The Diaries - 01 by Chuck Driskell Read Free Book Online Page A

Gage didn’t
recognize. He was tall and fit; Gage guessed his age as late forties or perhaps
fifty.
    The colonel sat on
a steel fifty-five gallon drum and twirled his green beret on his index finger.   “I’m going to talk to you about something
highly confidential, sergeant.   If you
ever utter an unauthorized word of it to anyone, I’ll ruin your life—or
worse—and that’s a promise.”
    To hear such a
blusterous threat would typically be amusing, but the look in the man’s blue
eyes demonstrated that he wasn’t kidding at all.   Gage nodded, still trying to determine what
might be so sensitive as to warrant his death if he ever spoke of it.
    “I command a
small, very select force of men from all branches of military service.   There’s only about thirty-five of us, and
we’re highly skilled at a number of unusual activities beneficial to the U.S.
and her allies.   Very few people know
about us, including President Clinton.”
    “Delta, sir, or
something like it?” Gage asked, referring to the 1 st Special Forces
Operational Detachment-Delta, commonly known as Delta Force.  
    “Not Delta, no…but
not too unlike Delta, Sergeant Schoenfeld .”   The colonel removed a tin of Copenhagen snuff
and slipped a pinch inside his lower gum.   Gage politely refused.   Hunter
took Gage’s sunflower seed cup and spit before continuing.   “Delta is an essential group, able to do all
kinds of things.”   He narrowed his
eyes.   “Public things that CNN and FOX
News know about.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “We can do all
those same things, and a few more, without the public ever knowing who it was.”
    “Like what, sir?”
    Hunter’s eyes smiled.   “Like blowing up a cocaine-laden ship off of
South America.   Like inserting silently
into Iran and vaporizing a few undesirables.   Like sometimes even neutralizing card-carrying American citizens when
they threaten our freedoms and our people.”
    Gage paused a
moment, feeling Hunter’s scrutiny of his reaction.   “I understand.”
    Hunter nodded,
seemingly pleased. “We recruit one or two or three men each year, using a
pretty complex process on how we choose our candidates.   There’s no additional schools or anything
like that.   You’ve already proven that
you can hack it and have the juice to get things done.   If you choose to come with us, the rest,
well, you’ll learn it along the way.   Hell, I guess you could say every day is a lesson.”   The colonel removed his jacket and laid it
over the drum.   He stood above Gage, the
late afternoon sun making his left side appear to be on fire.
    “Sergeant Schoenfeld , do you want to join our team?”
    Gage’s mind had
gone in ten different directions.   “Why
me, sir?”
    The colonel nodded
as if this was the expected question.   “Lost your family a few years back.   Tragedy like that is awful, but a soldier with absolutely no strings is
the first thing we look for.   Have to
have it, no exceptions.   No wife, no
kids, no dogs…nothing like that.   And
once you join us, well, as you might imagine, you’re vowing not to add any of
those things during your term.   And that
term’s ten years, son.   Ten long years.”   He spit into the cup and leaned against the block
wall.   “Still listening?”
    “Yes sir.”
    “The other
requirement is the physical and mental characteristics, which you’ve already
shown.   Phase-two cadre had you graded as
the toughest bastard in your class; commandant said you’d die silently before
you quit.”   He twisted his mouth.   “And you’ll have to die, in a sense, if you
want to come aboard with us.”   The
colonel shifted, lifting his head as he seemed to be recalling the dossier.   “The weapons school has got you pegged at
number two, and then you graded out in two tough languages at Monterrey with
marks of what would be cum laude at a damned good university.”   He pointed to Gage.   “I been through every file, son.