Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Julian

Edward and Daniel Sterling are two men you don't want to mess with. It's hard to believe the stories of my uncle and father's youth are true. My grandmother used to tell us Uncle Dan and Dad used to love joking around and playing pranks on their parents.

I think that's where Kent got his playful side, so at least there is hope he will grow up and become as serious as my father.

I was surprised when Mick and my new escort brought me to my dad's home, a ranch just outside Fort Worth. I thought I'd be taken to a government building. Instead, Gloria, the house manager of the ranch, welcomed me with a huge smile and a prolonged hug before she led us to Dad's office. My dad and uncle stood with their backs to the door as they looked out over the expanse of the ranch, none of which could be seen at night.

Stern faces and cold exteriors, both dressed in suits that perfectly fit their bodies. Their once-black hair is grayer now but still thick. Behind those hardened masks are two hearts that love fiercely but refuse to show it.

My dad changed drastically after Mom died. He's distant and no longer praises us but criticizes. He stopped our annual holiday gathering and instead likes to go on vacations alone. In fact, Dad likes to spend most of his time alone. The first few years after Mom's death, we thought it would pass; we all hoped one day, Dad would join us over Christmas.

That day never came. Theo, Kent, and I have lost hope now.

"Dad," I greet them, "Uncle Dan." I glance over my shoulder at Mick, but he nods at me and closes the office door.

"What's going on?"

Uncle Dan strides forward with a wide grin and arms open wide. I hug him as best I can with my arm still in the sling.

"Hey, son," he breathes a hello in my ear. He pulls away and gently pats my shoulder. "Come have a seat." He gestures, pulling out the chair for me as if I were still a small child who needed help.

I follow him to my dad's desk and sit.

"Dad," I nod a hello. Why can't you hug me like you used to?

He nods back and sits in the huge leather chair behind his desk. The leather is cracked and aged now. His fingers drum against the arm of the chair as his eyes go distant, looking at the aged rivets.

Mom bought him that chair for his fortieth birthday. I remember the day clearly; she drove Theo, Kent, and me to an old antique shop. It took all four of us to get the chair into the back of the truck. Once we got home, the chair was so wide we couldn't fit it through the office door. Theo and I convinced Mom we could get it through the window. We always wanted to make Mom happy. We kept tinkering to get that huge chair to fit; eventually, we did; we just hit the window, which broke the entire back wall of windows.

Dad came home to his new chair; he also got an open-air office for the next few days until the windows could be replaced.

"You gonna tell me why I have CIA and CID covering me."

"Who was the girl?" Uncle Dan asks. He's not smiling, but his eyes are.

Uncle Dan is like Kent; he was a player until his latest job position. Being the head of the CIA means you can't fuck around so freely. Anyone and everyone could be out to get you.

Uncle Dan never married, but he's got two daughters from a lady he dated for five years. We all hoped he'd marry her, but he's just not the marrying type. Nonetheless, I love my cousins and wish they lived closer.

"You have babysitters on me." I retort. When your uncle is the head of the CIA, you can get away with nothing. Not even a last-minute drinks date with your new neighbor.

"Always." He deadpans as he sits next to me.

"Let's get down to business." Dad offers.

I glance over and see his face etched with more stress than usual.

Uncle Dan clears his throat, "Four weeks ago, a package was sent to your father at the Arlington office. Unfortunately, it got set aside and forgotten about until the other day when a second package that looked the same arrived as well. Your dad got into town and opened it and found this along with a note inside." Uncle Dan reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out an evidence bag. He dumps out a bullet along with a handwritten note and hands it to me.

I read the note out loud: "Mr. Sterling, you don't know me, but I know you. You're going to give me what I need. Hesitate, and I'll take something precious from you."

My blood is pumping. Like my uncle and father, I don't take threats kindly.

My eyes glance at my arm in the sling. I'm not at my best; I can't do what I want to be able to do to protect my father.

Uncle Dan sets the bullet that came with the message on the desk.

"I won't let anything happen to you, Dad," I tell him.

"It's a father's job to protect his children." Dad bites with anger.

I lean forward, "And it's a son's job to protect his father." Is he mad at me? It sure seems like it.

"Look at the bullet, Jules," Uncle Dan orders me.

I reach for it with my left hand. It's an Open Tip Match (OTM), specialized ammunition designed for unparalleled precision. The open tip, or hollow point, enhances the bullet's stability during flight, making it the sniper's choice for achieving pinpoint accuracy even over extreme distances. These are not just ordinary bullets; they are engineered for the delicate dance between the marksman's skill and the unforgiving laws of physics.

