Distressed: Enemy Of The State- Book 1 Read Free Page A

sleeves back down and buttoned the cuffs. He marched out of the office and through the warehouse.
    Tanned Egyptians worked alongside a small group of Americans that Perry recruited, all dripping the same sweat, all bleeding the same blood. Perry knew almost all of it would be spilt, and he’d gladly spill as much as necessary. “Sefkh!”
    The Egyptian turned around sheepishly and met Perry in the middle of the floor, the rest of the warehouse casting a watchful eye over their commanders. “Have you been in contact with the West Coast?”
    “The missions in Los Angeles and Seattle were successful, but we had an issue with San Francisco. We’re still waiting on the rest,” Sefkh answered.
    The terrorists working on their rifles and projects slowly stepped away as Perry glowered at Sefkh. “What happened?”
    “One of our men tripped an alarm at the factory. We didn’t have time to grab all of the supplies.”
    “Who?”
    Sefkh shifted his eyes to a young Egyptian, deconstructing and cleaning his rifle, then nodded.
    With the number of issues the operation had been running into, they were already behind schedule. While his position at Homeland afforded him high-level security clearance, all of it was rendered useless by incompetent hands. “Shift half of our men from the Midwest to California,” Perry said. “Funnel whatever weapons and resources we have left there. I do not want to lose our chance for this. Understand?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    Perry walked over to the young Egyptian, who was oblivious to Perry until he hovered right on top of him. He couldn’t have been older than nineteen, the spots still not fully faded from his hide. “Do you speak English?” The boy shook his head. Sefkh walked up behind the boy and rested his hands on his shoulders. “What is his name?” Perry asked.
    “Amarah,” Sefkh answered.
    Perry knelt down to one knee, so he and the young man were eye to eye. Amarah scooted back on the crate he sat on once the two were close. “Do you know your mission?”
    Amarah looked up to Sefkh, who translated in Arabic, then nodded. Only two pieces of the rifle remained unconnected. Perry picked both of them up and locked them into place. He pushed himself off his knee and aimed the rifle at the young man’s head. The rest of the warehouse fell silent, and Sefkh tried to step between them, but Perry ordered him back.
    Amarah held his hands in the air, his head on a swivel, looking between Sefkh and Perry. He mumbled in Arabic, the panic in his eyes growing. Perry took a step forward until the metal tip grazed the skin on Amarah’s forehead. “Are you willing to die for us, Amarah?”
    Sefkh translated, and Amarah nodded, but the shivers running through his body told Perry another story. Perry tilted his head to the side, his eyes paralyzing the boy. “Then would you care to tell me why our men didn’t get the necessary equipment needed to complete our mission? The mission that failed due to your stupidity?”
    Amarah screamed, waved his arms, and shouted to both Perry and Sefkh, who translated as fast as he could. “Enough!” Perry jammed the end of the barrel into Amarah’s head, putting an end to the rambling. “Get up.”
    Sefkh repeated the words, and a glimmer of wetness appeared in Amarah’s eyes as he rose. Perry kept the rifle at Amarah’s head the entire time. Each time the boy shook, Perry felt it vibrate through the rifle’s barrel. The rest of the men in the warehouse had gathered around, keeping their distance, and Perry felt their eyes on him. “Weakness is a disease.”
    Amarah shuddered and mumbled prayers, Sefkh no longer translating. Perry scraped the end of the barrel along Amarah’s skin down to his cheek, where he blocked a tear from falling. “It latches on to a host and drains it until it’s dead.” Perry’s words echoed through the warehouse and filled the silent void that had once been the clank of machinery. “And like all diseases, it must be cut