Relevance
Sonya Loveday
Copyright © 2016 Sonya Loveday
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and
incidents are either product of the author's imagination or
are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or
dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved.
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in
any manor whatsoever without the express written permission of
the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover design by Sprinkles On Top Studios
http://www.sprinklesontopsudios.com
Formatted by Sonya Loveday
Edited by Editing Services by Cynthia Shepp
http://cynthiashepp.com
Published by Sonya Loveday
First Edition
ISBN: 1530477301
ISBN-13: 978-1530477302
Created with Vellum
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
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About the Author
Titles by Sonya Loveday
Chapter 1
The sound of utensils scraping against trays echoed in the mess hall. Idle chatter had no place in the mix of food being shoveled into hungry stomachs.
It had been over eight hours since any of us had eaten. Eight brutal, pain-filled, endurance-bending hours. And not a single one of us had any more energy than it took to bend our elbows and chew. We did that as quickly as we could before someone stepped into the mess hall and had us on our feet, taking us back into the night.
I was bone tired. Almost delirious. The gritty feeling of sandpaper rested heavy against the back of my eyelids. Each blink was more painful than the last. Fatigue had long past set in. With every swallow, the sharp hunger pangs that had kept me awake and all but drooling before I could shovel the first bite of food in my mouth finally subsided.
“Sergeant on deck!” someone bellowed across the room. The sound of over a hundred boots hitting the ground all at once reverberated around, followed by the swift swish of arms as everyone saluted.
“At ease,” Sergeant Allan Watkins announced as he scanned the room, cold eyes landing on me. I felt pinned on the spot.
Those around me sat, relieved to dive back into their meal, but I stayed on my feet, trying very hard not to sway as I watched him cross the room.
“Aceton, come with me,” he said, stepping to my side as if he were going to escort me out of the mess hall.
My insides twisted. What the hell could he possibly want with me? “Sir, yes sir,” I answered, grabbing my tray and dumping what I hadn’t had a chance to eat in the garbage can with an inward sigh of remorse. God only knew when I’d be able to eat again.
I ignored the hush that fell over the room as I made my way across the mess hall, praying to whoever was listening that he’d called upon me for something I could handle.
Sergeant Watkins waited just inside the double doors and fell into step beside me as we walked out of the building into the stifling night air.
July in Georgia was just like July in Alabama. Hot. Blazing hot. Even though the sun was hovering somewhere at the base of the trees, it didn’t do anything about cooling down the sauna-like feeling that lay heavy in the air.
The whine of a mosquito passed my ear as I kept pace with Sergeant Watkins to the captain’s office. I knew this only by the sign on the wall outside his door.
Sergeant Watkins rapped his knuckles twice with brisk force against the solid door. From the other side came the gruff reply of, “Enter.”
The door swung in, and Sergeant Watkins stepped back at attention to allow me to pass by before following me in.
Captain Harris rose from his seat as I stood rigid in front of his desk, my hand raised in salute. His return gesture was quick, a hand knifing out against the dimness of the room.
Captain Harris’ eyes fell on Sergeant Watkins. “Dismissed, Sergeant.”
Sergeant Watkins snapped his heels together and turned, leaving me wondering just what in the hell I had done to be brought before the captain.
When the door closed, Captain Harris sat down in his seat, plucked a pen up from the desk, and settled back into whatever he’d been working on before he was interrupted. “Sit down, Private,” he said, pen scratching against paper.
Twitching with curiosity, I sat in the chair to my left. “Permission to speak, Captain.”
“Granted.”
“No disrespect, sir, but why am I here?”
He looked up briefly, one eyebrow climbing up his forehead like a silver caterpillar. “I’m not at liberty to discuss that with you yet, Private.”
“Sir? I’m not sure I understand.”
“You aren’t meant to.”
My lips pulled hard against my teeth. Why would Captain Harris call me into his office and not tell me why? Settling back in the chair, I fought the urge to demand just what the hell he meant by that.
Fifteen minutes ticked away. Endlessly. My eyes became heavier and heavier. Each breath, deeper, slower, until my head bobbed, chin touching my chest.
The telephone on Captain Harris’ desk rang, interrupting the silence with a loud rattling noise that brought me out of the heavy cloud of sleep engulfing me.
“Harris,” the captain answered briskly, followed by, “Send him in.”
The urge to look over my shoulder and see who would be joining us made me twitchy. Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait too long, because the door swung open less than ten seconds later.
Both of us stood as a well-dressed civilian strode in and crossed the room, extending his hand to Captain Harris.
“Johnathan. Good to see you again,” the man said.
I blinked furiously, willing my eyes to stop playing tricks on me. My ears as well, because as I sure as I stood there, the man not five feet from me was Jared’s father. Grant Jackson.
Captain Harris grumbled something under his breath before adding, “Jackson, have a seat.”
“Thanks, but I’m in a bit of a rush,” Grant answered, turning to me. “Jake, it’s good to see you.”
