Page 1 of Creed

Prologue

Sergeant First Class Alistair Creed

Delta Force, Combat Applications Group (CAG)

Operation Dark Shadow: Afghanistan

Creed

The stench of blood, piss, vomit, and death surrounded me. My head hung low as my body hung from the chains. Her screams caused more pain than my bleeding injuries and broken ribs. I could squeeze my eyes shut to escape the sight, but I couldn’t shut off the sounds. She would pass out, leaving only the noise of her chains, the moans of pleasure from our captors, then wake and begin screaming again. I envied Drakos, that last blow to the head knocked him out. He was saved from a torture that was far worse than physical pain.

Magnus fought the chains, his screams and curses faded with time, only to be replaced with his pleas to give her mercy.

Granger was slowly bleeding out, fading in and out of consciousness as he hung from his chains.

My head was jerked back, just before another punch to my kidney. “Open your eyes or they die.” They wanted to torture me by making me watch.

I refused, not because I refused to face the sight before me, but because death would have been mercy for them. One of the men moved in front of me and I spit the blood pooling in my mouth directly into his eyes. “You’ll die today, mother fucker.” Now that my eyes were open I could see the man that just raped Bolton leave the room. That meant there was only two left with us.

He wiped the blood from his eyes just as my head was pulled back by another man and a scream pierced my ears. It was the girl, she woke, and began begging the men to spare me. She pleaded for them to take her innocence in exchange for my life.

Bolton’s screams faded minutes before, and I could see she was passed out and hanging completely nude from her chains, and blood was dripping down from between her legs. Next to her was the girl who was passed out from her own torture until she woke. She was just a child, too weak and fragile to fight back. They allowed her to lay on an old cot.

“Leave her alone!” I screamed as the two men turned from me and one walked toward the girl. Magnus and I screamed and fought against the chains. She was only fourteen years old. It would have been an act I knew I wouldn’t survive witnessing.

The closer they got to her, the more adrenaline flowed through my veins. One man stood in front of me, facing away from me and toward the man that was about to rape the girl. As I watched the fat bastard put his nasty, slimy hands on the girl, the adrenaline from my hatred and anger gave me what Ineeded. I looked at Magnus and he gave me a nod, saying we would both die trying. It was our first opportunity to make a move. Quietly, I began swinging my legs. I swung higher and higher until my legs wrapped around the mans neck. Crossing my ankles, I quietly squeezed the life out of him then twisted my body, breaking his neck. All the while watching as the other man ran a knife up the girl’s bare leg. Slowly, I lowered the man’s lifeless body, then let his head hit the old concrete floor with a thud. The fat bastard by the girl turned and saw the lifeless body of the man I just killed. He growled then took off toward me, his knife pierced into my gut delivering the most intense pain I ever felt, as Magnus screamed at the girl to do her part. My murderers eyes were locked into mine as he held the knife in my gut, but I used my last bit of life to smile because I could hear the commotion outside. It was Axton, he finally came with another team, and he was raining hell down on that camp. Then I could see the shock in his eyes when they grew large, just before he fell to the floor, exposing a large set of blue eyes. The girl stood before me with a bloody knife in her hand.

Nine hours earlier…

I was not a good man. I had been living a lie for a few years and it was all catching up to me. When I got to basic, they called me pretty boy. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was about me that the Drill Sergeants hated. Was it my perfect white teeth, the lack of calluses on my hands, or maybe it was because my athletic build made me stronger and faster than the other guys? Maybe it was my disposition, my arrogance, or my baby face like they said. It could have been any of those things, but it also could have been because they knew. They knew my father tried fruitlessly to bribe the higher ups to kick me out. But money doesn’t buy everything, and I was an adult. I was able to make my own decisions. Possibly something about mescreamed rich boy. I had to work harder than anyone else, prove myself to be just as tough, and push my body almost to the brink of destruction. All the while, I left behind a heartbroken father and didn’t look back. A father I disappointed and made to feel helpless as he desperately tried to reverse my enlistment with no success. All of those actions on his part made me more determined to succeed. My dreams didn’t align with his, probably because he was a broken man and I’d never be that weak. He was a good man that only wanted the best for his only child, but his only child was selfish and ashamed of his father’s weakness.

I looked at the people around me. I saw three brothers and one sister. We weren’t related by blood, but we were family in trust. They were good soldiers that offered me friendship and respect. We were a team, only I was a liar. I was not the young man I portrayed myself to be, and I had them all fooled. The very people that trusted me with their lives.

I worked damn hard to become a Green Beret, then worked even harder to join Delta Force. I worked hard, fucked hard, and lived hard. But it was all catching up with me. I knew I was going to die that day, and guilt was about all I felt. Guilt over how I treated my father in life and after his death. Guilt over lying to the fine men and women I served with, when all they ever did was respect me. Guilt over tearing apart everything my father ever built and selling it off piece by piece. He left me everything he had, even his good name, and I stomped all over it.

