Chapter 2

Maverick: Tower. This is Ghost Rider requesting a flyby.
Air Boss Johnson: That’s a negative Ghost Rider, the pattern is full.

-Top Gun

Max

The men were seated, buckled, and in the upright position as I made my way to the front of the plane. Some were eyeing me with contempt for holding up the plane, but, mostly, they watched in curiosity as I walked to my seat. It was a tight fit and I realized that maybe I shouldn’t have waited so long since I practically had to crawl over every one of them. Murmurs followed me, and I just smiled. Of course, they were curious as to who I was, and why I was so special that I got to come in ten minutes late and not get into trouble. At the very front, I sat down in the one remaining seat that was open, and started strapping myself in.

 

C-130s were not comfortable. They were made for expediency in transporting troops where they needed to go. This plane was not comfortable. The seats were shit; you were lucky if you didn’t have a raging backache by the time they dropped you off. The person beside you was so close that you touched from thigh to shoulder.

 

“Nice of you to show, Tremaine.” Layne said impatiently.

 

“This your new group, Core?” I asked, as if I didn’t notice his impatience.

 

Layne Corey was a very good man. At five feet eleven inches, he wasn’t the biggest man around, but he was the most authoritative. He was honorable to the core, but you didn’t fuck with him, his men, or his country; if you did, you would rethink it really fast. When I first started out in the army, I was assigned to Layne’s command. Over the course of six years, I watched and learned from him. Layne taught me everything I knew about interrogation. About how to get anything out of anyone. I trusted the man with my life, just as I did Sam, Gabe, Jack, James, and Elliott. Needless to say, if anyone else had called and told me they needed my services, I would have declined. Layne calling me meant that it was something so extreme that they couldn’t take this to anyone else.

 

“No. I don’t have any more recruits to run. We’ll talk more when we get to The Sandbox. I have a new team over there; we’ll debrief, and then get you started on what we need you to do.”

 

I nodded, knowing from experience that he wouldn’t be telling me anymore. Leaning my head back, I let my eyes close, and I fell into a light doze. My mind wandered to Payton, and the night we spent together. Then I thought about how scared she looked as I left, and started thinking of the many things that could go wrong. I could die. She could die and I wouldn’t be able to get there in time. She could be hurt, or jumped on a dark street just as she was with that dick head ex-boyfriend of hers.

 

I stopped my brain on that thought. If I kept it up, I would be sporting an ulcer in no time. Except that my mind didn’t want to stop. It wanted to replay it over and over again. The altercation I had with Rory reiterated what I already knew about him. As soon as Payton told me the basics of the attack, I knew that Rory was a worthless little worm who didn’t deserve to live.

 

The night Payton told me about her attack, I’d visited Rory. I’d never intended to confront him, but I’d witnessed a fight with Rory and the new girlfriend, and felt it prudent to speak with him.

 

A young woman that looked to be in her early twenties came barreling out of the house, followed by a man that had on jeans and nothing else. From what I could decipher, she didn’t like being called another woman’s name during sex. It would have been funny except that the woman he was talking about had been Payton.

 

I waited until the woman peeled out with a screech of tires, before making my approach. It took until I was three feet from the idiot before he noticed me. He startled like a frightened cat, and I let a chuckle escape before I reined it in.

 

“Can I help you?” Rory asked like a whiny little child.

 

“So, you still have a thing for Payton?” I questioned.

 

“Who the fuck are you?” He asked.

 

I was tempted to say ’Your worst nightmare,’ but refrained since it was so cliché. “I would be the man in Payton’s bed. I’m the one who calls Payton’s name when I come.”

 

It wasn’t really true, but he didn’t need to know that. I intended for it to be true, so the rest was just semantics.

 

His eyes had narrowed before he said, “You’re not her type.”

 

“What is her type? You? You think she likes wimpy boys who leave her to die instead of helping like a real man would?” I asked blandly.

 

“You don’t know jack shit. It’s none of your fucking business anyway.”

 

I felt anything but sedate. I was hot. I wanted to pull this guy’s eyelids off, and make him eat them. My skills were about to come in handy. Taking one deep breath and holding it for six seconds, I blew it out slowly, and then started my interrogation.

Giving him the intensity of my eyes, I replied, “That’s where you’re wrong, boy. So, why’d you do it?”

 

“None-ya.” He said with a petulant voice.

 

Oh, how original.

