The Recruiter (A Thriller) by Dani Amore Read Free Book Online

strong, handsome face.
    Where is he?
    The voices and the images recede into blackness but before she joins them, two words escape her mouth like rats from a sinking ship.
    “Who won?”

Sixteen
    Samuel stands outside the squat brick building, the palmetto leaves slapping lazily against one another in the warm breeze. He lets the sun shine on his face. Lets it warm him.
    His hotel room was cold last night, an adjustable thermostat that ignored any adjustment and simply blew cool air around the small, dingy room. He has been in many hotel rooms recently, always paying cash, always staying away from the chains and going to anonymous places on the outskirts of the cities and towns he drove through. The trip to Florida from San Diego was a slow one. Samuel was careful to follow the speed limit, not wanting any record of his trip logged in a cop’s paperwork.
    Now, the naval base at Pensacola, Florida was his new home. Where he would have to make due until his next chance for BUD/S training, eighteen months away. It was a long time, but he could do it.
    The Florida sun was hot, much stronger than southern California. In the week since he sent BUD/S instructor Nevens and his blond whore to the great boot camp in the sky, cold has always reminded Samuel of the water that night.
    Now, he pauses a moment longer, the sun’s heat intense on his face, his eyes shielded from the rays by sunglasses. Finally, when the warmth threatens to bring a line of sweat to his forehead, he turns and enters the building.
    •
    Commander Lowry’s office is on the second floor. Samuel climbs the stairs with neither anticipation nor dread. He is starting back at square one. The frustration, the depression, are gone. Because he isn’t really starting back at square one. Nevens is gone.
    The door is open and he walks in. On the walls, there are photos and illustrations of ships, but Samuel ignores them. He walks toward the metal desk directly in front of him and the woman sitting behind it. The secretary is a woman in her forties with a tired face and a pointy chin, which she uses to gesture Samuel toward the two shoddy chairs just outside the door to the CO’s office.
    Samuel takes the least flimsy chair and looks at the pile of magazines and newspapers on the cheap veneered table between the chairs. He skips the Sports Illustrated and the Men’s Health . Instead, he spies a newsletter published by the Navy, called All Hands .
    On the front page is a picture of deceased BUD/S Instructor Larry Nevens.
    Samuel’s heart shudders.
    He scans the story quickly. A brutal murder. Nevens was last seen with a woman, Rhonda McFarland, who is still missing. She looked like a Rhonda, Samuel thinks.
    There are no suspects in custody. A reward is offered for more information.
    Samuel reads on about Nevens’ background, noting there is no mention of what a cock-sucking prick he was. A small throbbing, a muffled thudding of pain builds in Samuel’s head. His hand goes above his right eye, and he rubs it while he reads.
    Finally, Samuel puts down the paper. He closes his eyes and slows his breathing.
    Suddenly, Samuel feels good. Confident.
    When he goes back to BUD/S training, he will be in better shape, mentally prepared for the ordeal ahead. But through it all, he will have one thing on his side.
    He will be the only recruit who has actually killed a Navy SEAL.
    A small smile appears on Samuel’s face.
    When he looks up, the secretary is watching him.
    “He’ll see you now.”

Seventeen
    “Afternoon, Commander,” Samuel says, standing at attention and saluting.
    “At ease,” Lowry says. Samuel drops his hand and relaxes his stance. He takes in Lowry, a thin man with narrow shoulders and a thin face hidden by giant aviator glasses. He looks like an insect, Samuel thinks. He imagines squashing Commander Lowry’s head. Sees the buggy eyes pop out of the man’s skull.
    But the eyes behind the lenses are intelligent and quick. Samuel instinctively senses