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I wander about the area, taking it all in. Seeing machines I recognize from Atom’s place, I debate if I want to push my limits on lifting. A wall of windows pulls my attention toward other sections of equipment and classes that are going on. One is a room with punching bags. Looks like a class just ended, as most of the people are heading out. The sign on the door says another class won’t start for three more hours.

With the door not locked, I walk in just as the last person leaves. I make my way to the far corner, eyeing each bag as I go, but I’m drawn to the one in the back.

When the quietness comes in, I take my stance, and then I punch. I focus on the bag and just let out everything I have. With each hit, I feel lighter, freer even.

“Keep your hands up.”

I lose my rhythm and look behind me to see Bass’s girl, Viv, followed me. My shoulders shrink, and I turn to leave. I’m not about to have a professional fighter tell me how much my self-taught anger-fighting skills suck. I’m looking for an outlet, not a reason to hate the one thing that makes me feel anything right now.

“Stop.” I turn back at her words and see her looking me over.

“You’ve got passion, I’ll give you that. Not technique, but that can be trained.”

“Trained for what?”

She shrugs. “To fight.”

I snort. “Please, like the Hounds would ever let me fight them.”

She shakes her head. “Wasn’t talking about the Hounds. I’m talking about in a boxing ring. One-on-one. Hitting and getting hit till the last one is standing.”

She moves closer to me and tilts her head. “That doesn’t scare you, does it?”

I shake my head as I realize her words actually created a sense of wonder in me.

She smiles. “Yeah, thought I recognized a kindred spirit. You’re just like my girl Summer. She’s had a shitty life too. For her, being in the ring is the only thing she feels she can control most days. It gets her out of her head each time and gives her a chance to breathe. Well, until she needs to go a few more rounds.”

“Is she any good?”

“Not like me, but she handles her own. For her, it’s not about winning. It’s about time to not think. To just be in the ring, focused on one goal and one goal only.”

“What’s that?”

“To not get fucking knocked out.”

I huff a laugh at her words, and she smiles.

“Come on. I’ll show you a few things.”

She turns and heads back to the corner I was in. I look out the glass partition and see Walker staring at me, long enough for us to match eyes. He gives me a chin lift before walking away.

Guess he doesn’t need to babysit me anymore. Not when a professional underground fighter is probably about to show me how she can kick my ass in less time than it takes for me to figure out what the hell I’m still doing with the Hounds.

Chapter 12 - Atom

A weekend away with OHH, Operation Hell Hound, turned into a month and a half. One thing led to another, and then another. Issue after issue. We didn’t expect them to split up the missionaries the Nigerians took, since intel didn’t indicate they’d done that before. But maybe they were tired of losing the people they kept going after and not getting their ransom money.

They were close to getting their ransom this time, but only because the minister was willing to do anything to just be done with it and stop getting the bad press that he was the one who said his church group should go to an area that the government deemed unsafe. He put them in harm’s way, and he wanted out of the press for his terrible guidance.

The guy still paid us a very large fee for the extra days we were down there. He’s filing for bankruptcy, but at least he doesn’t have to live with a death on his conscience for his atrocious call.

The man wanted to make a name for himself, thinking he would somehow convert the entire continent of Africa to his religion. Something that’s never been done before, despite the many attempts made by everyone else who failed. You’d think the man was smart enough to learn from others’ mistakes, but I guess not. Though now he certainly has a name for himself—as a cautionary tale. Try to put your nose in someplace it doesn’t belong, and you’ll be criticized and have to file for bankruptcy after paying a mercenary group to go in and do anything necessary to get your people back safely.

I’ve done missions with OHH for a while, but this was by far the longest. The mental aspect is no joke. Constantly having to be on call and ready to go is a strain I’ve never dealt with like some of the other guys. I came up from the streets, compared to those in the military who were trained to handle things like this. I just learned how to make it work. Sure, I took the required courses to make sure I’m qualified to be on this mission, but I still had limited experience compared to the others, it seems. Not that I let it hold me back at all.

“Ten more minutes,” Mickey calls out to me. I’m the last stop before the C-130 makes it back to North Dakota. I should be going back with the team as well to get a debrief, but Casper pulled in a favor to get me out early. He’s decided to finally ask his girl to marry him, and there’s a club party planned after. Each of us is meant to be there.

Not hating on it. I’d rather be home than away. There’s something about sleeping in your own bed that just takes a level of stress away.