Page 36 of The Soldier

I don’t think he liked me.

We rose up the ranks at the same time for a while. He became a Ranger while I ended up in the Special Forces.

Don’t get me wrong, he has skills, but his attitude always held him back. The problem is, he doesn’t know it.

The more I progressed, the more competitive he got. It was uncomfortable and created small problems. Nothing notable I could ever report.

But I sensed it and did my best to navigate it.

When I was invited to join Delta and declined, I overheard him tell someone he’d also been asked to join the teams.

Which is a lie.

If he had, he wouldn’t have said a thing.

I never have.

Not even to Ryder and let me tell you what a missed opportunity that is to wind the guy up.

“Take any of the spare beds,” Private Mahoney says and gives me a knowing look before disappearing.

Yep. Miller is unliked here too.

I drop my duffel onto one of them and then face the men. They’re all experienced men, I can tell.

None of them familiar.

“Hey man.” One of them shakes my hand and introduces himself. “Johnson.”

He too gives me a look that sayswe all know Roger is a fuckwitand a few of the other ten or so men standing and sitting around either wave out or offer their hand.

“You just fly in?” Johnson asks, taking in my black fatigues. I no longer qualify to wear the US uniform as I’m not enlisted.

I sit down on the end of the bed and untie my laces. “Yup. Private job. The colonel will go over it at the briefing.”

That’s all they’ll get out of me, and they’ll respect—

“Fancy private mission huh? Who are you doing work for? POTUS?” Miller asks.

I don’t look at him or respond, simply place my boots beside me, laces tucked inside. Then add my socks.

Old habits die hard.

When I do look up, I glance around the uncomfortable faces, stand, rip off my black T-shirt, and rub it over my damp face and hair.

“Where are the showers?”

“Cocky as always, I see.” Miller laughs and heads over to his bed. Then leaps back on it, the creak only just holding his weight.

Jesus he’s a cocksucker.

“I’ll show you.” Johnson smirks and tilts his head toward the door.

Grabbing what I need, I follow him over to the portable shower units and it suddenly hits me where I am. Back in enemy territory.

This was not the plan.

I messaged Josh to say I’d arrived and would check in when the job was done. Then he can bill the client. He’ll want proof. That’s the most dangerous part. Sticking around to get photo evidence when you need to hightail it out of there.

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