Dark Sky (The Misadventures of Max Bowman Book 1) by Joel Canfield Page A

Ultimate.”
    “Three letters again. Must be Andre’s idea.”
    “Yeah, it puts together the best parts of Taekwon-Do, Danzan Ryū and Shootfighting.”
    That sounded painful. Our food came, which was a good thing, because it was time to get back to business.
    “So why does your grandfather think your uncle is still alive?” I said casually as I poured syrup over my new set of pancakes.
    “No idea.”
    “Where’s your dad, if you don’t mind?”
    “He lives in Chicago.”
    That’s all he said and I didn’t go further. It was probably another long story I didn’t want to deal with right now. I sent my fork in after the cakes, mentally assembling my next line of questioning. But then he changed the subject before I did.
    “I…I really want to go with you.”
    My fork stopped in mid-air. I looked back at the kid. He was serious.
    “I mean, before, I know….well, I know I tried to stop you, but…but things happen for a reason. Now I think I got sent to meet you on purpose. Maybe we should work together to find out the truth. It’ll be good for Grandpa and maybe Mom too. And I think I can learn stuff from you.”
    “Your name’s Jeremy, right?” He nodded. “Well, Jeremy, here’s the thing. The reason I’m pale and sore today is because yesterday a black SUV rammed me from the side while a few hundred feet away from me a house was in the process of blowing to smithereens. One smithereen even landed on my car hood.”
    His eyes widened.
    “So I don’t know what I’m in for here. I do know if I get you killed, many people would be angry at me – including me.” 
    He ate a little, trying to come up with a response and finally found one. “But it wouldn’t be like it was your fault or anything, it would be my choice, not yours – so my fault if anything did happen.”
    “That’s not how everyone else would see it. Believe me, I’ve taken enough blame in my life.”
    “I just want my grandpa to be proud of me. He needs somebody to be proud of.”
    “So – join the Army. Wouldn’t he want that more than anything?”
    “I don’t want to kill anybody, that’s why I thought the CIA was good for me.”
    I laughed. “You don’t think the CIA kills people?”
    He shrugged. He was embarrassed again and I could see he felt stupid. I was a dick.
    But at least now I knew why I liked the kid.
    He was like me – he lacked the killer instinct. It was why my father didn’t go far at the Agency and why I ultimately opted out. You either were okay with killing people – as a matter of fact, you saw it as the path to progress – or you couldn’t get past the part where someone had to die for your ambitions, whether they be personal or political. Once someone at the Agency saw that sentimental streak in you, you wouldn’t ever have a shot at rising to the upper echelon. Because they really didn’t believe you belonged there at all.  
    “Okay, okay, kid, I know what you’re saying, but…no. The other thing is, I’m going to be gone a while. You should get back to your job and your mom.”
    “That wouldn’t be a big deal, I could just tell my supervisor I was helping you. And I could tell my mom they gave me a job that would keep me out of town for a while, she wouldn’t know I was with you or anything.”
    I chewed my pancakes. He wouldn’t stop and he still wasn’t done. I was seeing PMA in action.
    “I know what my uncle looks like. And I can talk to him, if he’s still alive. He can’t just blow me off, I’m family, right? I’m an asset here.”
    An asset? The kid was sharp. He made sense, but this was still ridiculous. The PMA inside him, however, wouldn’t let up.
    “And, look, I can tell you don’t feel very good, you said so yourself. You’re banged up and you could probably need some help, right? Just with running errands or something, getting food, whatever, I’m up for it.”
    Oh shit, I was starting to listen to him. What was next, a PowerPoint presentation to demonstrate