Sworn to Protect by A K August

Author:A K August [August, A K]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9798645225698
Published: 2020-06-17T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ANTHONY

When Katie showed me that picture, I recognized him instantly. Fucking Scott Dwyer. I knew that bastard was going to be trouble, but Mark said he could handle him. Mark was great at getting what he wanted. He had all the professor's wrapped around his finger at Georgetown and had dreams of taking that to the top. After we graduated, Mark wanted me to join him. Said I had a face people trusted and with my pedigree, Dad was a policy advisor under several administrations, and Mark's tenacity, they'd own DC in ten years.

It didn't appeal to me, selling a product, an agenda. I would be selling myself a little at a time. The FBI was a good fit. I used my law degree and military service background to make the world better; at least I hoped I did and watched as Mark Tennyson conquered the city as CEO of Criterion Partners. A privately held, huge communication firm, Criterion had their fingers in everybody's pot. They did lobbying, public relations, advertising, and Mark had recently told me they were jumping into private equity.

He was so excited. He'd been pushing his board to leverage their clients into investing and spent years lining up the right opportunities and clients to match together. When I'd last seen Mark over a month ago he'd been celebrating, and although he whined about his CFO not being on board, it didn't seem to worry him. The board had finally voted with him to move forward.

Mark agreed to meet and talk about Dwyer at the Riverside Grille. As I got closer to the restaurant, a feeling of dread came over me.

I should never have believed Mark could straighten Dwyer out. Scott Dwyer had been in the platoon I was assigned to when I deployed to Afghanistan on my first tour. He was a weird guy, full of highs and lows. If he wasn't cracking jokes to the guys, he was brooding about something. Outside of sleep and food, between missions, that's all I can recall him doing. He always seemed upset about something, a girl back home, our lieutenant, insurgents. I thought it was odd, but assumed voicing it released stress; we all had coping mechanisms to keep ourselves from going crazy.

Dwyer was a crack shot, and practiced a lot, but turned down sniper school. Said he didn't think he was cut out to be on Overwatch, positioned away from the rest of the unit. After a few critical missions caught the eye of the brass, Dwyer and I were offered DELTA Force training and took it. The training was forty days and started with nineteen guys and one woman. After the first week, ten guys washed out. More dropped the program until it was just four: Caplan, Dwyer, me, and Missy Harlow.

Missy Harlow. Wow. I hadn't thought about her in almost ten years. She was the perfect woman if you liked a fifties pinup girl who swore like a sailor and could bench press over 150 pounds with the ability to rip your throat out before you could pull your gun.

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