Troubled Paradise (Gray Tower Book 2) Read online

  Troubled Paradise

  Gray Tower Series Book Two

  J. M. Brister

  Book Title Copyright © 2019 by J. M. Brister. All Rights Reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Cover designed by The Cover Collection

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  J. M. Brister

  Visit my website at http://jmbrister.blogspot.com

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing: June 2019

  Dedication

  To my friends recovering from recovery…

  Gray Tower Series

  Dark Prison

  Troubled Paradise

  Special Thanks

  To Michael and Katherine for sticking with me for so long.

  My extended family for encouraging me to keep going.

  My Twitter BFFs for the support you’ve given me all these months.

  Jack, Rygel, and Dixie for comforting me when I needed it.

  All the people who have read my first book. You guys rock!

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Interlude

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Author’s Note

  Prologue

  Six Years Ago

  Jack Hunter opened his eyes and groaned. His head pounded, and his mouth was dry. Nausea pushed up through his stomach as he tossed and turned in his bed, sweat covered sheets clinging to his body. He was all but naked accept for a pair of dirty boxers that gripped his sticky skin.

  It was early morning, and the sun was peeking through the curtains of his bedroom, shining in his eyes and aggravating his headache. He didn’t give a shit, though. His main goal was to find more booze. That’s all that mattered now.

  He rolled over and grabbed at his nightstand, trying to find the bottle that he had left there. Unfortunately, nothing was on it, so he continued searching for the bottle along the floor as far as he could reach without getting out of the bed. He doubted that he could sit up, let alone stand.

  There was still nothing.

  Jack cursed.

  He’d have to leave the bed if he wanted to get right. Attempting to roll out of the bed, he fought a wave of dizziness. He couldn’t stand right now, but he could crawl. He just needed to find enough booze to feel better. There should have been a few bottles of whiskey around in the immediate area, though that had been last night. He wasn’t sure what would be left this morning.

  Jack couldn’t remember anything about last night.

  He looked around the room on hands and knees, finding one empty and then another on the floor. His hands were shaking hard, and Jack knew that just a few sips of something would steady him enough to get up and moving again.

  The tremulous search continued with him checking under the bed and around the rest of the bedroom to no avail. There were bottles everywhere—everything from cheap whiskey to vodka to beer—but they were all empty.

  He finally got up enough strength to pick himself up off the floor and stumbled into the kitchen of his small apartment. More empties lined the counter. Some had slipped to the floor. One had broken, and there was glass splayed across the floor in one spot. He found a whiskey bottle that had a few drops in it, and he lunged for it, tipping the whole bottle upside down and attempting to drink a few drops of the burning liquid.

  Jack was disappointed to find that there was indeed only a dash of booze. It did nothing for the shakes, and now, he was pissed off even more. Realizing that those few drops were the last of his bender, he chucked the bottle hard into the sink, watching it crash into many pieces.

  He had thought that he had bought enough alcohol to last him a few weeks. Instead, it had lasted him a few days.

  This is fucking bullshit, he told himself as he debated on what to do.

  If he could get the shakes under control, he could go back out to the liquor store and stock back up. Perhaps a shower could shock that out of him?

  He found his way into the small bathroom that was in desperate need of a cleaning. The toilet was repulsive, and the shower didn’t look inviting. The mirror had spots all over it, and he wasn’t pleased at the reflection it displayed.

  The man who stared back at Jack looked lost. His medium brown hair had been growing like crazy as he hadn’t had it cut since he was discharged. He had a full beard going on, and it was severely unkempt at that. His blue eyes looked dim, and his face was hallowed and pale.

  Jack used to be a well-muscled, extremely fit guy. He had lost a bunch of weight from drinking around the clock, and he now looked gangly on his six-foot frame. The guy looking back at him was a stranger, one that he was going to do his best to ignore.

  He moved away from the mirror and turned on the water in the shower, staggering into the tub and slumping down on the floor.

  Time passed as he sat under the spray, trying desperately to feel right again. He sat there, feeling sorry for himself. Life had been good once, and he had thrown it all away.

  Jack had spent twelve years in the Army after a failed year in college. The last six years had been in the Special Forces, and he had loved every moment of it. He had enjoyed the comradery and the feeling that he was doing something important with his life. It had been a rewarding experience.

  That was, right up until the Army decided that they had had enough of Jack’s outside antics and discharged him before he could really do something stupid.

  He had always been a forced periodic drinker as he never drank before or during a mission. However, any time he was “off the clock,” he got sloshed. Unfortunately, when he had even a little bit of alcohol in his system, he got into trouble.

