Trident's First Gleaming: A Special Operations Group Thriller by Stephen Templin Read Free Book Online Page A

Operations Group (SOG), which conducted high-threat military and intelligence operations that the US government might deny knowledge of, such as when SEAL Team Six had raided bin Laden’s headquarters. SOG also utilized Army Delta Force operators and others. When Chris and his teammates had rescued Young, they’d been working with Hannah under SOG.
    It was a world in which Chris had once been comfortable, but now he experienced reverse culture shock. He’d expected becoming a pastor was going to be different—attending religious classes at Harvard, praying often, reading the Bible daily, attending frequent church meetings, maintaining high moral standards, and so on—so he’d experienced little shock in the transition from SEAL to pastor. He hadn’t expected returning to the world of black ops would feel like a new experience, but he felt like an alien landing on a new planet. Even the pace of walking was faster than he remembered. He increased his speed to keep up with Hannah. They reached a room with an armed guard posted at the door. Hannah showed the guard her ID, and he opened the door for her.
    Inside was a conference room with a feast laid out on the table. A slightly overweight man in his fifties wearing a suit jacket, slacks, and cowboy boots greeted Chris. “Howdy, Chris. Welcome to the family.” His fatherly voice rose and fell with a slow sweetness like molasses. “I’m Jim Bob Louve.”
    Chris held out his hand to shake Jim Bob’s, but Jim Bob hugged him instead. The overabundance of affection caught Chris off guard.
    “Thought you might be famished, and since I was having a late lunch,” Jim Bob said, “well, please, sit down and join me.”
    Chris thanked him and took a seat at the table with Hannah. Another man already sat across from them looking at papers in a file.
    Jim Bob seated himself at the head of the table. “Help yourself,” he said.
    The other man continued to look at his papers rather than grab some lunch, but Jim Bob and Hannah reached for plates. Chris put fried chicken, cornbread, coleslaw, black-eyed peas, and fried okra on his—southern cooking was one of his favorites. He waited for Jim Bob to eat first.
    “Don’t be shy, dig in,” Jim Bob said. “Oh, I almost forgot. Where are my manners? Chris, this is Victor.” His hand gestured toward the quiet man, who glanced up from his papers. Victor had that thousand-yard stare like so many combat veterans Chris had known. “Victor was a case officer like me. Until we made the switch to SOG.”
    Chris nodded.
    “You worked for SEAL Team Six in Iraq, didn’t you?” Victor asked.
    “I’m not aware of any such unit,” Chris replied. Maybe SEAL Team Six was public knowledge now and had a history of working with the Agency, but Chris wasn’t used to casually discussing such things with strangers, and Victor was already rubbing Chris’s rhubarb. Maybe he was testing Chris to see if he had loose lips.
    “Oh, right,” Victor said. “But you were part of Task Force 88, Operation Snake Eyes?”
    “I can neither confirm nor deny such a task force or operation.”
    “On 12 September 2009, you killed a number of Syrian insurgents while rescuing a kidnapped CIA technician named Young Park.”
    Chris felt even more uncomfortable, but he said nothing.
    Victor leaned forward in his chair. “That mission cost you your right ear, and now you wear a prosthetic.”
    Now Chris was pissed at having his personal history laid out so casually, but he hid his irritation out of respect for Hannah and Jim Bob—and because he didn’t want the others to think someone could get him riled so quickly. “Piercing and tattoos are so yesterday,” Chris said with a grin. He chewed a hunk of warm chicken breast. It tasted almost as good as home cooked.
    Jim Bob chuckled. “Now Victor, you should show Chris more hospitality than that,” he said in that fatherly tone.
    “Yes, sir,” Victor said, straightening in his chair.
    “This chicken