People had to wonder if it was ever a good idea to have an army of mercs share the work cafeteria with scientists and engineers. Of course, everyone had a cover story. Security, random interviewee for ProTech’s arms department. Whatever was convenient for the time to not raise a few brows.

  Well, Mark could tell it raised a few brows. It was his job to keep his ear low and listen in on conversations and figure out what the atmosphere was like. Every single person was confused as to why management was suddenly hiring an influx of particular people who looked like they would strangle a hamster to death for fun. An insult if Mark ever thought of one, but one that he admitted was pretty fair given his occupation.

  Plus, about the humble creature such as a hamster. He knew those rodents have a tendency to get themselves killed at any chance they get.

  Finding familiar faces from the presentation. Mark walked over to a group of ten mercs and sat down with them. ‘Do we know you?’ A man with red hair said to Mark.

  ‘Of course not, but I do recognise all of you during the presentation.’ Mark replied before reaching his hand out to shake each of their hands and resting his case on his lap. ‘Name’s Mark, Mark Esmen. I think we should all come together and maybe form a coalition of some sort.’

  ‘What sort of coalition?’

  Mark smiled, thinking he got them interested in a little deal. ‘I think we can all agree about the risks associated with the mission. We read the files, and I believe we know what we are about to be dealing with. So, I propose we do a little risk management and come together and form a team. The lady says we can split the bill if we succeed. I say we split it evenly among everyone sitting at this table.’

  The mercs looked at each other and laughed. Mark’s smile faded away, realising his offer didn’t turn out as favourable as he thought. ‘Really, you propose a plan that we have already come up with?’ The red-haired man pointed out.

  ‘Then let me rephrase. I want in. Just to increase our chances of survival. We are all in the same business and we are clearly good enough to be hired for the job. The pay is good, almost perfect. All of us in this room can retire and live like kings at the end of it. However, sometimes the smart decision is to work as a team. Our employers see fit to have us work together.’

  ‘And they are desperate to remove the problem.’ The man replied to Mark. ‘Look, I know what you are trying to get at. But we are already full. Go look for someone else.’

  Seeing that there was no point in trying to negotiate his way into joining a team. Mark sighed and stood up. ‘In that case, Fi Amanillah and good hunting.’

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  ‘Hang on a minute.’ The red-haired man stood up to confront Mark before he could leave. ‘Where are you from?’

  ‘Kenya,’ Mark proudly replied. ‘Banssia, born and raised. Why are you asking?’

  The man frowned, realising who he was talking to. ‘I heard about a Kenyan Muslim taking bounties on US troops. The Kenyan Ghost. I just want to know if I am talking to the right person.’

  Mark raised a brow. ‘Work is work, my friend. I don’t see why you should take issue with it. Especially when we both do the same thing.’

  ‘Yeah… work. Just so happens some of my friends might be killed because of you.’

  Ah shit, a fucking yank. Mark thought for a moment, trying to find a way to walk out of the situation without getting into a fight or argument. ‘Look, we are all professionals here. Let’s not make a scene when we can just focus on getting back to work.’

  ‘Oh, okay. The apathetic type you are.’

  Mark shrugged, ‘I suppose I am. It is a job that kept me fed and paid the bills.’

  They both stood in silence, waiting for the other to respond. Then, to Mark’s surprise. The man started to laugh, smiling like nothing happened. Thinking it was just a fluke and believing that the man was perhaps a psychopath with some sort of disorder. Mark laughed along.

  However, by laughing with him. Mark forgot one of the most important life rules he learned during his time fighting in Sudan. Never laugh with psychopaths. Even if they made a funny joke, cracked a smile, or even if you felt it was a good idea at the time. It was never smart to laugh with them.

  Without warning, the man punched Mark in the stomach before shoving him away. People in the cafeteria shot up to watch the fight while Mark stumbled back, dropping his case to raise his hands to fight. Mark swung at the man, but he blocked it and knocked Mark to the ground with a right hook. A pathetic and swift end to a fight, but one Mark knew he couldn’t win no matter how hard he tried. He wasn’t that kind of fighter.

  ‘That is for my friends!’ The man hissed before he stomped on Mark’s back, forcing the air out of his lungs before walking away. ‘Hope we don’t see each other on the field.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Mark mumbled before coughing and getting back on his feet. ‘Sure, hope we don’t see each other again.’