Chapter 163
[ 453 words ]
Chapter 163:
It wasn’t a normal cell phone ringtone. It was the heavy, black military-encrypted satellite phone resting on Jarrod’s nightstand. The alarm sounded like a siren warning of an incoming missile.
Jarrod’s eyes snapped open. There was zero grogginess. He moved with terrifying speed, launching his massive body off the mattress like a coiled spring.
He snatched the screaming phone off the table, hit the answer button, and immediately took long, rapid strides toward the hallway, trying to get the noise out of the bedroom.
But it was too late. The alarm had already shattered Caroline’s sleep.
She shot up in bed, gasping, rubbing her eyes. She watched Jarrod’s broad, retreating back disappear into the dark hallway.
Out in the hall, Jarrod pressed the cold plastic to his ear.
The voice of the Joint Special Operations Command director was grim and urgent. A rapid sequence of complex, classified alphanumeric codes poured through the speaker, signaling a catastrophic, tier-one national security crisis.
Jarrod’s facial muscles turned to stone. His eyes went dead.
𝘈d𝘥𝘪c𝗍𝗶𝘃𝗲 nо𝗏e𝗅𝘴 𝗈n 𝗴𝘢𝗹𝘯𝗈𝘃𝖾l𝗌.𝗰𝗼𝗆
“Copy that. Wheels up in thirty,” Jarrod barked into the phone.
He ended the call. He had to deploy immediately to a black site halfway across the world.
He turned and walked back into the bedroom. He reached out and snapped on the dim wall sconce.
Caroline was sitting up, clutching the blanket to her chest. She looked at his face and felt a cold chill run down her spine. The frustrated, possessive husband from ten minutes ago was gone. The man standing there was a ruthless, emotionless killer.
“What happened?” Caroline asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Jarrod didn’t look at her. He walked straight into the massive walk-in closet. He pulled down a heavy black tactical duffel bag and began shoving specialized gear inside with terrifying, mechanical efficiency.
“Emergency military deployment,” Jarrod stated. His voice was completely flat, devoid of any human warmth. “I am leaving now.”
Caroline watched his hands move. A sudden, hollow panic ripped through her chest.
An hour ago, they were fighting over the boundaries of a bed. Now he was packing to fly into a warzone where people died.
She opened her mouth. She wanted to ask him where he was going. She wanted to ask if people were shooting at him.
But she bit her tongue hard. She knew the rules of his world. Classified meant classified.
She sat in the bed, realizing that the invisible wall of his military duty was infinitely colder and more impenetrable than the physical gap between them on the mattress.
Jarrod finished packing the black duffel bag in under sixty seconds.
He stripped off his sweatpants and pulled on a set of all-black tactical combat pants and a matching long-sleeved combat shirt. There were no name tapes, no rank insignias, and no identifying markers of any kind.
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