I swayed for the briefest of seconds, wondering if maybe I had fallen asleep in my chow and was experiencing a very realistic dream. Grant’s hand came down on my shoulder. Warmth seeped into my skin as each of his fingers dug in, holding me in place.
“You can’t just escort him out without him signing the paperwork, Jackson. You know the rules,” Captain Harris interrupted.
Grant smirked at me before turning to reply, “Hadn’t planned on it, Captain.”
Captain Harris sat back down, hands folded loosely on his desk blotter, his face set in a blank look as he cleared his throat. “Private Aceton, this is Grant Jackson. I’m told you are acquainted…” He gave Grant a brief glance before continuing. “Mr. Jackson is here on behalf of a private sector that works alongside, but not for, the Armed Forces. In fact, most do not know of this sector,” he said, pausing to take a breath. “Mr. Jackson and his associates have been given the clearance to bring a recruit into the private sector. That being said, Mr. Jackson has specifically requested you.” His eyes squinted at me as if gauging whether I understood what he was saying.
I nodded, trying to keep the confusion I felt from slipping across my face.
Satisfied I was in fact of sound mind, Captain Harris continued. “Should you choose to accept th
is position, you will be required to leave base with Mr. Jackson immediately.”
His words rolled through my head like a freight train. Leave the base before basic training was done? “But I haven’t graduated yet. How can I be hired into the private sector?”
Before Captain Harris could answer, Grant spoke up. “Simple really… You’ve been selected by Cole Industries. Since it’s a private sector, and the Army is compliant, you will be exempt from the last two weeks of boot camp. However, your paperwork will reflect your graduation.”
“Will this end my Army career?” I asked, trying to absorb this dump of information.
Grant’s head tilted to the side, and then he looked over my shoulder to Captain Harris. “Can you give us a minute, Jonathan?”
I watched, partly in fascination and partly in confusion, as Captain Harris pushed back from his seat, glowering at Grant, and then moved around his desk. “You have ten minutes to talk it over and come to a decision.”
When the door closed behind the captain, Grant turned to me. “It’s good to see you again, Ace. I know this is a lot to take in. We don’t have much time for me to explain everything to you, but I promise you, I’ll try.”
My arms crossed over my chest as I fought off another wave of dizziness. “Thanks, but I think I caught the gist of it. You work for a private sector that works with the US government, and you’re here to recruit me, right?”
He smiled, pleased I understood, and then nodded.
I ran my hands through my hair as it all sank in like an anchor being dropped on my soul. “Does… does Jared know?”
Grant pulled in a deep breath and let it go, crossing his own arms to match my stance as he intently watched me. “No, he doesn’t, and I’d really appreciate it if we kept this between the two of us.”
Could I keep something like this from Jared?
My eyes squeezed shut. “Why?”
“Why didn’t we tell him?”
We?
“Yes.”
“It’s simple really. Jared’s mother, Nadia, and I never wanted Jared to know anything about this life. Never wanted any of what we were involved with to touch him on any level,” Grant answered. His shoulder lifted slightly as he sighed.
“But something’s changed…” I wasn’t sure how I knew that, but I did. It might have been the way Grant’s eyes seemed duller than normal, more tired. Or maybe it was the stiff way he held himself, as if he couldn’t relax.
“Yes, something has changed. Jared’s in danger. I need you to help me protect him. Which is why I’m here, and why I’ve pulled every string imaginable to remove you from boot camp early….”
The door opened without warning as Captain Harris walked in, closing it behind him with a quiet snick. “So what’s your decision, Private Aceton?”
The choice was a no-brainer for me, especially with Grant’s last words ringing in my ears. Jared was in danger. “I accept Mr. Jackson’s offer,” I said, hand raised at my forehead, waiting for Captain Harris to follow suit.
He waved my salute away and rounded his desk, sliding two documents across the surface along with a pen. “Sign and date here, and here,” he said, the blunt tip of his finger tapping against each signature line.
I gripped the pen hard between my fingers. Pushing aside all the unanswered questions I’d yet to ask, I signed my name. Nothing else really mattered when the question of Jared’s safety was the bargaining chip.
Captain Harris signed his name in the space under mine and then folded one of the papers, handing it to Grant as he said, “For your records. I’ve taken the liberty of having Aceton’s civvies brought up. They’ll be out by my receptionist desk.”
“Thank you. It was good seeing you again, Jonathan. Take care,” Grant said, gesturing me to the door.
“You too. Although, maybe next time I see you, you won’t be taking one of my best guys,” Captain Harris grumbled.
Grant smirked, giving him a nod before we stepped out into the hallway.
My bag with my belongings sat beside the secretary’s desk. She gave me a warm smile when I picked it up and slung it over my shoulder.
Grant didn’t say much as we walked out, crossing the grounds to the parking lot. Once we were inside the car with the base lights shimmering in the rearview mirrors, he cleared his throat. “I know you have a lot of questions…”
I snorted, flinching after I’d done it. What sort of boss was Grant? What sort of chain of command would I have to follow? Was it like the military? Would I get in trouble for insubordination for speaking out of line?
