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Knot looks from me to Piper and back at me, his face pinching more each second. Piper is on her mat with her head down. I don’t think she’s moved since we walked in. “You two look like shit. Care to tell me what happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I’m sure you don’t, but I need those fifteen candidates alive at the end of the day. Talk to me. Fight me. Throw shit if you have to, but get whatever this is out of your system before you walk out that door.”
I sigh in resignation, and Piper does the same. “You were right. The cartel came back. Marisol wasn’t there, but her car was. They torched it and called her. God knows what they said, but whatever it was had her sneaking out and running home. I wouldn’t know that much except for a dear John letter on the counter.”
“That can’t be it. I know you’re not done.”
“Hell no. I’m not done. Not by a long shot, but I can’t chase after her right now. We’ve got shit to deal with here, and I need to figure out how to handle these pricks before I do anything. Marisol won’t come back unless it’s safe.”
Knot crosses his arms. “Hmm. What if you can’t handle these pricks? I know you’re good, man, but we’re talking about a network with at least some level of police corruption as protection.”
I drop my eyes to my desk. “I don’t know. I might take a Caribbean vacation and forget to come back.”
“That’s not funny.”
I don’t respond, and Knot swears. “Shit. You’re serious.”
“I am.”
Knot drops his head, shaking it from side to side. After a beat, he says, “Do what you have to, so it doesn’t come to that.”
He walks to the door but then pauses in the opening. “These guys are ready for you. Remember, they’re no good to me dead.”
I wait until Knot disappears around the corner before getting out of my chair. Piper doesn’t get up when I do, choosing to pout where she is. After stooping to pat her head, I leave my office door open for her and walk over to meet the recruits. This is going to suck.
“Congratulations. You’re no longer heroes,” I announce when I face the group.
Several men and women gathered share cagey looks, which I ignore. “You’re the government’s dirty little side piece. You’re the whore someone’s husband calls because he can’t engage in all his dirty kink with the wife. You get all the danger and none of the respect or protections afforded to members of the US military. You’re filthy, greedy, warmongering mercenaries to the outside world because you chose to do the same job with better pay, better equipment, and less bullshit. Like the whore, you’ll be expected to bend over wherever and whenever Uncle Sam calls. And when it’s all over, you’re expected to clean yourself up and sneak away so no one sees you. And God help you if you call attention to yourself.”
I scan the room, knowing I’m being harsh, but I’m nothing compared to what these people will face in the field. “Still with me?”
No one jumps up to leave, so I nod. “Now that I’ve managed your expectations, let’s get started. I’m supposed to evaluate your physical fitness, hand-to-hand combat skills, and mental aptness. Basically, my job is to fuck you up and see how you react. Since I’m in a shitty mood today, it shouldn’t take long. If at any time you feel like walking, there’s the door. I only need half of you to stick around.”
Still, no one moves. “No matter what I say, you are to keep your mouth shut. No matter what I do on the mat, you can only block. No return strikes. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir,” the group echoes with even less enthusiasm.
“If I don’t like you, you’re out. If Piper doesn’t like you, you’re out.”
“Who is Piper, sir?” one brave soul asks.
I issue a commanding whistle, knowing no matter how down she feels about Marisol, Piper will respond. The fifty-pound Malinois trots into the room, ready to go to work. “If you piss off my dog, you’ll be dead before I have the chance to call her off.”
Two hours later, I’m down three people: two airmen and a Marine. The marine surprised me. Those guys are used to being shit on. This one was just a little too hotheaded for my comfort.
I call for a break, shifting out of asshole mode now that I have a good feel for everyone’s temperament. No one asked why I was being so difficult. Unless these guys are idiots, they already know. Private military contractors get held to a higher standard than servicemen. In the military, fucking up means a demotion or time in the brig. Fuck up as a PMC, and you’re crucified, along with the rest of the organization.
By the end of the day, I waltz into Knot’s office and drop ten jackets on his desk. All I want to do now is escape to Marisol’s bed, where her scent still lingers on the sheets.
Marisol
I’m not enthusiastic about climbing into that limo with Dario. He’s always been polite, but something inside has always warned me not to get too friendly. Like me, Dario is the heir apparent to his father’s position in the organization, but unlike me, he seems keen to continue in the family business.
“I hear congratulations are in order,” he tells me.
“Oh?” I ask, surprised that he would know anything about me. It’s not like I’ve been around much in the last twelve years.
