Nameless Man

Jake Ramsey is on the cusp of finishing his training. In a few short years, he has already experienced more sorrow than most people see in a lifetime and he can't wait to get out into the real world to start making a difference. After quickly breaking into an office space, Jake begins the laborious task of cutting into a safe. Just as he gains access, a man appears behind him with a gun pointed in his direction. Jake cannot decide if the man is part of the training exercise or an outside party interfering with his mission. When it becomes apparent that the man is after the same thing as him, Jake decides to play for keeps. This standalone Jake Ramsey short story occurs before the events in Black Brick. If you enjoy thrillers with twists and turns, this short story is for you. Pick up your copy today! Sneak PeekMy first instinct was to reach for my own gun, but it was too late for that. Sweat crept into my eyes, and I blinked it back. I'd never before had somebody point a gun at me except in training. I tried to tell myself this was all just part of the exercise, but something in the back of my mind told me it was not. Perhaps it was the cold steel eyes of the man who held me at gunpoint. Or maybe it was the fact that the more stuff I'd emptied out of the safe, the more convinced I had become I was really emptying out Arnold Smith's personal possessions. Or it could have just been the way the man held his gun with ease, no visible sign of anxiety or emotion. "Slowly reach into your jacket and put your weapon on the desk." He must have seen my hand moving for my suit coat because I stopped. I cursed silently as I pulled out my pistol and followed his instructions. My Glock 20 held live rounds. Beltran had been adamant that even though this was a training exercise we were technically in the field, and you always went into the field with real ammunition."We can work through this," I said, feeling a little lame that I didn't feel any of the bravado I'd felt during practice. I'd faced this situation hundreds of times, but that had always been with dummy pistols. Sweat trickled down my back and formed under my armpits. This is the first time I've ever had a live bullet pointed my way, I thought.