him, gave him an instant hard on, often at the office. He was fortunate to have his own executive suite, for it would have been obvious to his employees the state he frequently found himself in. He had thought retrieving the money, being able to focus his energy and thoughts on slow revenge against Marc Chambers, would have kept him more than satisfied, and yet she had come to him in his dreams, and the images of their sex in the cold light of day transported him straight back to the room in which their encounters had taken place.
He remembered every detail. The way in which his body responded to hers, the carnal ferocity with which he responded, astonished him. He had never behaved like that before, and she had seemed to feed off of it, driving him further. Without it now, he had no other outlet in which to feel that intensity, to render it void by replacement; he had no other form of deliverance.
His mood had become harsher, hardened by the knowledge that he could not have her, that theirs had been a relationship that had had to end; that it was an impossibility. It was not something he could do. He was not able. The demons inside of him would only destroy it, destroy them.
In that instant he resolved to go on the trip one of his team were making to Somalia, departing that evening. A Black Operation to extract a known terrorist. He needed purpose, focus, distraction and normality, and for him this was it. He disliked anything but total control in his life, control over his emotions. Order and uniformity.
His company performed black ops, strictly non-legitimate rendition of terrorists that, though paid for by the Government, were unaccountable and deniable by those who sanctioned them. Damien looked beyond politicians covering their asses and believed in the purpose of protecting citizens from mass murder. He believed it was a noble cause for which many of his fellow soldiers had died, and for which millions of civilians’ lives were made safer.
Chapter Nine
Tara looked at the bedside alarm clock again; it was 2.46 am and she couldn’t sleep. She sat up in bed and grabbed her cell phone, tears threatening to come. She typed in the words.
“ Meet me in the room, tonight .”
She sent the text and lay back down, wishing texts could be retrieved before the recipient received them, her face hot with embarrassment at what she had just done. She had done it with full intent, but now she felt humiliated by admitting her need for him when he was clearly showing no interest, and she felt mortified at the thought of him being woken by the text at this hour. She fervently hoped his phone was on silent.
She switched on her bedside radio, tuning it into a late night talk show hoping it would distract her thoughts.
The noise inside the military aircraft made any conversation impossible as they sat on the benches of the carrier, nothing like the more comfortable seats found in a commercial passenger airplane. But they weren’t along for the comfort. He was taking a lead on this one, and had briefed the men as to the plans prior to embarking. As each man sat with their private thoughts, Damien was focused fully on their objective, running through scenarios of how it would pan out as he read the intelligence reports, and formulating contingency plans that they may need to ensure the operations was successful.
Finally satisfied that he had covered every angle, he transcended into a state of mind close to meditativeness; no distractions, no thoughts, just a calmness. At times like this he could sleep easily; he had learned a long time ago that getting rest when he could was a vital skill to be developed in combat, for you never knew when you would get the next opportunity.
When Tara awoke, she checked her phone immediately, remembering her embarrassment from the night before and expecting a possibly curt reply about the time of her message, but there was no reply from him. Devastated, with tears running down her
He remembered every detail. The way in which his body responded to hers, the carnal ferocity with which he responded, astonished him. He had never behaved like that before, and she had seemed to feed off of it, driving him further. Without it now, he had no other outlet in which to feel that intensity, to render it void by replacement; he had no other form of deliverance.
His mood had become harsher, hardened by the knowledge that he could not have her, that theirs had been a relationship that had had to end; that it was an impossibility. It was not something he could do. He was not able. The demons inside of him would only destroy it, destroy them.
In that instant he resolved to go on the trip one of his team were making to Somalia, departing that evening. A Black Operation to extract a known terrorist. He needed purpose, focus, distraction and normality, and for him this was it. He disliked anything but total control in his life, control over his emotions. Order and uniformity.
His company performed black ops, strictly non-legitimate rendition of terrorists that, though paid for by the Government, were unaccountable and deniable by those who sanctioned them. Damien looked beyond politicians covering their asses and believed in the purpose of protecting citizens from mass murder. He believed it was a noble cause for which many of his fellow soldiers had died, and for which millions of civilians’ lives were made safer.
Chapter Nine
Tara looked at the bedside alarm clock again; it was 2.46 am and she couldn’t sleep. She sat up in bed and grabbed her cell phone, tears threatening to come. She typed in the words.
“ Meet me in the room, tonight .”
She sent the text and lay back down, wishing texts could be retrieved before the recipient received them, her face hot with embarrassment at what she had just done. She had done it with full intent, but now she felt humiliated by admitting her need for him when he was clearly showing no interest, and she felt mortified at the thought of him being woken by the text at this hour. She fervently hoped his phone was on silent.
She switched on her bedside radio, tuning it into a late night talk show hoping it would distract her thoughts.
The noise inside the military aircraft made any conversation impossible as they sat on the benches of the carrier, nothing like the more comfortable seats found in a commercial passenger airplane. But they weren’t along for the comfort. He was taking a lead on this one, and had briefed the men as to the plans prior to embarking. As each man sat with their private thoughts, Damien was focused fully on their objective, running through scenarios of how it would pan out as he read the intelligence reports, and formulating contingency plans that they may need to ensure the operations was successful.
Finally satisfied that he had covered every angle, he transcended into a state of mind close to meditativeness; no distractions, no thoughts, just a calmness. At times like this he could sleep easily; he had learned a long time ago that getting rest when he could was a vital skill to be developed in combat, for you never knew when you would get the next opportunity.
When Tara awoke, she checked her phone immediately, remembering her embarrassment from the night before and expecting a possibly curt reply about the time of her message, but there was no reply from him. Devastated, with tears running down her
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