Search and Destroy by JT Sawyer (top non fiction books of all time .TXT) 📗

his team debriefed then took a shower and got a solid night’s sleep before awaiting orders for their next target. Though there was relief and gratitude for a mission that unfolded according to plan, celebrating and backslapping were outside the norm for an SAD operator.

“Yeah, Cassie and I will be there. I wouldn’t miss your famous pineapple upside-down cake, after all.”

He thrust his chin at Burke’s office across the floor of open cubicles. “Better get in to see the boss before he summons me on the overhead.”

She smiled, returning to her computer screen as Cal meandered past the other staff, exchanging brief pleasantries along the way with the rest of Burke’s cyber-security personnel, whom he had grown attached to during his employment.

In their eyes, he was a subject-matter expert in high-risk security, having previously worked for the State Department on providing protection details for embassy personnel and ambassadors. His identity came with a full cover story and fabricated background complete with a comprehensive work history he had committed to memory. It wasn’t hard to pull off the ruse since he had perfected it, with a guilty conscience, on his wife during their time dating. Once they were engaged and she had been further vetted by the agency, he was given the go-ahead by Patterson to divulge that he worked in covert affairs for the CIA, but that was the extent of her knowledge of what he did.

Such was the schizophrenic way of life that permeated every SAD operator’s psyche. He remembered the first time he called home on a satellite phone after a grueling mission near the Pakistan border, where he and his team had dispatched a notorious bombmaker and his crew. Cassie did all the talking, about her work as a paralegal at the Pentagon followed by her Pilates class and pasta dinner on the back patio of their home as Cal stared down at the droplets of blood on his dusty boots while the odor of dried animal dung wafted through the wind coming off the mountain pass behind him.

As he entered Stephen Burke’s office, the scene began to play out like it had during the past nine months, with the shrewd older man typing away on his laptop and, without looking up, reciting a quote from one of the literary classics and seeing if Cal would respond with recognition. Whether it was Dante, Poe, or Homer, Cal usually surprised Burke with his knowledge of literature, and he was grateful for his mother’s background as an English teacher.

Cal stopped beside Burke’s desk as the older man leaned back, interlacing his hands behind his wavy silver hair and smiling.

“I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love. If you want me again look for me under your boot soles.”

Burke gave a wolfish grin, flexing his eyebrows after reciting the old quote. “Ha, I’ve got you at last.”

Cal’s eyes darted along the tiled floor then up to the well-stocked bookcase beside the large window. “Resist much, obey little.”

The older man clapped his hands, smiling. “Bravo. Walt Whitman would be proud, my boy.”

“How’s it coming?” He pointed to the man’s laptop, which was connected by ether wires to a massive central processing station that occupied much of the back wall. That was the heart of Perseus, the mainframe that Burke had spent the past two years building and then the past nine months teaching. It was also the reason why Cal was standing in the room and not on some windswept battlefield four thousand miles away.

Burke rested his furrowed hands upon the edge of the desk as if he was a proud parent peering over the edge of a crib. “Soon…very soon, then he will be on his way from walking to running.”

“You really know how to redefine being a nerdy scientist, Stephen.”

Cal figured his circuit and cloud-based creations were the only children the man would ever father given his propensity for his work and the fact that he logged more hours in this office than at home with his wife, who was usually traveling abroad on fundraising activities for their various charities.

“True enough, but one cannot remain a lion on the prowl forever. Sometimes, you have to find that perch over the river and settle down to enjoy the view.”

“You talking about me now or you?” Cal waved his hand around the room. “You’ve been at this game a long time and can have anything you want in life given your wealth, so when are you going to find that perch?”

“Soon.” He rocked his head to either side. “Or maybe never. There’s too much to learn still and so much to discover. When you stop learning you die, in one form or another, Cal. I’ve seen it with the colleagues I started out with years ago.” He got up, arching his back then walking to the bookcase, removing a small, elongated box covered in blue wrapping paper.

He handed the gift to Cal. “I’m not sure where you are headed after this—and not even sure I’d want to know—but I wanted you to have something to remind you of your time here.”

Out of habit, Cal almost reached for one of his two folding blades to slice open the package but instead slid his thumb along the edge. Given Burke’s lack of dexterity from too many years behind a keyboard, Cal suspected it was his secretary Becky who had performed the neat wrapping job.

He lifted the white lid, his eyes settling on a glimmering gold watch. Cal gazed at the Rolex then at the fine details in the hour and second hands. “God, Stephen, this is incredibly gracious, but I can’t accept something like this.”

“With the meager salary our government is paying you for the risks you take, I implore you to accept. Besides, I already had it inscribed on the back.”

Cal turned over the watch to read the words etched in cursive.

It was the best of times.

It was the worst of times.

“Dickens.”

Burke grinned. “Not bad for an