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Jagger
Somewhere in Warrenton, Virginia
Two days before
Brave. I’d been called a hero, an honorable man. They were just words, syllables to mask the horror of learning truths. Words that made those with little or no understanding of their actual meaning able to get up every morning, going about their day-to-day business. They could never understand the sacrifice, the horrors inflicted, or the tragedies witnessed as blood covered everything around you. I was a bitter and angry man, but not because of the anguish I’d endured.
My rage remained because of guilt.
And self-loathing.
I would never accept the accolade or the medals that had gone with the supposed act of bravery. Maybe that’s why I was surprised I’d allowed myself to get reined into the secretive mission.
Or why they’d insisted I become a member of the team.
I allowed my car to idle at the end of the driveway for almost three full minutes before making the turn. When I did, my entire body tensed. I’d been called to the Pentagon into a secret, very private meeting. I’d been given few details other than my services were needed. For what I had no clue, and that pissed me off. The high-ranking official who’d spoken with me for five minutes refused to give details yet promised an exciting, lucrative new career. Then I’d gone through a battery of tests, both physical and psychological. I’d been surprised I’d passed the last one given the… condition noted on my record. I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel. Some called me crazy. Others had mentioned the word killer.
What I knew was I didn’t like not being told what the hell I was getting myself into. Granted, I’d remained intrigued, which is why I’d made the drive.
Going into any situation without advance knowledge of what to expect was akin to a trap.
While I continued to ask myself why the hell I’d traveled to somewhere in bumfuck Virginia, I’d known the answer the first time. Loyalty and duty. It had been ingrained within me from the moment I’d entered the military years before.
I’d been given explicit instructions where to go and what to do once I arrived at the specific time. The time provided hadn’t been mine to question. There was no room for tardiness. I either arrived at the scheduled time or would be forced off the team. Whatever the hell that meant. As the tree-lined driveway gave way to a view of the structure in front of me, I was momentarily confused.
The house appeared like any of the two dozen that I’d passed in my drive into the countryside, only larger and more secluded. I pulled to a stop, checking the few notations I’d made before easing the car around to the side exactly as I’d been told to do. Once I was in place, I opened my window, aiming the small device toward an indiscriminate panel box located on the side of the house. To an untrained eye it appeared like an electrical box and nothing else.
But I knew better.
The ground beneath me began to vibrate, the platform covered in turf slowly lowering beneath the earth. Within seconds, I was transported to an underground facility, concrete and steel surrounding the oversized room. There were three other vehicles already parked side by side. I rolled my Mustang closer, taking one of the designated spots.
As soon as I exited my vehicle, I noticed a man dressed in a dark suit waiting several yards away. I removed my weapon from the back seat, sliding it into my holster. Caution was necessary in any situation of this nature.
The older man eyed me with no expression, but his gaze slowly lowered to my gun then back to my eyes.
“I was beginning to wonder about your acceptance, Sergeant Stone.”
“And you are?”
He smirked as I approached, studying me intently. “My name is Charles Broderick. I am the director of this unit.”
Director. Whether he was a Pentagon suit or a decorated member of a branch of the military was information not deemed necessary. If I had to guess, I’d say he was using a false identity.
“What am I doing here?”
“If you will follow me, I’ll provide you with answers. You are the last to arrive so we will begin shortly.” He didn’t wait for my answer, turning and moving into the shadows of a corridor.
I hesitated, but my gut told me this was on the up and up. I followed, my curiosity piqued, even though I wasn’t in any mood for a discussion on policy and rules. I’d made a promise to myself that after leaving my former special unit, I’d never set foot in another foreign country. What was the saying? Never say never.
From what I could tell, the facility was state of the art, the underground location completely secure. I was led down a second corridor. There were several unmarked doors, but he headed to the end of the hallway, placing his hand on the console beside it, waiting until the door clicked then moving inside.
As I walked in, I instinctively placed my hand on my weapon. There were two other men inside, both armed, which meant they were as apprehensive of the out of the blue call as I was. Director Broderick headed for the other side of the room until he stood in front of a bank of computers. Within the oversized room were almost a dozen computer systems, one wall covered in large screens. Satellite equipment and other communications devices were banked on another wall, a large conference-style table set up near the third.
This was an operations center and from what I could tell, a war room. What the hell was I getting myself into?
“I’ll make the introductions brief so we can get started. As I mentioned to all of you, I’m Director Broderick. Before you ask, I was a former Marine turned Raider, moving up through the ranks until asked to work with the president directly. Jagger Stone, also a highly decorated Marine Raider sanctioned to Black Ops, nickname Cobra. Santiago Rodriguez, former Army Ranger also moved to Black Ops, codename Viper. Finally, Gabriel Barrington, a highly respected former Navy SEAL serving as a Black Ops team leader, codename Shark.” He looked at each other of us then pressed a finger on the keyboard of the computer in front of him.
A logo flashed onto the screen, but only briefly. Eagle Force. As I read the short description, I took a deep breath. I’d been asked to be nothing more than a glorified bodyguard and mercenary. I wasn’t certain I was interested any longer. It had taken an act of God to find me during a brief visit to DC, but the soldier had been clear that my presence was wanted in a meeting in thirty minutes. I’d been escorted like a prisoner inside a dark SUV, taken to a secure facility for my initial… debriefing.
