Page 5 of Notorious

We know the kind of shittheywill do to them.

Gates moves up front with me, taking the co-pilot seat, and takes a long breath. He grips my knee hard, pulling off his balaclava, panting hard, and looks into my now-watering eyes. “Those wereourmen. We lost all of them becauseyoudisobeyedmydirect order! You get us safely back to base, and then I’m going to makedamn sureyou never serve another fucking day in the Special Forces. Do you understand me, Landry?” Swallowing hard, my palms sweat and my entire body shakes. “I said… Do. You. Understand. Me?”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

“You can count yourself lucky the ambassador and his family are unharmed. It’s the only thing that will stop you from going to military prison for this.”

Turning back to concentrate on getting everyone back to base safely, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. A pain searing through me where I was shot. Blood seeps through my camos as I fly the helo away from this mess, feeling like the agony in my side doesn’t even touch the surface of the pain yet to come.

I didn’t think it would turn out this way.

We had a mission.

A task.

A duty to uphold.

We were sent to get the ambassador and his family out, and if we left when Gates first told me to, they definitely wouldn’t have made it out of there alive.

We succeeded in the mission.

But at what cost?

I put the mission above my team.

And because of that, all but one of them are dead.

That’s something I’m going to have to live with forever.

And I just don’t know how the hell I am going to be able to.

CHAPTER TWO

Alpha

Seven Years and Eleven Months Later

A shock of electricity rolls through my back, a painful reminder of everything I’ve lost. Letting out a low groan, I rub the old wound where I was shot the day of the embassy attack as I sit in my highbacked brown leather chair. Exhaling, I glance around the room I spend so much time in, looking over all the details I have added to make this place feel like a safe space. A haven I can come to where my thoughts calm.

The deep, navy-colored walls are accented with silver wall trim. The built-in bookcase behind me holds an array of literature from military precision warfare tactics to how to break down and rebuild a V-twin Harley-Davidson motorcycle engine. I spend my time here unwinding by reading, which occupies my mind with something other than the raging thoughts rampaging through my fucked-up brain.

My deeply tattooed hands slide over the walnut epoxy table. My pride and joy, an offering to my brothers when I became president of this motorcycle club. The lines of black resin throughout the table encase wheel chains, sprockets, and sparkplugs. A real centerpiece of this Chapel.

LA Defiance is not where I thought I’d see myself ending up.

Let alone the fucking president.

I was a highly-trained Special Forces soldier.

It was my duty to serve my country.

That all fell to shit the day of the embassy attack.

I made a judgment call, which resulted in the death of eight of America’s finest soldiers.

And I can never forgive myself for that mistake.

What I did do right was get the ambassador and his family out safely, which I don’t regret.

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