Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
He cleared his throat. “The Middle East, in short.”
Terrance indulged him with a wry smile. “Give me the long answer.”
I smirked.
Danny chuckled and cracked his knuckles absently. “All right… I think something’s going on. Civil war in Yemen, an anti-West movement on the rise, the shit in Libya and Egypt, don’t get me started on Iraq, and in this region, I can count over twenty ethnic groups off the top of my head that hate each other to some degree, famine, everybody wants oil—including us—religious fanatics, and, let’s not forget, we left something behind when the Soviets and the US pulled out of Afghanistan. We thought we became the heroes to the Afghans when we helped them defeat the Soviets, but anyone who pays attention and actually listens to what the religious leaders and insurgents are saying…? We’re next on their shit list.”
Damn. A conspiracy theorist after my own heart.
Then again, they were no longer conspiracies. We’d never had so many scouts in the Middle East as we currently did. Same could be said for the CIA.
I shifted forward in my seat as I unlocked another level of interest in my boy’s mind. He wasn’t some soldier who just waited for orders; he kept himself updated on foreign affairs.
“So this is where you think your assignments would take you,” Terrance stated.
“That’s where I think we’ll have fires to put out, depending on how things escalate,” Danny replied. “Look—I’m a patriot. I love serving my country. But I’m not blind to the extremism we give birth to when we leave rubble behind wherever we go. It may have worked to end World War II, but it’s not working in that sandbox.”
I couldn’t help myself. I needed him to elaborate. “What worked in World War II?”
He shrugged. “Obliterating our enemy. Just look at Japan. And look at the reputation it gave us as tyrants and world police. But what are our options? Annihilate the threat and come out as both victors and oppressors, or destroy just enough to create a new generation that hates us? Or…” He shrugged. “Sign peace treaties that fail as soon as the next fanatic takes charge, and then we gotta be on high alert again, costing us billions in preparedness.” He paused, as if hesitating about what he wanted to say next. “This may sound strange coming from a soldier who admittedly thrives in a war zone, but it’s a lose-lose business. Every side considers themselves the good guys, so once the war starts, it’s just gonna go on and on until there’s nothing left.”
I never would’ve thought that this meeting would make me see a whole new side to Danny Rose. Not only did I agree with him, but I admired anyone who could see nuances and consequences. And we’d left a lot of consequences in the Middle East in the last twenty years.
Terrance observed Danny in silence for a moment. He exchanged a glance or two with me too, and I hoped we were on the same page.
“Do you see any other solution?” he asked.
Danny scrunched his nose. “That’s above my pay grade, sir. I’m not saying smaller conflicts can’t be solved with diplomacy, but in the end, I’ve chosen my side. My loyalty lies with my country and my people, whether we’re the good guys or the really good guys.”
I coughed around a chuckle, and Terrance shook his head, amused.
“A soldier who thinks outside the box and holds strong opinions,” Terrance mused, shifting his gaze to me. “I suppose we have room for one of those.”
We absolutely did.
Terrance wasn’t done with Danny yet, though. “As a private contractor, your work will obviously look different. It’s usually not a matter of good guys or bad guys, our country and their country.”
“I understand, sir.” Danny nodded. “Emerson told me you get a lot of extractions.”
Terrance inclined his head. “Among other things, but yes. It’s a private agency, and our clients these days are often civilians running out of options. When the government won’t help, they turn to us. Arthur—rest his soul—liked to call us errand boys with guns.”
I snorted softly.
Terrance smirked faintly and nodded my way. “Emerson is one of our best. You’ll learn a lot from him—just don’t play poker with him.”
I grinned.
He was wrapping things up, and I could tell Danny was waiting for the moment he could breathe out in relief. We both watched Terrance open Danny’s file once more, and the front page got stamped in the bottom corner.
“Your training begins next week,” he told Danny. “Emerson will set up an appointment for you with our counselors. It’s usually six sessions in a two-week span, followed by a physical evaluation. After that, you’ll spend a few mandatory months in our schoolhouse—and Emerson will be your mentor. Talk to him. You might dive in, thinking you’ll be working in extractions, only for you to discover you’re better suited for intel or clandestine ops. You never know.” He signed a form that he extended to Danny. “Work hard enough, and maybe we can speed things along so you can go through your final selection in November. That’s the next time we’re sending recruits down to Ecuador.”