Free Double Cross (Hard Target Book 1) by Silver James Page B

the damn truth.
    “Oh? Could have fooled me.”
    “Dammit, Mother. I didn’t come in here for this crap.”
    “Then get your ass off my barstool and get the hell out, Duke.”
    “I’m fucking blind, Mother.”
    “Yeah, and?” There was no pity in the relentless woman’s tone. “Bear, get your butt over here. This whiny-ass SEAL needs an escort to the door.”
    The big bartender clapped his hand on Duke’s shoulder, but he shook it off. Raising his head, Duke turned in the direction of Mother’s voice. “Did I piss in your Wheaties or something? I’m not a SEAL anymore. The Navy gets all twisted up when their snipers can’t see their fucking target.”
    “Yeah, and? Getting damn tired of repeating myself so you better listen to me, Duke Reagan. You can sit there like some crippled, bitter piece of shit, or you can stiffen your spine and do what it takes to get your life back.”
    “What part of what I just said did you not understand, old woman? Blind. Sniper. Not a SEAL.” His words dropped into a well of silence as the jukebox picked that moment to stop playing music. Thank God it was early afternoon and if there were any customers, they wouldn’t be paying attention. Maybe.
    Glass clinked on glass, liquid glugged, and clothes rustled. He heard Mother swallow. “Drink your scotch, Duke.”
    “Still not what I’m drinkin’.”
    Someone fired up the jukebox and Toby Keith’s “I Love This Bar” blared from the speakers. Duke used to love this bar. At the moment, the idea of trashing it sounded like a good plan.
    Mother scooted her stool closer and leaned against his shoulder so she could speak into his ear. “If you could get your eyesight back, what would you do?”
    What the fuck? He jerked away from her. “Not possible.”
    “Wanna bet?”
    “Every gawddamn doctor in Brooke Med Center, Walter Reed, and you name the Naval hospital in between all say the same thing. I’m fucked.”
    “Huh.”
    “You don’t sound impressed.”
    “I’m not. Excuses. That’s all you’ve got. Plus, I know things you don’t, Duke.” Mother leaned on the bar, and he could feel the heat from her skin as she whispered in his ear. “Did you ever wonder about that last mission?”
    He stiffened but schooled his expression, saying nothing.
    “Yeah. Thought you might be curious. You need to see my doctor. And when you have your sight back, I want you back here. Your job ain’t over, Duke, not by a long shot. You’re in pitiful shape. Better than when you got out of the hospital, but you’ve got a long way to go. First things first. Eyes. The rest will come after that.”
    He heard her fingers tapping on the bar, and her silence stretched his patience to the breaking point. Still, he waited, despite the thudding of his heart. Was she thinking of hiring him to work the bar? What else could she mean? He kept his mouth shut. If he’d learned nothing else about Mother, it was she did things in her own way and in her own time.
    “What if I told you the Tank and Cali Boy were still alive?”
    “Bullshit. They died. I got the call. Fuckin’ Navy separated them. Different assignments. Both missions went south. They shouldn’t have been apart. We’ve been together since—” He bit off the explanation. Only a select few knew about the labs under Area 51 in Nevada, knew about the genetic and surgical enhancements made to the original members of Atlantis. He was the lone survivor. “Navy left ’em hanging with nobody to cover their sixes. They weren’t even assigned to SEAL teams.”
    “So you were told.” Mother’s quiet voice dropped into his boiling pool of angry frustration.
    “What the hell does that mean?”
    “It means they’re alive. It means they’re working for me.”
    Duke sat in stunned silence.
    “Working for you? Here at the bar?”
    “Not exactly. I’ll brief you soon, Duke, once I hear back from the doc. Just believe me when I say I have a place for a man with your… talents .” She