Tin Soldier (Zade Book 3)

Chapter 1

Urban Dictionary

Tin Soldier:

A soldier without a

metaphorical heart;

a goon

***

~Casey~

I watch Jack kiss his new wife like he's gonna die tomorrow and I can't help but to smile. That's not something I do much or often, but when I see my brothers happy ... well, some things just can't be helped. Besides, I like that girl. She's got some serious spunk. Not too many people can boast of taking me by surprise, let alone putting me on the ground. Jack outdid himself with that one.

Turns out, I like her kid, too. He looks a lot like Reyna, and from what I've seen so far, he acts a lot like her too. I ought to feel sorry for Jack--he'll have his hands full with that fella later, I'll hazard to guess. But then, maybe that's just Karma gearing up to kick his ass for all the hell he's put us through.

I lift my drink to my lips and take a healthy pull from the bottle to stifle my laughter. As I move to go congratulate my baby brother, my phone stops me in my tracks. I've told everyone I know not to even consider calling me today, so whoever is doing so now had better be dying. If they're not, they might have that to worry about sooner than they'd imagined they would. I yank my phone from my pocket, hit accept on the screen, then press it to my ear.

"Zade. So help me God, somebody better be dead or--"

"Sir, it's Paxton. Hate to bust in on your party, but this is pretty damned important. It really couldn't wait."

"Damn."

I look up at Jack and Reyna then let out an angry breath. Of course it's important. Paxton wouldn't interrupt me otherwise. I move further from the festivities. Not that a phone call could put them in harms way, but I've always kept this type of shit as far from my family as I can. They have a few ideas about what it is that I do, but no one's very clear on my job description. Much the better for all concerned.

As I walk off to find a more private spot to talk, I try to keep my anger under wraps. This is no one's fault but mine. No one held a gun to my head and told me I had to enter this career path, the choice had been mine and mine alone.

BIA: Brothers In Arms

Sounded like some teen aged boy's fantasy game to me when I'd first heard of it, but I've since come to learn it's anything but a game ... unless by game you mean reconnaissance, rescue, and retribution. As a part of this team, I've been thoroughly schooled in the three R's, and they're a hell of a lot different than the ones I'd learned years ago. When I feel like I've gone far enough, I turn back to watch my family from a distance.

"What's the mission?" I ask, my question an irritated grumble.

"It's the Governor's kid."

"What about her?"

"She's missing."

"Fuck me." I let out an angry breath then run my hand roughly down my face.

This is a case I can't turn down. Our coffers are lined from the pockets of many a politician, and if we turn down even one we might find ourselves out of funds pretty damned quick. While they might fight amongst themselves on a daily basis, they'll band together against a cause outside public office. It would only take one to have them all pulling up stakes and moving their money elsewhere.