Nobody joined a combat applications group because they had an easy life. At least not sane people, but I often questioned my sanity. When Magnus was eighteen, he had a full ride hockey scholarship to Indiana University. He had a loving family that was proud of him, until he was falsely accused of rape andarrested in front of his entire school. He lost his scholarship, and his father made him enlist hoping the judge would take it easy on him. His dad lost faith in his innocence because the girl was pregnant and seemed traumatized. They all said he was guilty, until the girl got caught in her lie.

Drakos found his parents dead from a murder suicide when he was six. He curled up next to his dead mom and stayed there for two days until someone stopped in to check on the young family.

Axton’s father went to prison after he beat the kid to near death when he was eight. His mother was a drunk and he raised his little sister while trying to go to school and work two jobs.

Irons could have had a good life, if his older brother wasn’t kidnapped from a grocery store. The boy was three years old and Irons was an infant. His brother was never found. His parents dedicated their lives to finding the boy, forgetting they had one at home that still needed a mom and dad. As a teen he almost fucked up his life by crashing a stolen car at a high rate of speed. He almost killed a girl, and he was only fourteen years old. Did some time in juvie then straightened his ass out. Ended up graduating a year early after he discovered he was actually smart.

Then there was Bolton. The female member of our group. Smart as hell, and educated a little too much with a Ph.D. in psychology. She was older than us, but never talked much about her past.

Last but not least was Granger. The only other guy that had a decent childhood, besides me. He claimed to have loved his wife since he was seven years old. Neighbors as kids, they were best friends until they started fucking in high school. Hewas going to die with me, and sadly, he hadn’t yet met his infant son that was born less than a month prior.

Drakos, Granger, Magnus, Bolton, and I had ourselves in one hell of a bad position. It was a simple high value target mission gone wrong. We hit our target, caused damage to the enemy, then out of nowhere hellfire rained down on us. We made it to the chopper, but it was shot down, putting us right into the hands of the enemy. We were captured, hung by chains, and left to wait for the torture we all knew was coming. But then we spotted her in the corner. A little girl, one that was far away from home. Captured in Taiwan while doing missionary work with her parents. Somehow she ended up in Afghanistan. It wasn’t long before we figured out it was human trafficking. A fourteen year old American girl being held in Afghanistan.

It was one thing to look death straight in the eyes. We all knew if Axton didn’t get there soon with another team we would die. We would probably be tortured for intel, and we knew it, but none of us had it as bad as Bolton. They had her hung up nude in front of us so they could force us to witness the torture that would be far worse than our own. She knew it too, we could all see it in her eyes.

I was sure the others hanging on chains were prisoners in their own minds, just like me. Forced to face our regrets and ultimate deaths. For me it was about my father. He might have been a good man, but he was weak, and it was shameful. Most people would think the kid of a billionaire would be spoiled and ungrateful, and they were right, I was all those things. That a kid would be proud of his father for working so hard and making so much money, but I was ashamed of him.

It was all because of my bitch of a mother. She didn’t just walk out on him, she walked out on both of us. Being marriedto a billionaire that was actually kind and generous would have been a dream come true for most women, especially the daughter of a dairy farmer. She didn’t fit in with the high society of old money. The women laughed at her, but it wasn’t because she was not from their world. It was because she tried too hard. Always trying to be someone she wasn’t, stirring up drama, and throwing tantrums when she wasn’t the center of attention. She filed for divorce, dad tried to kill himself, and all that drama hit the front pages of the news. Even the part where he was found foaming at the mouth by his nine year old son. Next to him was a letter to my mother saying he would always love her. He was broken and weak, but that would never be me. I had to be stronger, tougher, and think for myself. I wanted to change the world with my fists, not behind a desk. Fifteen years after his suicide attempt, he died in his private jet when it crashed in France, leaving me his billions.

I lived in a crappy two bedroom apartment in a run down building with Axton, my best buddy. I rode a 1999 Dyna, owned a twenty year old truck that only started half the time, and lived as a regular soldier. All the while I had billions invested, earning interest, and not a dime was spent. While Axton barely had money to eat, sending money to his sister and paying her tuition, I had billions I hid. It was true what they said. It never ends with just one lie. It started in basic when I was treated so harshly because of my good looks. I knew if I ever told anyone I had money they would make it physically impossible for me to join Delta Force. Basic was already hell, I couldn’t imagine qualifying for CAD. So, I lied, then one lie turned to two, then three and so on. The people around me needed to trust me with their lives, and finally speaking the truth would have destroyed that trust.

There I was, hanging by chains, and the torture hadn’t even started yet and I was making promises to God. If we allsurvived, I would make it up to my team. I would create a better world for them, and I would help people. I would change lives for the better, no matter the cost. I would make my father proud and create something in his name. Somewhere safe but also feed those soldiers needs to be who they were, and that would always be soldiers. The military fucked us over on that mission and it was time to separate when the chance came, and create something of our own. I’d also become the businessman my father wanted me to be, there had to be a way to do that, to make him proud.

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