Jacked Up 3.
It never ceased to amaze Sam McBride how a little deviance would welcome a rebel into a crowd. After his attack on Warrant Officer Sullivan and the standoff at the car dealership, hardly a week had passed before Leon Drake's crew dropped a calling card at his door. Three meetings later, Sam was inside the largest domestic terrorist cell known to date. Their arrogance amazed McBride, so smug and confident that they were above the law, the blind loyalty in the layers of the organization and the swift justice to anyone that faltered in their belief. Even a simple conversation with any of the crew produced a slimly sensation that sickened Sam beyond belief.
Yet, Sam fed right into their little charade. In fact, he reveled in it. Hamming right up in the lead role in the play, he wormed his way closer to Drake every day. His sit reps and intel pleased those at the top as he manipulated it both ways. Truth to his duty, lies to his foe. Somedays Sam had difficulty keeping it all straight. It was only the nights that carved a hole in his soul.
He had broken protocol by trying to warn her a few nights before it happened. Don't let anyone take advantage of you, he had told her during an op in France. He had chuckled slyly as she informed him in no uncertain terms of her tales with DoD. In those few short moments at the bar that night, he learned her strengths, her weaknesses and her fears. And then, less than a week later, he used it all against her.
The disappointed look in her eye at the bar had yanked at his conscious. The annoyed tone and the abrasive attitude in the parking lot worked right into his ruse. He had expected her to fight as he pressed himself against her. Her aggressive response was nearly a turn-on for him and on another day, in another circumstance he may have even had her … converted her to like being with a man. That was not be, in fact, any chance of a friendship between them was irreplaceably damaged forever. Lost were the days of carefree banter. Sam suspected any conversation would be on professional terms now … if she was still there when he came back. Even though he held a silent torch for some understanding, he knew better than to believe. If he was on the outside looking in, he would have demanded it be that way. Maybe the team would be on his side, Bob said he was the new guy….maybe that would work into his favor. The bottom rung on a ladder that he so desperately wanted to climb.
Despite everything he knew about Jonas Blaine and the unit … His stretch to the first rung went a little too smoothly. He had expected to be hog-tied and shackled with his sexist, belligerent commentary in front of the TOP. Yet, the team just let it go, apparently shrugging it off as a last crusade of a drunken solider. On a sunny day in the park, he would have heeded the warning from Bob, but on that black night, the feeble attempt to warn a brother off was an accelerant to the smoldering flame. Oh how he wished he could have been a fly on the wall when Red Cap showed up at the briefing with her black eye. In the end, Alpha team's response was really all he needed to know. The team was out for blood and Sam McBride would be their causality. However cliché … all was fair in love and war.
TBC