Page 1 of Zero
Chapter 1
Zero
It had been decided I’d be the one to go on an exchange to Jamaica. That news hadn’t come as a great shock to me. Every year, the GSG 9 and the Jamaica Defence Force did an exchange. It had been a hassle to find someone—most were married, families, children.
Since Beast and Fleur were planning their wedding, Barbie and Crash had just gotten engaged and Pitbull and Mouth’s stories were intrinsically tied together, I was the odd man out.
The problem wasn’t that I objected to a free trip to the land of jerk chicken and the bluest oceans I’d ever seen. The problem was going to the land of jerk chicken and the bluest oceans I’d ever seen in the middle of summer.
I imagined the heat would be ungodly.
Landing at the Sangster International Airport left me breathless—and not in a good way. The trek from the plane to the building was uncomfortable. I couldn’t have imagined this heat.
It was as though the high temperature had sucked every bit of air out of the country. From time to time, I had to breathe out my mouth since my nose was burning so badly.
Inside the door, the air condition was turned up high, and I all but kissed the tiled floor in relief. I eased out of the way, allowing people to move by me while I gathered myself and caught my breath.
That was unbelievable.
I carried on, got through customs—then made my way to the pickup area. I wouldn’t step foot outside until I knew my ride was there. I’d been inside for a few minutes and though my body was cooling down, my eyeballs still felt as if they were on fire.
“Go to Jamaica, they said.” I muttered in German. “It’ll be fun, they said.”
I wasn’t prepared for this.
I made a mental note to buy myself a pair of sunglasses, then dug through my bag for my phone. When I turned it on, I was immediately flooded with text messages, but I ignored all of them to find the one from Justice Smith. I replied to it and waited. I sat on the floor next to my bag and out of the way while messaging back and forth with my mother.
“You must be Rei Hakama.”
The heavy accent wrapped around my name was strangely musical.
I liked it.
I looked up to find a Jamaican man, tall, brown eyes with a ready smile on his lips. He extended a hand and I accepted it to pull me to my feet. “You can call me Zero.”
“Justice Smith. They haven’t given me a nickname yet.”
“I had to earn mine.” I told him. “Maybe that’s how it works here?”
“We don’t really do those.” Justice laughed. “But it would be nice to earn one. Where are your bags?”
I hefted my duffle over my shoulder. “This is it.”
“You’ll be here for five months.” Justice pointed out, his accent like a musical note. “You don’t have nearly enough in that.”
“I don’t need much.”
Justice arched a brow at me then laughed again. “Come. Bailey will be pissed if we’re late for dinner.”
He tried carrying my bag, but I declined. Instead, I walked beside him to a black truck that resembled something out of a monster truck rally. I said nothing and climbed into the passenger seat after tossing my bag into the back on the floor.
We made our way from the airport and into traffic heading toward Ocho Rios. With the window down, my hair fluttering in the breeze, I could already feel the last few months melting away.
“They tell me ‘bout what your team went through.” Justice spoke, cutting through my silence. “Sorry, man.”
“Thanks.” I replied. “I still feel a little unsteady, you know?”
“Almost like you’re never going to be able to find your footin’ again.” Justice muttered.