  A lot of trouble.

  After a string of ugly events, he had to give up the career that he had worked so hard to attain. No one just throws away a career in the Special Forces, yet Jack did. He had completely and utterly blown it. He had shamed and dishonored himself. He had shamed and dishonored the Army.

  And now, he was more lost than ever.

  The stakes had been so high, and he just could not stop drinking. Without any prospects of a career, he had no direction. He had holed himself up in his tiny apartment and had tried to drink himself into oblivion.

  Apparently, he wasn’t very good at it because here he was, trying to get himself under control. Of course, that was so he could go get more booze. What if he sobered up and attempted to do something different?

  The thought of spending his life in a church basement was so unappealing that he
’d rather end it all right here and now than go that route. So, where did that leave him?

  If he had failed in the Army, then he’d probably fail somewhere else too. He was certainly a dedicated worker when he could stay off the sauce. So, why couldn’t he stop drinking?

  That was the number one question.

  He figured that there was something deep down in him that wanted to blot out the world. Some of the shit he had seen in the Army certainly hadn’t helped, though it had only been the last few years in the Special Forces that had gotten particularly bad. What had it been about those years that had pushed him to drink?

  Jack slapped the tub with his hand and shook his head.

  What was the use? Even if he could get his act together, he had done too much damage to his family and to his career. Who would want some washed-up soldier?

  Jack stopped the shower and climbed out, heading back to bed. He didn’t even care if he was naked or still wet. Perhaps he could just sleep it off and figure it all out later?

  Plopping down in bed, he closed his eyes and slipped in and out of a troubled sleep.

  He wasn’t quite sure how long he had been asleep. When he opened his eyes, it was still light out, but something was beeping loudly. It was irritating his head, which was still pounding.

  Jack looked toward his nightstand to see his cellphone all lit up. He was getting an incoming call.

  He vaguely wondered who it could be as no one wanted to talk to him. Certainly no one from the Army wanted anything to do with him. His parents had had enough of him. He hadn’t hooked up with any woman lately as he’d been too drunk to do anything except for drink around his apartment.

  Jack was going to ignore it and go back to sleep, but something started to nag at him. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he just knew he needed to take that call.

  He grabbed at his cell and answered, “Hello,” in a hoarse voice.

  His throat felt raw from drinking so much straight liquor.

  “Is this Sergeant Jack Hunter?” Asked the male voice from the other end of the line.

  “Depends,” Jack mumbled. “Who is this?”

  “My name is Miles Bryant. I was told that I could get ahold of Sgt. Hunter from this number.”

  “Knock off the Army bullshit,” Jack said tersely. “They booted me out a few months ago.”

  “Yes, I know. That’s why I’m calling. I heard you could use some work. I want to offer you a job.”

  Jack let out a short laugh.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. Who put you up to this? Was it my dad? I’m not going to be someone’s charity case.”

  He almost ended the call when he heard this Bryant guy say, “Major Williams referred your name to me, and this job is not a charity case.”

  Jack paused at the name of his old CO. Major Williams had done everything he could to work with Jack on his drinking issues, though Jack hadn’t been able to keep it together. Apparently, Williams was still trying to help him even if Jack was now a civilian.

  “Oh, yeah?” Jack asked cautiously. “If Major Williams talked to you about me, then you know I come with problems. You’d best walk away. I’m a terrible investment.”

  “The major told me about your problems,” Bryant said. “He also told me that you’re a damned fine soldier, and he’d hate to see talent like you waste away.”

  Jack winced as he tried to sit up in bed. His hands were still shaking a bit but not quite as bad as before. His head, on the other hand, was taking on a life of its own. Pain shot down through his temples, and it took all that he had to remain focused.

  “What if I want to waste away?” Jack asked pointedly.

  “I highly doubt that,” Bryant said. “Look, Sgt. Hunter, if I could just explain…”

  “I said knock off the ‘Sergeant’ shit,” Jack snapped. “I told you they booted me.”

  “I know. I apologize, Mister Hunter. What if I told you that I owned a private military company, and I wanted you to come in and run the tactical side of operations?”

  Jack blinked.

  A private military company? Was this guy serious?

  “I would say that you were bullshitting me,” Jack replied dryly. “Because no one wants me to run jack shit right now. I’m a complete fuck-up.”

  “That’s not what you are, Mr. Hunter,” Bryant reassured him. “You’re a guy who’s made some past mistakes. The major told me that you were doing better for a while, and that the Army was looking for excuses to make cuts. You were coming up on twelve years in, and they weren’t sure if they wanted you for another twelve.”

