Free Retribution: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (Secrets & Lies Book 3) by Lauren Landish Page B

find yourself very appealing to certain groups. A lot of the Berets who leave the service end up working for these groups.”
    “You mean mercenary work.”
    Christman nods, cutting the bullshit. “They prefer the term private military contractor nowadays, but yeah. I won't stop you. You've got a lot of anger, and I think you probably want to get your measure of revenge. Just... make sure the people you're working for don't end up getting you targeted by our own. Mercs might be strong, but you don't want the CIA after your ass, okay?”
    The threat is clear, if unspoken. If I side with the wrong mercs, the CIA might be the ones spearheading the op, but I'd be taken down by Special Forces themselves. We clean up our own messes. “Understood, sir. Is that all?”
    “Pretty much. I'm reassigning you to my staff here until you actually clear post, you can discharge here or back at Campbell, whichever you prefer.”
    I think, then I shrug. “Might as well catch a free ride back to the States, sir. I'll come by and talk with the S-1 tomorrow, put in for my terminal leave. Where are you going to have me, by the way?”
    “Actually, my personal staff. For the next couple of weeks, until your orders come down from SOCOM, you're my driver. Now, since I happen to enjoy riding my bike to work, and my office is in the same building as the base, you can see how busy your work's going to be. Check in each morning with me at 0900, and if I've got anything, I'll tell you. If not... well, just try to make sure you stay out of the bars until after 1700, got it?”
    “Understood, sir.”
    “And can the sir shit unless we're around the pogues. The name's Bill, okay?”
    “Okay, Bill.”
    Colonel Christman nods, and sighs one last time. “All right, Nathan. Then pop some smoke, get back to your room, and I'll see you Monday morning.”
    I take the Colonel's advice and head off base, wanting to get as far from the military as I can without taking leave. I'm sitting in a sidewalk cafe on the Piazza dei Signori when I hear a voice behind me. “Nathan Black.”
    My coffee cup tumbles from my numb fingers to explode on the flagstones of the sidewalk as I turn, and a dead woman stands in front of me. “Aisha?”
    She looks just like Aisha, with waist-length black hair, the same dark green eyes and full, sensuous lips I used to kiss until both of us were bruised, lips that whispered words of love in my ear.
    But it can't be. I blink, and realize that as similar as she is to my Aisha, she's younger, maybe just out of college. They are so alike though they have to be related, and my heart stirs as she comes over and sits down with a sly smile, just like Aisha used to give me. “No, not Aisha. Aisha was my older sister. My name is Isis. Isis Bardot. And I have a proposal for you.”
    I shake my head, the memories slowly fading, my finger pulling back as I remember more about Isis. Beautiful, seductive, intelligent... and absolutely amoral. I turn off my phone after making sure that a copy of the message is at least in my phone, and leave the CVS, new urgency filling me. There's something nagging at me, and I know that before I open this message, I need to have Katrina take a look at it.
    I get back to the compound just after noon, the back of the truck filled with supplies. I bought another thirty gallons of gas for the generator, a saw to help with taking care of the firewood, but most importantly electric blankets for everyone. Instead of running the energy-hogging space heaters, we can now sleep warmly with only one-tenth of the energy usage. Finally, using a pay phone, I call my maintenance man to have him come out tomorrow to take care of the furnace. He's bringing out a whole new furnace instead of fucking around with repairs. I should have done it when I had him do renovations last year, but it'd been summer, and I hadn't thought about it then.
    When I get back to the compound, Jackson and Carson give me a wave from the chapel as they