Chapter 2

A few hours later, Jack woke up refreshed. After brushing his teeth, he promptly folded his bed. It was a habit that he just couldn't kick, despite all the years that had passed. The bed was folded neat and tight, tucked in with properly squared corners. After finishing, he absentmindedly stared at his work for a couple seconds.

He could still hear the screams in his head, the Army Drill Sergeant chewing him out in front of his entire platoon for subpar folds. He had been a naive teenager who thought he had it all figured out. At the tender age of eighteen, the cusp of legal adulthood, he had given a blank check to his government like so many other brave Americans. His thought process at the time was to graduate boot camp and go to the School of Infantry. He had daydreamed about all the exotic locales he would travel to, all the ass he would kick with his brothers-in-arms. He hoped to become a well-read, well-traveled man who would have some stories to tell his grandchildren about what an amazing and fulfilling life he had lead. His dreams and hopes for the future were the only things fueling his motivation at the time and he soon came to realize, that they weren't enough.

The Army School of Infantry was one of the toughest challenges he had faced in his life. He struggled daily with the physical requirements and barely passed by the end of his training. If it wasn't for the motivation of his squad, he would never have gotten through. They came to be his closest family, the only real family he had ever known. However, there wasn't anything happening in the world that required deployment, so his squad was lucky enough to be assigned to a base in the country. It was a relatively cushy job that he had enjoyed a lot. The work was repetitive but simple and the fact that his buddies were pretty goofy helped alleviate the crushing boredom that he would face when they were assigned a ton of bitch-work. The numerous weekends they had spent going around town and having fun had been the best couple years of his life. The crude jokes, laughter and jovial attitude they had was something he fondly remembered. All of that changed one quiet Tuesday morning in September.

He had been taking a quick break before his shift started in the supply room. All he had to do was check boxes on a form as he walked around and inspected the armory, making sure that shit was where it was supposed to be. It was his best friend Tommy who had yelled for him the moment he entered the room. He had seemed out of breath and Jack had gotten a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something terrible had happened. They ran to the nearest television in the barracks, finding a large crowd of serviceman had gathered and were watching with disbelieving expressions. The cameras zoomed in and followed a plane as it crashed into the second tower. He didn't know what to think, and he had hoped that it was all a cruel joke. His eyes glued to the television, he watched as the people in the tower jumped to their deaths. The reporters on the ground were frantically running away as the tower collapsed. Jack had seen enough.

After a couple hours of silently watching, he went back to his bunk and sat down, trying to process what he had just seen. At first, he had simply been in shock, not able to understand why such a terrible thing had happened. The anger came next, as he started to think about what kind of animals would carry out such a brutal attack. His thoughts then turned to his fellow soldiers, many of whom had started desperately calling their families, trying to make sure they were okay. Others simply broke down, having already gotten calls informing them about their relatives dying in the attack.

Jack felt isolated as he watched his brothers and sisters grieve. While he could always sympathize with their plight, he felt it would be fake. He had never known his own family and he didn't want to. From as long as he could remember, he had been in a house with many other boys and girls. As the youngest, he had been frequently bullied and abused by his siblings and “parents”. After growing up, he realized that he had been nothing but an extra paycheck to them. Despite their harsh and uncaring treatment, Jack still felt some twisted sense of gratitude for their actions. He had grown up faster, learning the rules of life a lot earlier than those who were privileged enough to have caring parents.

The minute he legally turned eighteen, he soundlessly crept out of the house in the middle of the night. No goodbye hugs were given and no tears were shed. He chose to disappear from their lives, almost like he had never existed. His measly belongings in the world, a green toy soldier, a blanket and the clothes on his back were all he had taken. He made his way towards the recruitment center and slept right outside.

