Page 24 of Wandering in Darkness
“Does it look like we have a plan?” Antonio cries, finally free of his bag prison.
I’m not even given time to get into position. The door opens and I swing the bar hard and fast, slamming it into the head of the person opening the door. Another rushes me, surprised but recovering impressively quickly. He tries to dodge the first hit but doesn’t see me reach for his gun as the second hit puts him to his knees. I jerk the gun up and aim it right between the eyes of the third guy and realize that he’s reacted just as fast. His very own gun is pointed right at me, hand on the trigger, eyes focused as we’re left in a standoff.
And of course the man behind that gun is the one and only Grayson.
Fuck.
SIX
CAL - PAST
While the professor drones on, I notice my pocket is vibrating its heart out. Of course the woman has hawk eyes and is enraged when students check their phones during her class, but I’m about to take the chance just to see who wants me this badly.
Honestly, people rarely do.
The grumpy older man I visit occasionally has probably never called me in his life. My mother would never call me even if she was on her deathbed and told to say her final farewells. And besides a few friends from my time in the military, I don’t have anyone else… and they never call. Why call when you can text?
I slowly pull just the edge of my phone out, and that woman’s eyes are immediately on me and they are not pleased. I pretend like I was just removing the phone to put it in my pocket for mere comfort when I see that the name on the missed call notification is a higher-up from the military.
I hesitate before standing up.
“Where are you going, Mr. Ward?”
“Sorry, it’s a military matter,” I say, even though I’m no longer in the military. It just sounded good, and while her lips purse and her eyes narrow, she doesn’t stop me. I step outside the room and return the call.
“Ward, it’s Lieutenant Allen,” he says the moment he answers.
“What can I do for you, sir?” I ask, not quite understanding why he’d call. It’s not like I particularly know the man. We’d rarely spoken, not having been stationed anywhere near each other. I think the only time we had spoken was after he finished watching me train with my rifle. He’d even gone out to the training field with me and asked to be my spotter for some training sessions with my rifle. I remember being so nervous that I was afraid I was going to miss every shot, but thankfully I didn’t embarrass myself. Afterward, he complimented me and went on his way.
But it made me feel good.
I didn’t get compliments very often growing up. I could have brought home a letter stating that I was the smartest kid in my school and that the president of Harvard hand-delivered a letter of acceptance to me, and my mother wouldn’t have even said anything about it. She might have even asked why I was bothering her with such nonsense. She never wanted kids and she made sure I was well aware that she only agreed to have me because my father, who died when I was young, wanted children.
“It’s disappointing you moved on from the military. You were an essential role.”
“Thank you, sir,” I say, loving the praise.
“I’m hoping you’ll hear me out. We need a sniper, and the moment it was mentioned, I knew you fit the bill perfectly. Thejob is simple; you’re practically there only if things go wrong. And trust me, they can’t go wrong.”
“I’m… not in the military anymore, sir.”
“I know. We would be pulling you in just for the job. I’m well aware we have many trained soldiers and officers who I could enlist, but what I care about most is getting my team back safely, and if anything were to go wrong, I’d want you there to make sure they go right. It pays, of course. It’ll be a couple of days in and out, and then you’ll be back to your normal activities. You’re going to college, aren’t you?”
“I am.”
“You’ll have a letter excusing you from all classes for the period you’ll be gone.”
“When… would this period be?”
“We’d leave Saturday.”
“Are we staying in the country?”
“The details of the operation will be explained if you accept. How about you think on it and let me know this afternoon?”
“Okay,” I say as I see the other students leaving the classroom. The professor even peeks out to stare at me, like she wants proof I really am on the phone. I finish up the call and head out to my car. Instead of driving to the apartment I’m renting, I drive past the house I grew up in—which my mother still owns but barely visits—and over to the place next door. I pull in and head up to the front door where I knock.
Of course he already knows I’m here because the crabby old man has nothing better to do than stare out his window and look for people to glower at.
