Code Name: Rook (Jameson Force Security #6) - Sawyer Bennett Page 0,36

tactical seminar.”

Jackson nods. “That’s right. Sounds fun.”

I note the sidearm Jackson has in a shoulder holster. “You heading to the firing range?”

“Just got back,” he says.

“Nice piece,” I compliment, nodding at his Walther P99. “Very James Bondish.”

“Not my preferred gun,” he replies. “I normally carry a CZ 75.”

“Czech gun, right?”

Jackson nods.

“I’ll stick with my Sig.”

“Love my Sig, too.” He laughs. It’s typically what we carried as Navy SEALs. “You miss it?”

Meaning the Navy.

Our SEAL brothers.

Sacrificing everything for our country.

I think about it for a long moment. I’ve been out for almost three years, and I’m in a far different position today. I’m three years older and wiser, too.

But I do admit, “Sometimes. I miss the brotherhood most.”

“It’s not the same here,” Jackson says, an acknowledgment of what I just said about camaraderie.

“I think it could be, though.” I think back to how diligent we were as an organization in tracking down Malik and rescuing him. We never served a day together in the military—he was in the Marine Corps—but I feel as close to him as some of my Navy SEAL teammates. “We’ll eventually have experiences that will bond us tighter.”

“And I am more than ready for one of those types of missions,” Jackson replies almost wistfully. Those are the words of an adrenaline junkie, and I recognize it so clearly because I’m the same way.

I point a cautioning finger at him. “Just remember… not all the work here is exciting like what we did in the Navy.”

“Boy, don’t I know that.” He chuckles with a roll of his eyes. “I had to babysit Bebe’s kid and mom a couple of months ago.”

He’s referencing when we found out someone had a hit placed on her, and her mom and son were moved out to a safe house in California. Jackson and Ladd were our two agents sent to protect them.

“Got to take the slow and easy with the blood pumping assignments,” I point out.

“And I’m more than happy to do so, just as long as I get my fair share of blood pumping ones.”

I also understand that.

He has me curious though about something he just asked me. “What about you? You miss the Navy?”

“Sometimes,” he replies without thought. “Believe it or not, it’s the order and how regimented things were that I miss. Having rules provides security. Makes things easier.”

It’s a fair point, but the longer I’m out, the more I don’t miss all that structure. I suppose he’ll get there too.

“So, what made you go in?” I ask, because I don’t have anything better to do at this moment other than to ponder Jaime’s immature brother. Besides that… I like to get to know the men I might end up in a combat situation with. The trust has to be built, and we don’t have the luxury of time to do that the way we did when we completed BUDs with our SEAL teammates.

“I’m third generation,” Jackson replies, almost as if he’s embarrassed about it. “Grandfather and father both Navy, so there wasn’t really any other choice for me.”

“They expected you to?”

“Yeah… but I mean, I wanted to. They didn’t force me. I was glad to enlist, but I just never really explored other options.”

That’s a lot of pressure to live up to that type of legacy, and something immediately strikes me.

“Assume they retired from the Navy?” I ask, but I don’t wait for an answer. “How did they feel about you getting out and coming to work in the private sector?”

Jackon’s expression darkens, his jaw clenched slightly. “They weren’t happy at all. Took it as a betrayal of my country.”

I whistle low through my teeth. “That’s kind of harsh.”

“They don’t realize I’m still serving my country. As much as I’ve tried to explain what Jameson does, it’s not good enough to live up to the Gale family name. Now the best they can hope for is I get married, my wife pops out a son, and they can groom him for a career in the Navy.”

“Dude,” I commiserate. “That just blows.”

“It is what it is,” he replies with a shrug as he pushes up out of his chair, indicating the conversation is over. But before he leaves, he nods at my desk. “Anything you need help with since you’re leaving tomorrow?”

Most of my work is in order. After any mission, there’s a lot of debriefing and reports. In between missions, there’s a lot of training, studying, and working out. I almost shake my head and thank him for

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