your cammies and anything else you need to make it through the next forty-eight. Are you ready?”

“Hooah!”

“I still can’t hear you!”

“Hooah!

“Move your asses!”

Dean lurched forward from the line and dove for the bags, each one with a small name tag on it. Finding his, he got the hell out of the way and unzipped it to find his clothes and boots. There was also a map neatly folded into a small square, and he pulled it out and studied the dot that marked his first target. The ground would be tough going, but it didn’t matter. This is what he’d trained for all these months. Dean slipped on the watch that was also his navigation and zipped his pack. He quickly rucked up, picking a pace that he could do for hours.

By the time Dean reached the final stretch of the arduous two-day field op, his muscles sang with pain. But the pain was a blissful reminder that he could do this. Two members had already failed, and he was sure more would follow.

Streams of sweat ran down his back as he ran across the hard ground. The final obstacle rose in the distance before him, a formidable tower designed to test strength, endurance, and fear. He used his momentum and jumped, his hand gripping the lowest rung of the wooden ladder. He grunted as he heaved himself up, hand over hand, until his feet touched the ladder. He could hear the rest of the recruits in the distance. The sergeants were yelling for them to get their asses in gear. Dean paid them no attention, they would pass, or they wouldn’t. Either way was of no consequence to him. His goal was to finish first. Nothing and no one was going to stand in his way.