Internal Threat Read Free Page B

pass-through. Up ahead, he saw the green sweatshirt hunched over the handlebars, pedaling down an arc of sidewalk that would dump him back out on to the boardwalk.
    Matt pumped furiously, gaining distance. His lungs burned with the effort but suddenly, he was mere feet away from the man. The shooter looked back, stunned to see Matt so close and reached for his gun again.
    Matt knew this was his best chance.
    With one final burst of energy, he pushed the bike forward, released his hands and launched at his attacker. Slamming into him, he heard a satisfying skitter as the gun clattered to the pavement. The man yelped as the pair toppled hard on to the cement. He scrambled frantically as Matt pinned him down, trying futilely to land a solid punch to Matt’s head.
    Sirens whirred somewhere behind Matt, followed by two policemen appearing at his side. They yanked the bearded shooter out from under him, quickly clipping handcuffs on him.
    “How are the agents?” Matt asked.
    “They’ll make it,” one of the cops answered. Matt nodded his thanks. He turned around to see the teenage owner of the bike standing behind him.
    “Guess I owe you another two hundred dollars,” he said.
    “Don’t worry about it,” the stunned boy replied.
    “No way.” He withdrew his business card, handed it to him. “Call that number and tell them to cut you a check.”
    “You sure?”
    “You knew I was desperate, smelled a bigger sale and held out for more money.” He flashed a smile at the shocked kid. “That’s exactly what I would have done.”

Three
    D usk was spreading its way across the canyons of the Hollywood Hills when Matt pulled on to Sunset Boulevard. Night meant the arrival of the revelers and it looked like the festivities were starting early from what he could see. He shook his head at a tall boy with multiple silver piercings and black fingernail polish traversing the crosswalk, leading an iguana on a trailing leather leash. Sometimes, it took visions such as these to shock Matt back into the reality of his world. Miles were not the only thing that separated him from Fort Bragg, North Carolina.
    After the death of Katie, his world was reigned by sorrow and confusion. Emotions battered his soul and threatened to tear his mind apart. His sole salvation had been his son, Luke. After the memorial, a simple service in the chapel with Katie’s framed photo since her body had not been found, the tiny boy had taken Matt’s hand and squeezed.
    “Daddy,” he had said simply, his liquid eyes focused on Matt’s.
    At that moment, Matt realized that he would have to put away the dark depression that had engulfed him since Katie’s call. He had been shutting himself off from the one person that needed him most, the only thing that Katie herself had specifically requested to be looked after with her dying breaths.
    Matt squeezed back, noting the strength of the young boy’s grip. “I love you, buddy. We’re going to be fine.”
    He continued the day-to-day dreariness of his existence, shuffling papers and making calls in the base offices and then spending the nights with Luke. To keep his mind fresh, he kept tabs on the internal investigation examining the death of Katie and her unit. Having led previous supply missions in hostile territory himself, he soaked up as many of the facts as he could. As much as he tried to suppress the anger, each discovery brought a fresh wave of rage with it.
    Mistakes were made across the board.
    The second lieutenant, a young man named Wilson, who had ordered the supply run was fresh out of officer school with little field experience. He had apparently thought that the quickest way to get supplies from their base to the next one was a simple straight line. In war, however, nothing was ever a simple straight line. Had the man bothered to check reports from the previous week, he would have seen that the road he was sending Katie’s supply caravan on had been a hotbed of insurgent activity. All of