Darling - Serve in the Shadows Recruitment

Death is not the end. It is just the beginning.

While on deployment in Afghanistan, Master Sergeant Derek Lawson of the 75 th Ranger Unit, received a warning from a shadow-like figure, just in time for him to avoid a bullet from a hidden sniper. When Derek looked for the person, there was no one to be found. Back at base camp, the master sergeant receives news of his brother Grants death. Grant Lawson was a CIA officer and was killed while gathering information on a critically sensitive mission.

Through a twist of fate or because of the strong family bond, Derek can still see and communicate with Grant, together they are determined to find justice against his killer and to see his last assignment through to the end. With Grants skills, he learned from the CIA and clandestine services, and with Dereks knowledge and abilities earned with the Rangers, they make a great team. Together, the brothers will attempt to stop a terrorist plot and expose corruption within the upper levels of the CIA Clandestine Services.

Serve in the Shadows: Recruitment

Copyright 2018 by David S. Darling

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, please write to the author, at the email address below.

author.david.darling@gmail.com

This is a work of fiction . Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the authors imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Editor: Olga Sushinsky. www.wilson-editorial.com

Cover Art: Norm Jolin. www.ndesign-studio.com

Contents

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To my wife and mother and other family and friends, for your support and advice and continued assistance, for without you, this endeavor may not have happened.

I would also like to thank Jonas Saul for his encouragements, knowledge, and experience. You helped to shine a light unto my path, and for that I am grateful. You are a great mentor, role model and friend, and I wish you nothing but continued success.

There are many great people whom I asked technical questions to certain aspects of this story, and I would like to thank you for your help and assistance. Any errors or omissions are my own.

To my beta readers, thank you very much! Your kind words on my developing story helped me in the struggle to continue writing, even when it was furthest from my mind.

And finally, to my current reader. I hope you enjoy this book and future novels. For without you, there would be no one to read them.

Dave Darling

June 2019

Few men are killed by the bayonet, many are scarred by it. Bayonets should be fixed when the firefight starts
General George Patton Quotes, from War as I Knew It.- 1947

Lead, follow, or get out of the way. Senior NCOs world over .

Introduction

South Sudan

A short figure in a long tan robe moved slowly eastward along a sidewalk. His steps were deliberate with age. The fabric that swirled around the mans feet kept him cooler during the day and warmer at night, and with the daily climate change in South Sudan, that was essential.

It was a long way home after finishing his Isha prayers at the mosque . The only lights on the street came from one street lamp, that flickered dimly overhead. Fifty yards away were a few closed signs visible from the storefronts.

The man pulled out a new cell phone, as it buzzed. The illumination from the screen showed an old weathered face, darkened and lined from a long life of living outdoors. He squinted with one eye while scrolling through the screen on his phone, his left eye was covered a mass of scar tissue.

The light cast from the phone clearly showed he was missing three fingers on his right hand; however, he quickly navigated through various screens and menus with his remaining index finger. After a minute, the man stopped walking and frowned, raising his phone upward while turning around and trying to get a signal.

As he turned a few times to find a new angle, the street light went out, and the shops were plunged into darkness.

All power in the immediate area went dead.

He was using the light from the phone to look around, he began to pant, and his heart racing. Wide-eyed, he frantically he tried to pierce the darkness with the glow of his phone, without success.

He saw some movement too late as a shadow departed from the alley directly behind him. Then a very strong hand clamped a damp cloth over his nose and mouth, muffling any attempt to scream. Within seconds, the mans knees buckled and he collapsed, into a boneless heap on the ground, his left hand still clutching the phone.

Seconds later, an old dark minivan with no lights stopped beside them, the rear sliding door already opened. A figure from inside the vehicle reached down and lifted the unconscious man inside.

The side door closed, as they drove away into the night.

A minute later, the power was restored to the area, and once again, the signs in the storefronts shone their neon closed signs.

*****

The itching of fabric on his nose pulled Ymir from a deep sleep, and when he tried to reach up to scratch it, his arm would not move. Both arms were firmly tied to the chair where he sat. He could not place where he was either.

Opening his eye, Ymir tried to look around, by moving his head rapidly back and forth. He could tell that a heavy cloth bag had been placed over his head, blocking out the light.

Pulling up on both arms caused the small bands of plastic to dig into the flesh his bare wrists. A quick tug proved that his legs were bound in the same manner.

Beads of sweat rolled down Ymirs back, trickling down between his bare skin and the chair. Naked and tied firmly to a chair, he felt extremely vulnerable. The sharp noise of a door opening made him flinch. The sounds of two different sets of footsteps walking toward him caused him to cringe inside.

Suddenly, a bright light was turned on him, close enough that he could feel the heat on his skin. Abruptly the hood was yanked off. The light was such a contrast from the darkness it made him squint. He knew one man would be behind him, and the other be behind the lamp itself.

Lays ladayna alwaqt lildhahab bibut'in. nahn bihajat iilana iijabat ealaa alfawr , said the man behind the light. We do not have time to go slow. We need answers immediately. Ymir knew the man was an American, even though his Arabic was near flawless.

He continued in English, I know you dont fear death, Ymir, but you have the answers we need, and I need them now.

Ymir knew the only two answers that he had that they would be after, and the fear began to churl deep in his stomach.

The light turned to the ceiling, enabling him to see an open running laptop, which sat on a small rolling table. On the laptop screen was a video of a small house with two small boys playing ball out in front. On the step by the door, was their mother watching them play, while she talked on a cell phone. All taken from an aerial view.

This could only mean one thing.

Ymir began to moan and as a sense of deep horror sank in.

Your daughter has tried calling you all evening and into this morning Ymir. She is deeply concerned as to where you are, said the American behind him.

We have a drone in the air at this moment, targeting her house. I need answers now. Where is your son-in-law and who is paying him? You have less than a minute to tell me before it is too late to order back the drone.