Wednesday, June 8, 2016

Contract by James Purkey

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TITLE: Contract 
SERIES: Contract Series, Book 1
AUTHOR: James Purkey 
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Donald ‘The Blade’ Cody, a professional killer, has neglected his contract with The Company. A contract that is unbreakable and now he will be hunted for the rest of his life by the best to fulfill that contract. The Company picks the best because they need the best, and Jackson ‘The Bear’ Beck is the best hitter they have. He’s brought in to find and eliminate Cody and satisfy the obligation. Cody has many friends in The Company that owe him favors. He will use those favors to do anything to keep himself alive, even if it means destroying Beck from the inside out…through his family Beck will travel anywhere to find Cody and complete the contract and protect his family. Trekking around the world, through many twists, turns, revelations and heartbreak, they will clash in an endgame that only one can walk away from. EXCERPT 
The silence is what kills you. You know, that point while you're lying there on your belly, pronated, breathing, and the only thing that you hear is…you. In those two seconds it takes to line up the crosshairs on the center mass, check your wind, hear the words “send it” from my spotter, and pull the trigger. Yep, those two seconds of silence is more like a week. Control the breathing, control the heart rate, make sure you don't have a tickle in your throat, ignore the fact that you've got to pee and have needed to for the last three hours, then...squeeze that trigger. There are times I miss having that spotter, though.
When you hear that sharp crack, see the flash from the barrel and then, sometimes even the look of surprise on the Target’s face, then they collapse like a wet dishrag, it quickly brings you back to reality. It's time to move after the shot. Have to get your gear, and yourself, out of there, but not too quickly. Too much movement will give away your position. Not enough will get you caught only a few yards from where you started.
Methodical movement with purpose my instructor called it. How would the enemy take it if a bunch of weeds just jumped up and took off running? Not well it seems. They like to put as many bullet holes in those “running weeds” as they can.
But the days of the Target shooting back are over for the most part. When I joined and became a Marine, I took a battery of tests that showed that I had a high aptitude for retaining information, great eyesight, excellent hearing and something in my psyche that would allow me to...not care about the things I had done.
Something that would make me not regret anybody that I maimed or killed. I was then taken aside, trained differently after boot camp and loaned out to any number of agencies that may need some clandestine mission completed. I was trained to shoot, long-range, short-range and with anything from a sling-shot to a .50 caliber rifle. I was trained in close quarters combat, hand-to-hand, or knife or ink pen or shoe string, it didn't matter if it has an edge or a point I can use it to cut or stab. My fists, elbows, feet, knees, and shins were beaten and abused so much they became like iron. I was taught to use poisons, gases, and liquids, all to my advantage. 



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