When the first recruiter arrived, he was surprised to find Jack sleeping outside. Waking him up, he invited him in for some coffee. While the coffee pot was heating up, he heard the recruiter ask him “What's your name, son?”. Slightly nervous, Jack responded “My name is Jack, sir”. “Nice to meet you Jack, my name's Scott”, the recruiter replied as he handed him a cup of coffee. As he imbibed the steaming, bitter concoction, Jack felt warmth spread around his body. “You hungry?”, Scott asked. Jack nodded and saw a bright yellow streak in the corner of his eye. He swiveled his body towards the object and caught it with one hand. Staring down at it, he found he was grasping a ripe banana. “Good reflexes” Scott remarked as he watched how Jack had caught the banana. “You play any sports, son?” he questioned as he started to peel a banana of his own. Jack replied in a respectful manner “No, sir. I never had the time”. “What did you do with all your free time then?”.“I washed the dishes, cleaned the toilet, wiped the floors and other household stuff”. Curious, Scott asked “Your parents made you do all those things? Did they at least let you go out to play after you finished?”. “I don't know who my parents are sir, I just lived in a house with a couple of guardians and some other kids”. “Foster care?” Scott asked. “Yes, sir. For as long as I can remember”.“Well that brings me to my main question. Why are you here, son?” Jack perked up and mustered as much enthusiasm as he could and said “I want to join the Army, sir!”. “Well that much is obvious seeing as you slept outside in the cold waiting for me to get here. What I'm asking you is why you want join”.

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The question threw Jack for a loop. Why did he want to join? It was something that he had never really questioned. He had seen a couple of Army recruiters at his school and had stood nearby when they were presenting to a group of people. They had spoken of adventure, camaraderie and the honor of serving your country. These things had simply appealed to him at the time and after a cursory review of a brochure from their table, he had been convinced that this is what he wanted to do.

Slightly unsure, Jack mumbled “I want to serve my country, sir”. The recruiter simply stared at him. Meeting his eyes, Jack's head slumped slightly, his eyes shifting away the moment they had made eye contact. “Really? Why don't you tell me the real reason?”. Surprised by this reaction, Jack forced himself to make eye contact and asked “Why don't you believe me? I really do want to serve my country, sir”. Laughing, Scott said “How long do you think I've been doing this, son? I've seen all sorts of men and women walk through here, each with their own reasons for joining. All of those who told me that they wanted to serve their country had a certain look in their eyes. A sort of determination and fierceness that was there for all to see. You my friend, don't have that look about you. So I'm going to ask you again, why do you want to join?”

Jack was facing quite the conundrum. He badly wanted to join the Army, but the last thing he wanted to do was lie to Scott. Providing he even could lie to him, which Jack highly doubted after their previous exchange, he started to question his motivations. His mind racing, he was trying to come up with a decent answer when he got a feeling. It was a gut feeling that he often relied on to avoid the anger of his siblings and guardians growing up. “Family, sir. I want to be part of a family”. He looked up and saw Scott's smiling face. “Don't worry Jack, you're going to be part of the Army family from now on. What branch are you looking to join?”. “Infantry, sir. I want to be an infantryman”. “Well then, lets get to work on making that happen”. Scott stretched out his hand as he spoke and Jack reached out and took it. It was a firm, strong shake that would signify the beginning of his Army career.

Three sharp raps on his door jolted Jack out his trip down memory lane. Leaping into action, he slid directly into his shoes, grabbed his pistol and angled it towards the door. Slowly walking forward, he rolled on the balls of his feet to minimize the sound of his steps. The door had a built in peephole, but Jack wouldn't ever use it. Anyone who used a peephole in his line of work was either untrained, or had a death wish. All it took was someone from outside to see the peephole darkening and a single shot would end the life of the person on the other side.

Making sure to avoid the peephole, Jack made his way to the right side of the door and crouched down. He transferred his pistol to his left hand and reached towards the knob with his right. Stabilizing himself using his knee, he prepared to open the door. He took this low angle approach as most people would shoot where they thought his chest and abdominal area would be. At least thats the approach he would take. Bulletproof vest or not, it would hurt the target enough to incapacitate them for a few seconds. While this approach would only cause a mere second of delay to a highly trained professional, that precious second could allow Jack to shoot back.

Controlling his breathing, Jack twisted the knob and opened the door in one smooth motion. Seeing no one in the immediate vicinity, he got up and leaned around the corner with his finger on the trigger and looked out into the long hallway. There was no sign of anyone, but there was a small cardboard box placed on the side. Hiding the pistol behind his back, he bent down, picked up the box and quickly retreated back into the room. The box opened without any effort and two things were inside. A USB drive and a small piece of paper with the words “Good Luck” written in a beautiful, cursive style font.

Jack went over to his case and unbuckled his laptop from the velcro harness inside. Powering it up he inserted the USB and as he tried to open it, he found a prompt on the screen asking for the password. He typed in “Good Luck” into the box and the prompt went away, being replaced with what looked like a directory of files. Starting with the first folder, he perused the contents. This is going to be a long day, he thought to himself as began his research on the target.