 

The bullshit answers went on for nearly ten minutes before my patience was at an end. Something snapped inside me, and I reached out for his throat, wrapping one hand around it, and pushing him up against his front door. Rory looked shocked, but I didn’t know why.

 

“Now, how about we get down to what really went on, and how about you stop delaying. I’m a little sick of your bullshit.” I said, while giving his neck a tighter squeeze for emphasis.

 

“I t-thought she was with m-me. When I got back to the car and realized she wasn’t behind m-me, I went back.” He cried.

 

“So you went back, but you didn’t help her. You just stood by like a pussy and watched them beat the shit out of her?” I asked quietly.

 

“I called the cops.” He squeaked.

 

“You called the cops. How nice of you. You know, I really want to beat the ever-loving shit out of you right now, but I won’t. You’re a worthless piece of shit who doesn’t deserve to live. I hope you rot in hell. Stay away from Payton. You better hope I never see your face again.” I said, before smacking his head into the door for emphasis. I smashed him against the wall once more before letting his throat go. I was quite satisfied as I watched him slump to the floor, and then nod at me in understanding.

 

Turbulence in the cabin jolted me out of my thoughts and I gasped. I hated being on a fucking plane. Man was not meant to fly. If he was, he would’ve been born with motherfucking wings. Layne gave me an amused glance, and I flipped him the bird before closing my eyes again, trying to get my breathing back under control.

 

“You look weird, Max. Something you need some help with?” Layne sniggered from beside be.

 

Once again, I flipped him off and said, “Fuck you, and yes, actually, you can. Will you hold my hand?”

 

Layne stared at my hand in disdain, and turned his head as best he could given what little room he had to move.

 

I laughed for a good five minutes before I sobered and said, “Actually, I really do need some help. You remember Apollo? I was wondering if you had a way to contact his breeders. I’m interested in purchasing a family protection dog.”

 

“Yeah, I remember him, dumbass. He was my dog! I’m still in contact with Apollo’s trainers. I think the owner of K9 Protection is still Taylor Soloman. I have his email right here.” Layne said as he read me out the email address.

 

I typed out a basic email explaining what I wanted, and then hit send hoping that this was still the correct email for the man. The more I thought about it, the more right I felt that this was the answer to all of Payton’s problems. Since she was dead set about not having any help, and doing things on her own, I knew that this would be okay in her eyes.

 

My phone pinged fifteen minutes later, and I pulled up the email.

 

Max,

 

I’m so happy to hear from you. I was so saddened to hear of Apollo’s death. The important thing I tried to make understood, throughout the company, was that he died doing what he was trained and loved to do. As for your inquiry, I think we have just the dog for your fiancé. Since you will not be here to take over the dogs handling, I’ll have one of our female handlers teach her exactly what she needs to know. The training will take around two weeks. We will make sure that the dog is compatible with Payton, and make sure that she will know just what kind of weapon she will have in the dog. The dog I’m thinking will be a perfect fit is actually Apollo’s great grandson. He has an excellent bloodline, as you know. I’ve attached a photo of him. His name is Alpha. He weighs in at eighty-nine pounds even. He’s a year and a half old, and has tested well with kids. He also has a deep love of women. We tried to pair him with a male owner, and he was having none of it. I’m not saying that he wasn’t good with him, but that he goes above and beyond for a female. As for payment, that can be negotiated. As soon as we make sure the fit is right, and that Payton is able to handle Alpha, then we will discuss payment. I’ll have Claudia hand deliver Alpha next week. Make sure Payton knows to expect her.

 

Best Regards,

 

Sol

 

I was pleasantly surprised to see that he remembered me so well. Years ago, I’d gone with Layne to pick up Apollo. We both had to go through a week training course before he would relinquish the dog into our custody.

 

For the next three years, we worked with Apollo. He was one of our team. The day he died, it was as if we’d lost one of our own. He’d done a sweep of the building and found explosives lining the interior. There was so much C-4 in that building that when it blew, it knocked down every building in a two block radius. Apollo was too close to the blast, and was killed when a building collapsed, crushing him underneath. We worked for hours freeing him, and he had a funeral just as any soldier would. We never got another protection dog, because Apollo just couldn’t be replaced.

***

Fourteen and a half hours after leaving the Gregg County Airport, we arrived at COB Speicher, during one hell of a sandstorm. It took another hour, of waiting it out, before it passed. By the time I stepped foot off the ramp, I was already ready to leave. This place sucked. I forgot, or blocked out, how much I hated it.

