Read Trident's First Gleaming: A Special Operations Group Thriller for Free Online

husband was incarcerated. Many of the members had come to Chris and Reverend Luther for counseling regarding personal challenges. Some people have the misconception that only good people attend church, but churches are like hospitals—they are for the sick and afflicted, and in this world, everyone is sick and afflicted.
    A second woman, wearing a flowery rose-red dress, also complimented Chris on his sermon. She was a single mother struggling to raise her teenage son, Ben. Chris’s peripheral vision spotted Ben. Todd Koak, a middle-aged member of the congregation who never minded his own business, cornered the kid. On any given day, Ben was a little awkward, but now he seemed particularly uncomfortable. “Excuse me,” Chris interrupted Ben’s mother then walked to where the young man and Todd stood.
    “When are you going to talk to a recruiter?” Todd asked.
    “I don’t think I want to,” Ben replied
    “It’s your duty as an American to serve.” Todd spoke loudly with a voice full of pride and authority.
    “I think we’ve already done enough,” Chris said, patting the boy’s shoulder.
    Todd ignored Chris. “We have to—”
    “How many days did you serve in the military?” Chris interrupted.
    Todd took a step back. “I think you know.”
    “But does Ben know?”
    Todd was silent.
    “Todd, tell Ben how many days you served.”
    Todd looked at his watch. “I almost forgot. I have to go.” He lowered his head and wormed out the door.
    “How many days did he serve, Pastor Chris?”
    Chris held up his hand and gestured: zero .
    “I want to go to college,” Ben said.
    “You’ll be a kick,” Chris said, stopping himself before he uttered a word that wasn’t very pastoral. “You’ll be a kick-butt college student.” Chris gave him a friendly fist bump that brightened Ben’s countenance as if he’d just found a hundred-dollar bill. It seemed Ben hadn’t experienced much of that type of male camaraderie, so Chris made a mental note of engaging Ben like that more often.
    After most of the congregation cleared out, Hannah strolled over to Chris. Her smile radiated like a supernova. “I thought it was some kind of sick joke until now. You really did become a preacher, didn’t you?”
    Chris basked in her warmth. “Long time, no see.”
    “Doesn’t seem like so long ago.” Then she whispered, “You can’t really enjoy being with these people.”
    “I’m happier than I’ve been in years.”
    “I can see they aren’t too into reality, a lot of them are overweight, and they waste what little money they have in that wicker basket that was passed around.”
    “They’re trying to do the right thing,” Chris explained, trying not to let her get under his skin.
    “The right thing won’t get done by sitting here.”
    “You’re welcome to come more often—see what it is we do here.”
    “I expected better from you,” she said. “Not this.”
    Chris narrowed his eyes at her. “You didn’t come all the way out here just to insult my congregation, did you?”
    “Motorcycle bomb in Pakistan,” she began, “shooting in Iraq, car bomb in Syria, IED in Afghanistan, suicide bombing in India, ambush in Somalia—take your pick. In case you’ve forgotten, the terrorists are still at war with us.”
    “But you didn’t come all the way out here to tell me that.”
    “Of course not.”
    Chris understood. “You can’t give me details until I agree to sign on the dotted line.”
    “Same old, same old.”
    “Why me? Why now?”
    “Uncle Sam is cutting back on personnel, and too many missions have spread us too thin.”
    “So why me?” he persisted.
    “You know Syria better than most, your Arabic is native-like, you have a knack for solving problems like no one I’ve ever seen, and you shoot like the Devil. Your skills at demolitions are second to none. I’d have to recruit at least two men to come close to doing what you do, but I can only recruit one.”
    Chris still found it