  Jack pondered that.

  He hadn’t talked to Williams when he had been discharged, though it had been suggested through a few channels that his drinking had been a large factor in the decision.

  “That’s interesting, if true,” Jack said. “But I doubt I’ve held a sober breath since then.”

  “Because you have no purpose now,” Bryant cut in. “Let’s get you back on track. I’m not just offering you a job. I’m looking for someone who will take my vision for this company and make it something great. I know you were great once before in the Army, Mr. Hunter. You’re being given a second chance to do it again.”

  Jack shook his head incredulously. Was this guy for real?

  The idea of a second chance sounded good right now, but that also meant that Jack had another chance to screw up again. He wasn’t sure if he could handle another disgrace. However, if he didn’t try, he most likely wouldn’t get an opportunity like this again.

  “Mr. Hunter?” Bryant said, cutting the silence.

  Jack hadn’t realized that he had been lost in thought for so long.

  “Sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “This is just a lot to process. You’re actually serious about all of this?”

  “Dead serious.”

  Take the job. Take the job. Take the job, ran through his head as he tried to determine what he should do next.

  Jack supposed that he should give it a shot. He’d be no worse off if he tried and failed than his current situation right now. Or could he? Nothing made sense anymore. His brain felt fried. The best he could do was go with his gut instinct and take this Bryant guy up on the offer.

  “Okay,” Jack said with a sigh. “Well, I guess you’re the boss, so tell me what to do.”

  “I’m glad to hear it, Mr. Hunter. Now, I’d like to get you started immediately, but as you have told me, I don’t think that will be possible. We need to get you functional again. Will you be able to start in five days? Do you need to go to a detox?”

  “No.” Jack said firmly. “I can do this on my own, and I can definitely see you in five days.”

  He had gotten himself into this mess, and he was going to get himself out.

  “Wait. Where are you located?”

  “My main office is in Rockville, Maryland. I’ll get you the address. I heard you’re holed up in Michigan somewhere. I can get you transportation if you need it. Plus, I’ll have an apartment for you when you get here. Do you need it furnished or unfurnished?”

  Things were happening quickly.

  “Uh, damn,” Jack mumbled. “I’ll sleep out of my truck. Shit. I can’t afford an apartment outside of D.C.”

  “It’s paid for,” Bryant replied simply. “Plus, your salary will be generous. We can work that out when you get here. From what I’m hearing, we’ll just get you the furnished apartment. I’ll have it all taken care of before you arrive.”

  Jack sat there in disbelief. Was this guy for real?

  “You haven’t even met me,” Jack stated. “Why are you dumping all of these resources on some washed-up soldier?”

  “Don’t discount yourself, Mr. Hunter,” Bryant replied. “I’ve heard what you’re capable of when you’re on point from the major. I figure that I’m the one who’s getting the better end of the deal here. Now, stop trying to second guess yourself. We’ll go through a few details and have you out here soon.”

  After Jack go
t his HR information to Bryant, he spent the next few days detoxing from alcohol. It wasn’t pleasant, but by the time he had packed up the small number of items he wanted to take with him and head out on the road, he was at least functioning, though his brain still felt like it was in a fog.

  The long drive at least gave him some time to decompress. The potential for a new life kept him sober—at least for the moment. He had no idea what was in store, but he was going to give it a damned good shot.

  Chapter 1

  Present

  Jack Hunter sat in the back of a windowless van, intently watching a set of monitors. His teammate, Ryan Hale, sat next to him, tapping a finger absentmindedly on his knee. They both were watching and waiting for this mission to finish smoothly. There was a sense of unease as neither man was happy about completing this op.

  “I don’t like this,” Hale said, shaking his head.

  Hale had been a Marine in Force Recon before he had jumped ship to Gray Tower. Jack had been working with him for about two years now and had learned to listen to Hale’s intuitions.

  “I don’t either,” Jack told him. “But this was all Marshall’s idea. Take it up with him.”

  Gabriel Marshall was the other man on Jack’s team. He was about to go under deep cover for the next few months—if not longer—to investigate a criminal group called the Black Mark.

  They laundered money, ran guns, drugs, and whatever else they could get their hands on up and down the southeastern part of the United States. They were reportedly headed by a person nick-named Orion. No one could get a positive ID on the guy. Gabe had volunteered to infiltrate the organization an attempt to climb up to the top.

  It would be the first deep cover operation Gray Tower had ever done. They had never sent one agent in the field for so long by himself. However, if they could accomplish their goal and found Orion, there was a huge payoff at the end of the mission.