“Sorry, sir,” I said, hoping that wouldn’t be the first of many marks against me.
Grant chuckled. “This isn’t like basic, Jake.”
I let out a long breath and allowed myself to relax into the passenger seat. “So what is it like?”
“More… so much more,” Grant replied, turning the car into a private airfield.
I sat up a little straighter, eyes taking in my surroundings. “How so?”
“Well, for starters, everything you’ve been through so far in boot camp is just the tip of what you’ll be doing for Cole Enterprise. From here on out, until I deem you ready, you will be training with select members of my team. When you’re not endurance training, martial arts training, or in the gun range, you will be sitting behind a computer, learning how to manipulate and research the dark web,” Grant answered, putting the car in park.
I smirked at everything he’d rattled off. “Oh, is that all?”
“Nope, but it’s a start,” he answered, shutting the car off and climbing out of the driver’s seat.
Grabbing my bag from the back, I jogged to catch up to him as we crossed the tarmac to a set of stairs leading to an unmarked Leer Jet. Grant took the steps two at a time, meeting the pilot inside the cabin with a quick handshake.
“We’re all set for takeoff, Mr. Jackson,” the captain said, holding his hand out to take my bag. “I’ll just stow this, and then we’ll be off.”
“Thanks, Captain,” Grant said, moving further into the plush cabin. He chose a seat at the four-person table to the left of the cabin.
I eyed the couch that stretched out on the right side with a bone-deep longing. What I wouldn’t give to lie down for a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. My stomach rumbled, rubbing itself hard against my backbone. On second thought, make that food, and then sleep.
Grant chuckled. “Wait until we get leveled off, and then you can raid the refrigerator.”
I massaged absently at the hollowness and chose the seat opposite of him as the door to the plane lifted up, sealing us in.
The engines rumbled to life and then the plane bumped down the runway, gaining speed until we were up, soaring into the clouds. When the seat belt sign dinged telling us it was safe to move around the cabin, Grant stood and opened a cabinet above the table, retrieving a laptop.
“Grab me a water, will ya?” he asked, tipping his head towards the small galley area. I was out of my seat and headfirst into the fridge in three strides, salivating at the smell of freshly sliced lunchmeat. I plucked the first plastic container my hand bumped into, not caring what kind of sandwich was in it, so long as I could stuff it in my mouth and get it into my protesting stomach.
Tucking two waters under my arm, I grabbed two small bags of chips and then made my way back to the table. The first bite was euphoria. The second bite… pure bliss. And for as hungry as I was, the sandwich filled me pretty fast. The chips topped me off to a drunken state of carb overload.
After tossing my garbage, I sat back down, leaning my elbows on the table as Grant pecked away at the keyboard, not quite ignoring me, but in no way trying to keep a conversation going.
“We have a few hours before we’re in Chicago. Why don’t you rest up so that when we land, you’ll be ready to meet with the team?” Grant said, peering over his screen at me.
“No offense, sir, but it doesn’t seem right stuffing my face, and then crashing out before I know w
hat’s really going on,” I answered, hunching my shoulders against the strain of keeping myself alert.
“Jake, believe me when I tell you this… there is a lot you’ll have thrown at you once we get to headquarters. So much that it might just make your head spin. The last thing I need is for you to fall out on me because you’ve been plucked up in the middle of basic, practically starving and completely sleep deprived.”
I blinked, unsure of what to say. My mouth opened and closed with no words moving past my lips.
Grant tilted his head, one eyebrow kicked up as he said, “What? You don’t think I know the hell you’ve been through these last couple of weeks? You’re not my first Army recruit, nor will you be the last. In fact, you’re doing a whole lot better than most of them. Then again, I did step in and take you before basic was over. Go get some sleep. Trust me. You'll be thankful you did.”
“Why Chicago?” I asked, pushing myself up from my seat.
“Why not Chicago?” Grant countered.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I just… I mean, your house is in Alabama. I guess I just figured you worked somewhere close.”
“That’s what we always wanted you boys to believe. The less anyone knew, the better,” Grant answered, giving me a half shrug. “Once you’ve been fully briefed, you’ll understand the need for so much secrecy.”
I nodded. “One more question. You said Jared is in danger… do you mean he’s in danger right now?”
Grant tapped his fingers against the table, one eye squinting slightly more than the other before answering me. “No. Not yet anyway. There has been talk. Chatter really. For now, he’s somewhat safe.” One shoulder lifted in a partial shrug as he continued, “Nadia and I are taking every measure possible to keep Jared out of this. To keep our lives from intersecting into his. With him being on tour, it makes it a little harder.” He stopped with a brief snort. “Actually, that’s not true. With Jared stepping out into the limelight, so to speak, it makes it a helluva lot harder than it would have if he had gone to college. Or if we’d have brought him in with us a long time ago when he showed so much promise of being a brilliant programmer. All we can do now is keep really close tabs on him through his bodyguard.”
Relevance (The Six #2.5) Page 1
