AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You have babysitters on me.” I retort. When your uncle is the head of the CIA, you can get away with nothing. Not even a last-minute drinks date with your new neighbor.
“Always.” He deadpans as he sits next to me.
“Let’s get down to business.” Dad offers.
I glance over and see his face etched with more stress than usual.
Uncle Dan clears his throat, “Four weeks ago, a package was sent to your father at the Arlington office. Unfortunately, it got set aside and forgotten about until the other day when a second package that looked the same arrived as well. Your dad got into town and opened it and found this along with a note inside.” Uncle Dan reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out an evidence bag. He dumps out a bullet along with a handwritten note and hands it to me.
I read the note out loud: "Mr. Sterling, you don’t know me, but I know you. You’re going to give me what I need. Hesitate, and I’ll take something precious from you."
My blood is pumping. Like my uncle and father, I don’t take threats kindly.
My eyes glance at my arm in the sling. I’m not at my best; I can’t do what I want to be able to do to protect my father.
Uncle Dan sets the bullet that came with the message on the desk.
“I won’t let anything happen to you, Dad,” I tell him.
“It’s a father’s job to protect his children.” Dad bites with anger.
I lean forward, “And it’s a son’s job to protect his father.” Is he mad at me? It sure seems like it.
“Look at the bullet, Jules,” Uncle Dan orders me.
I reach for it with my left hand. It’s an Open Tip Match (OTM), specialized ammunition designed for unparalleled precision. The open tip, or hollow point, enhances the bullet's stability during flight, making it the sniper's choice for achieving pinpoint accuracy even over extreme distances. These are not just ordinary bullets; they are engineered for the delicate dance between the marksman's skill and the unforgiving laws of physics.
My index finger brushes over a textured edge that shouldn’t be there. My eyes narrow when I realize a name is engraved on the bullet.
“Julian.” I read my name carved into the bullet; my eyes snap up to meet my dad’s. “The bullet is meant for me.”
“Itwas meant for you,” Uncle Dan corrects me. “A second package came this week.” He pulls out a second letter, opens it, and hands it to me to read.
“It’s going to be so simple for you to give me what I want, just as easy as it would be for me to hit his heart next time.”
My heart jumps into my throat as my blood boils.
“It was targeted. The shooting on the base wasn’t an accident.” I voice.
“That’s why I’m involved. This is now a joint investigation with the CIA and CID. However, I’ll be leading the team now. Had the first package been opened the day it arrived, we could have avoided your injury.” Uncle Dan comments, his eyes looking at my injured shoulder as he grinds his jaw. “I’m sorry.”
“It's not your fault,” I reply.
I glance at my dad. His face says it all. He thinks this is his fault. “It’s not anyone's fault,” I stress.
“We’ll get it sorted,” Dad mutters.
“It’s not your fault, Dad.”
Silence.
“Who sent it, and what do they want?”
“The second package included a flash drive with instructions on how to upload the schematics to a server located in northern Russia. They want the design of the M17 Missile.” Uncle Dan says.
“That’s our latest. It’s just entered production and is classified.” I remark. Since my injury, I’ve studied all the products and contracts Sterling Defense is currently engaged with. Much to my father's disbelief in me, I will put just as much effort into being a successful CEO as I did in Delta Force.
“We have a mole,” Dad says.
