Page 26 of Dark Side of the Cloth

His breaths came hard and fast as he continued to climb the tall tower, the sun scorching hot as it beat down on him, making the grip slick. The breeze picked up, and he gripped a little harder not to get pushed off the high structure. His muscles screamed as he reached the top, and he strapped on the gear laid out for each recruit.

He eyed the hanging rope judging the leap, and he backed up as far as he could. Taking a deep breath, he ran without hesitation for the opening to the swaying rope, which was a fair distance from the towering platform. Dean felt the addicting sense of hovering in the air before he started to fall. In those brief moments, he felt free, like he’d become one with a different world—a sense of calm and quiet flooding his system.

He reached out and cringed as the rope slipped through his hands, the hot burn a reminder that gravity was indeed still in full effect. The next rope was an arm’s length away, and one after another, he attacked the ropes, his muscles straining. The dripping sweat was making it harder to get a solid grip on the forearmed-sized material. A yell reached him, and he looked back to see one of his fellow recruits unable to hold on and land hard on the safety mats far below. That was one more person not graduating. Rocking his body, he built his momentum back up and continued until he reached the second platform.

He bent over and took a breath, his heart beating fast in his chest. Dean didn’t know why, but his father’s face came to mind, a man he despised, and he quickly pushed the image aside.

He took another shuddering breath and then jumped off the other side towards the dark water. Dean judged the landing as his body sped up and raced towards the blackness. Doing as he’d been taught, he made his body torpedo straight as his feet touched the water. The sudden cold was shocking to his system, and his muscles jerked and spasmed. He yelled, only bubbles forming as his legs and feet cramped up.

Keep moving. You must keep moving.

Submerged in the cold darkness, Dean saw his father’s face again, the image of a gangster, a killer, a monster. A man he never wanted to be like, yet here he was, learning to be the very best killer he could be.

He’d run from home as soon as he could. He found his opening one night and took it and never looked back. The person his father had wanted him to become was never going to happen. Did his father wonder where he was? He didn’t know, and he didn’t give a shit. This place was his escape. This was where he belonged: fighting for his country, fighting for his brothers, fighting for the innocent—fighting for himself.

Fighting through the extreme pain, he kicked his legs and reached for the surface of the water. The safety diver gave him a thumbs-up, and he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face as he swam the rest of the way to shore.

Dean pulled himself out of the water. It shouldn’t have been physically possible to do it, but he stood tall—his chest was pushed out, hands at his sides. His Master Sergeant walked toward him, clipboard in hand, and he showed off all the checkmarks on the list.

“A hundred percent, not an easy feat. You were cut out for this, son.”

Pride coursed through his body. “Hooah, Sir!”

Dean pulled on a tight black T-shirt, his thick muscled arms and tattoos proudly on display. Loud rock music played as a backdrop while he prepared himself for tonight’s agenda. He laid his lips on the long sharp blade, then slipped it home like butter in the sheath across his chest. Grabbing the black leather straps, he cinched them into place and proceeded to fill all the available spaces with an assortment of his favorite tools of his trade.

Next, he smeared blackout grease across his face, then leaned toward the mirror and finished the final details before pulling the black ball cap low over his face.

It hadn’t taken as much work as he thought to track down and eliminate possible suspects in Yasmine’s sister’s rape and murder. The list only had four names on it, and the first two, although they did have the proper sexual profile, didn’t match Yasmine’s description. Besides, they were both dead now from one disease or another, good riddance as far as he was concerned. The other two were brothers, and although Yasmine only mentioned one attacker in her witness statement, he suspected both had been at play. He had no proof, but he was about to get it.

Marching down to the church’s garage, he pulled the sheet off his black beauty. The glistening Hummer always called his name. He gently ran his hand over the hood like he would a lover before opening the door and slipping behind the wheel.

He plugged in his phone and connected it to the built-in AI and brought up the GPS. Pulling the keyboard toward him, he waited for the system to fire up. The Hummer was a gift from The Righteous, and thanks to his own and their secretive sources, he’d tactfully acquired many sweet ass upgrades for this beautiful beast. Including some very secretive military-grade tech that was on the ‘do not ever talk about’ list. A few keystrokes later and his windshield transformed into a massive map with his target’s location.

He’d already slipped a tracker onto the car of his objective and had been monitoring him in live time for a couple of days as he established a pattern to his behavior. Guys like this were predictable, and predictability got you killed. Not that he cared, it made his life easier to hunt stupid prey, but their screams of agony before their sweet death still held the same satisfaction. The Hummer revved to life with a roar.

“Sexy, is there anyone in the parking lot?” he asked the AI that was part of the built-in tech.

“No heat signatures detected in the vicinity.”

Hitting another button, the automatic garage door he had installed slid open, and he pulled out, gearing the bitch up. She roared around him as she lurched forward at his command. His black-gloved hands flexed on the steering wheel.

Marilyn Manson’s “Beautiful People” blared through the speakers as he raced down the back road. He rarely took main streets, too much scrubbing to do to make him a ghost.

The map and red dot on his windshield were getting closer, and the digital display showing a countdown of how long until he arrived at the location. He had to travel further than he liked outside of his hunting zone. He had no issue with hunting those further out, but he preferred to know where he was because he knew the camera’s locations and possible issues they could cause, like the back of his hand. But, this mission was important enough to break his rules. As he neared the city limits, he slowed and pulled onto the main street of a large industrial area.

Long, identical grey buildings, each sporting a different company name, lined either side of the road. Dean flicked the radio off and tapped a couple of buttons on the screen. Each color that showed up represented a different threat. Orange meant other humans, blue meant video cameras, and flashing red meant any form of emergency service.

However, nothing stirred in the darkness. This was the beauty of this type of area—the lack of activity. He pulled into a driveway on his right, a few buildings over from where he needed to be. He parallel-parked between two large garbage bins to conceal his Hummer from any random passersby. Putting Sexy into park, he hit a few buttons on the keypad and then reached into the back. The bench seat flipped open, revealing an array of guns. He didn’t need his sniper rifle tonight. For what he had planned, it was all about being up close and personal. He grabbed the HK416 and a couple of clips before relocking the hidden compartment.

“Sexy, blackout all cameras in a one-mile radius.”

He could hear the whir as the small satellite stood at attention.

“Wipe all images of us arriving into the city.” He removed his cap and slipped on a sleek black helmet with flick-down multi-vision capabilities. “Sexy, connect to the helmet.”

“Cameras are disabled, wiping has begun, connection has been established,” Sexy answered.

“You really are the best fucking bitch. You know that, Sexy?” Dean said as the screen now glowed in front of his eye.