Noble Warrior Read Free Page B

climbed into a white government van and disappeared forever.
    He hadn’t turned around. He hadn’t said good-bye. He hadn’t explained the circumstances or anything. He just left—that abruptly, that unresolved, that icy and
heartless.
    Yet he knew it had to be that way. For Kaitlyn’s safety. So she didn’t get mixed up into any trouble with the Priests and they didn’t target her. But now that things had
settled and everyone was safe, McCutcheon hungered to see her again. He wanted to set the record straight, to fix what had been broken, to go see a movie, hold her hand, and then, like any other
red-blooded American boy, find a nice quiet place to cuddle up and go turn out the lights.
    M.D. knew that if he didn’t see Kaitlyn again soon he’d explode.
    Of course Agent ZERO X1 was trained to know better than to allow Kaitlyn to catch sight of him on these secret sojourns, but each time M.D. snuck away he felt more and more tempted to initiate
contact and reappear in her life like a long lost ghost.
    Their reunion, he imagined, would be like the final scenes of a great romance movie. Passionate. Filled with joy and happiness. And never again, once reunited, would McCutcheon ever let her go.
That was a promise he’d made to himself.
    His hunger to be with Kaitlyn turned the logical side of M.D.’s brain to mush. M.D. had come to learn, over long periods of isolation and deep stretches of loneliness, the heart wants what
the heart wants, and it rarely gives a shit what the mind has to say about it. Were these secretive trips to see Kaitlyn logical? Not at all. Were they essential? Absolutely, he felt.
    It was just like Demon said: “Love, it’ll fuck a fighter up.”
    Now that M.D. was about to deliver on his fifth successful mission he felt he deserved official permission from Stanzer to go meet up with Kaitlyn face-to-face. That was the deal. Or at least,
that was the deal as M.D. understood it to be, even though Stanzer had never agreed. Once McCutcheon bagged tonight’s target, however, he planned to cash in his chips and make rendezvousing
with Kaitlyn a reality. McCutcheon gazed down at the pools of blood forming around each of his two fallen opponents lying on the hookah bar’s floor, but he didn’t allow himself to feel
good about the victory. Taking pleasure from hurting people was what bullies and tyrants did. Martial artists who conducted themselves with honor sought to avoid conflict. To win without fighting,
as the ancient texts said, was the highest form of triumph, and McCutcheon knew if he started taking pleasure from violently devastating his adversaries it would open a vault of blackness that had
been buried deep inside of him.
    M.D. owned a dark side. And it scared him. It was as if he possessed an inner beast, one capable of very grim and savage deeds. He kept the creature shackled, hidden and locked away from the
rest of the world, but deep in his soul McCutcheon knew he had to contain this monster because if it got out, well…he feared no man, but as his skills advanced, M.D. had come to fear his own
capabilties.
    Being with Kaitlyn had always quieted the inner howls. But now Kaitlyn was gone.
    M.D. inhaled a long, slow, deep breath, centered himself, and resolved on the spot to return to his core principles. Ibrahim Ali Farah’s cyber commander Massir El-Alhou would come with
McCutcheon in the minivan, but his apprehension would be all business: no emotion, no pleasure, and no physical altercations if possible. If conflict could be avoided, M.D. vowed he would take the
path of not causing his enemy any harm. And if there was to be a battle, M.D. would only use the minimum amount of force necessary to properly execute his mission.
    “Don’t make me shoot you,” the Somalian warned from behind the counter.
    “Hand me the gun,” M.D. said.
    The North African looked at his bloodied friends lying motionless on the floor.
    “Stay back,” Massir said as McCutcheon moved to