My index finger brushes over a textured edge that shouldn't be there. My eyes narrow when I realize a name is engraved on the bullet.

"Julian." I read my name carved into the bullet; my eyes snap up to meet my dad's. "The bullet is meant for me."

"Itwas meant for you," Uncle Dan corrects me. "A second package came this week." He pulls out a second letter, opens it, and hands it to me to read.

"It's going to be so simple for you to give me what I want, just as easy as it would be for me to hit his heart next time."

My heart jumps into my throat as my blood boils.

"It was targeted. The shooting on the base wasn't an accident." I voice.

"That's why I'm involved. This is now a joint investigation with the CIA and CID. However, I'll be leading the team now. Had the first package been opened the day it arrived, we could have avoided your injury." Uncle Dan comments, his eyes looking at my injured shoulder as he grinds his jaw. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," I reply.

I glance at my dad. His face says it all. He thinks this is his fault. "It's not anyone's fault," I stress.

"We'll get it sorted," Dad mutters.

"It's not your fault, Dad."

Silence.

"Who sent it, and what do they want?"

"The second package included a flash drive with instructions on how to upload the schematics to a server located in northern Russia. They want the design of the M17 Missile." Uncle Dan says.

"That's our latest. It's just entered production and is classified." I remark. Since my injury, I've studied all the products and contracts Sterling Defense is currently engaged with. Much to my father's disbelief in me, I will put just as much effort into being a successful CEO as I did in Delta Force.

"We have a mole," Dad says.

"Had a mole." Uncle Dan corrects as he looks at his watch, "My men picked him up four hours ago. One of the engineers was in debt and accepted an offer to spy. He tried to place spyware on our system, but we caught it. We connected him to this threat, and he's currently being interrogated. It's only a matter of days before we connect all the dots. I will catch who is behind this; however, you'll be under my watch in the meantime. All your rehabilitation will be done at the gym or in the office. Sterling Defense headquarters is more secure than some black sites; your secretary needs to send me your current schedule so I can clear all the locations." Uncle Dan leans forward, elbows on his thighs, "I know you just got home and probably want to run the town wild with Kent, but I need you to relax and go from work to your house until we get this covered."

Wear a suit and live in a cage. Sounds like the perfect start to my new life.

"That's fine," I grunt.

"I know you can usually handle yourself, but I don't want you to do anything stupid in your current position. Rest that shoulder and get better. We're keeping this all under wraps; I don't want the media getting wind of this for our sake and your dad's. This would put some of the bigger contracts at risk."

"What about Kent and Theo?"

"They will also have protection, and I'll give Kent a stern talk about his antics. Theo rarely leaves his office," Uncle Dan snorts, "He is the easier of you boys to watch."

"I want to be in the loop. I want to know everything as you get it," I stress.

"I'll keep you updated," Uncle Dan nods and stands. "I'll give you both a minute," he adds as he grabs the knob and turns to leave.

An awkward silence fills the room, a sensation that never appeared when Mom was alive.

"I had a last-minute schedule change that delayed my trip to the Arlington office. If I hadn't attended that last-minute meeting, I would have gotten the first package on time." Dad admits. His guilt is evident.

He licks his lips. "I know I've been hard on you boys since your mom passed."

My throat feels thick, and I sense my defenses rising.

"I just wanted to make sure you'd all be tough. I needed to know that if anything happened to you, I did the best I could to ensure you would have every tool available to survive."

"Dad," I voice, "Sometimes events are just accidents."

He raises his chin, "Your shoulder wasn't an accident."

"It's not your fault mom got cancer, and neither is what happened to me. Periodically you just get hit with shitty cards. The problem is you continue to keep playing, Dad. Stop worrying about the future and focus on the present. You're so cold and distant; you only show us love when something happens to us. Theo, Kent, and I are still alive and want to spend time with you. It's you who keeps pushing us away."

"I was making you into men."

"Even the strongest man needs a crutch sometimes. You used to be mine. We're trying to be yours, but you keep swatting us away. We wanted to be there for you after mom, fuck we wanted you to be with us. You left," I've been waiting for this conversation to happen for years. I never imagined it would happen now.

"I was grieving." He snaps. His fist curls into the arm of the chair.

"So were we. Kent was young. He needed you." I needed you. "You sent us away to a boarding school."

"I kept you all together."

"We were missing the most important person in our life." I stand. "You."