 

I followed Layne into the belly of the base. We walked into a meeting room, and there, surrounding the tables, were a number of men and one very pissed off looking woman. Layne took his seat at the front of the table, and I made my way to the back wall and leaned against it. I didn’t want to sit with my back to the door, and the only seat left was doing exactly that.

 

The woman had a silent snarl on her face, and I wondered what I’d done to piss her off; it’s not as if I’d ever seen her before. The other four men looked to be reserving judgment until I’d proven myself in some way. Each one of them looked alike. Each of them had a beard, dark colored hair, and deeply tanned skin. The only difference was the amount of bulk they sported, but that wouldn’t have been noticeable if you weren’t looking closely, which, I assumed, was their objective.

 

“Alright, ladies. You all know why we’re here,” Layne said, when I interrupted him.

 

“Actually, I don’t. Why don’t you enlighten me?” I asked briskly.

 

“We don’t really want you here. We could’ve done this on our own. The only reason you’re here is that Layne said you could help. Why don’t you shut up and listen to him.” The she-devil snapped.

 

Layne silenced her with a sharp command, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at her chastised look.

 

“We have a man in lockdown. The past two weeks we’ve been hearing chatter through the locals that there’s an attack planned on COB Speicher. From what we can surmise, they want the base back, and us out. Preferably dead. The young man in custody has some serious training. When PFC Torres found him, he came in without a fight. It’s been sixteen days now, and everyone has tried to break him and couldn’t. That’s where you come in. We need what he has.”

 

“Why would you need to have me recalled? Why not just call me, I would’ve come.” I asked perplexed.

 

“We tried. Apparently, the brass no longer wants civilians that aren’t in a contract with the government working on anything that has to do with National Security, and that takes months of fucking paperwork, and we don’t have that time to waste.” Layne explained.

 

I nodded in understanding. The government was really starting to crack down on certain matters. That’s the whole reason most of the men from our team got out when they did. They were tired of the bureaucracy bullshit.

 

“Alright. What am I allowed to do to him?”

 

The she-devil snorted in derision, and I continued to ignore her. The men, however, seemed to think it was humorous and a few chuckles rent the air. It was a legitimate question, though. Everything depended on how fast the information needed to be obtained. Over the years, I’ve honed my skills, and planned before going in how far I was willing to go.

 

“Whatever it takes.” Layne said simply.

 

“He won’t be able to get it done. What are you going to do then?” SD scoffed.

 

“O’Hare, you have a lot to learn.” Layne chided.

 

“He hasn’t even been in the military for over a fucking year. He’s rusty and out of practice. What can he do-” O’Hare was saying, before I lost the control on my patience and reacted.

 

O’Hare was sitting across the room from me, sitting behind the table with her arms crossed over her chest. I didn’t let that stop me though. One second I was leaning against the wall and the next I had O’Hare pinned to the chair. Around the room, I could feel the men tense. They reacted, but it was too slow. I already had O’Hare in a position that didn’t bode well for her future if she decided to fuck with me anymore.

 

“Let me tell you something, little girl. I’m in better shape now than I was when I was eighteen and finished with boot camp. I could kill you right now, get away, and none of these men could do a single fucking thing to stop me. I’m not fucking you, and you’re not my sister; I don’t have to deal with your shit. Why don’t you check that attitude of yours, because I’m extremely tired of hearing the trash that is spewing from your mouth. Are we clear?” I asked.

 

She reared back her head, and I knew what was about to come. Letting go of her left hand and transferring it to my right, I swung my hand up and turned her face before she could spit at me. I just laughed. Obviously, she thought I was joking, but I wasn’t.

 

“That’s enough,” Layne said. “O’Hare, I think it would be best if you sat this one out. It’s obvious to me that you can no longer keep yourself detached from this project.”

I let her go, and returned to my position across the room, resuming my relaxed position. This time, I crossed my feet, showing her that I didn’t see her as a threat in the slightest. O’Hare continued to argue, but got nowhere. She stormed from the conference room in a flurry, and I was grateful that I didn’t have to deal with her anymore. There was nothing worse than having someone on your team you couldn’t trust.

 

“Thank you, Baby Jesus.” The man with the lightest of bulk said.

 

There was a round of agreement that followed that statement’s wake, and I cracked a smile for the first time since I left Payton standing on the tarmac.