Karver: Failed Expectations

By Andrew Gilmour

Corporal John Karver has been in the Bazalonian military for the majority of his adult life. John has never been the same after a tragic and horrific incident in his past during a necessary but terrible war. Eight years later he is coping with his loss and living an empty life when a Colonel gives him a chance to enter back into the field as a one-man black ops team.

Taking the opportunity to once again have a purpose and something to do John is sent to assassinate the leader of a troublesome drug cartel. Completing his task no one could know what would happen next. A new leader takes the helm of the cartel and starts prepping for a drug war with Bazalonia. John must then travel to the remote region of Ch’qechi in Equatoria to face this new drug lord and his fascination with mystical artifacts. Specifically a spear that is said to have killed an ancient Mayan ruler, the Demon-King Akbal Imix, otherwise known as The Night Crocodile.

John must battle his own demons from the past and the unusual strangeness of the Demon King’s temple if he is going to come through this with his sanity intact. To do this he must use whatever assistance he can to overcome the drug lord and the strange influence that the temple has over him. What mysteries are hidden inside this unassuming temple? How does this all relate to John’s own dark history? Uncover the answers in this modern action adventure tale with a fantasy twist.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Andrew Gilmour
• Release date: Dec 4, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311329875

Andrew Gilmour

I am a 32 year old from Regional NSW, Australia. I'm a Trekkie, a Christian, and a Brown coat. I enjoy a wide variety of books and stories. Some of my favourite authors include Terry Pratchett, Max Barry and Tom Clancy. I like to draw on my broad base of knowledge and incorporate disparate elements of sci-fi, fantasy and military for something uniquely me. Oh, and I'm also a pretty big techhead. If you had to classify me then I'd be a nerd but that is just the surface.

Book preview

Karver: Failed Expectations

by Andrew Gilmour

Smashwords Edition

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© Copyright 2014, Andrew Gilmour. All rights reserved

Prologue

--- 23rd of May, 2003 AC (After Christ) ---

--- In Rightist Airspace –

Go! Go! Go! The words were barely audible over the aircraft’s screaming engines. Fortunately for Corporal Jonathon John Karver, the red light changed to green indicating it was time to go. Running out of the back of the flying aircraft, he leaped; soon to be followed by the rest of his five-man squad.

Those that didn't already know what to expect might have had their perceptions screwed with. Initially, time can seem to stand still, however, that suddenly changes as the brain finally registers the ground looming up before them. This was not the case for John as he well knew what to expect. He was an experienced jumper.

1200m…

1100m…

The altimeter ticked down until it hit the magic number, the number that told John and his squad-mates that now was the time to open up the chute and glide down to earth. Hopefully their landing would be at a pace that would not break any of their bones.

One by one the squad safely came to rest on the ground and packed away their chutes. Within minutes they were all reunited and ready to get under way; but not before a little reminder from the corporal about just what exactly their task was.

Here we are, men, in Rightist territory. Aerial communication monitoring has identified that there is an enemy communications hub somewhere in a two square kilometre area approximately six kilometres east-northeast of here. Satellite surveillance has been unable to determine its exact location. That's where we come in. We need to locate, identify and mark the communications hub. Then we need to call in an airstrike in preparation for a ground assault on this area. Once we are done we are to high-tail it out of here and back to allied lines. Everyone is clear on the task at hand?

Yes, sir. were the only words that he heard as they came from every member of his squad.

All right, keep your heads low and make use of any cover. Intel has indications that there are Rightist forces in the area. That is in addition to whatever security forces the communications hub has. So be ready for an engagement but the goal is to get in and get out undetected. All right. Let's move out.

Chapter 1

--- 13th July, 2011 AC. ---

--- Menszae Military Base, Drago (8 years later) ---

Peace had been won, the enemy had been vanquished. The only problem for Corporal John Karver, and many other military personnel like him, was that he had found himself out of a job and without any clear direction. His entire life had been changed by what he had experienced during his time on the ground, and in the air, during the war. The military had subsumed his life. His parents had died in a car crash while he was on deployment and he had no other family left.

There was no one for him to share his life with; not even any of his former squad-mates. For now, John had been relocated to a different base and had been given accommodation in base housing.

His life amounted to his morning routine. A predictable set of activities including an early morning five kilometre run, various other exercises, breakfast and shower. The rest of the day was filled with waiting, just waiting for something, for anything to happen. There were the occasional haircuts that he submitted his short black hair to but even that was just waiting, waiting for the hair-dresser to finish.

On occasion, he would just stare blankly into a mirror and just look at himself. He was tall but not overly tall, standing at 190 centimetres. He was muscled and toned but he wasn’t particularly bulky either. He had a slight tan but was other-wise pretty white.

On a particular day, for the first time since he arrived at his new 'home', something did happen. He received new orders. He was to report to Colonel Potter in Strategic Operations, also known as S.O. within the Bazalonian military.

Officially, Strategic Operations was the arm of the Bazalonian Military responsible for strategic military planning and logistical operations. However in addition to these tasks it also unofficially handled highly sensitive operations that could not be risked to be linked back to the Bazalonian government or military. They essentially housed the Black Ops Division of the Bazalonian military and its official duties provided great cover for its unofficial ones.

John tentatively entered the large Strategic Operations building, near the centre of the base. He was surprised to see such a flurry of activity. For the most part Strategic Operations was the heart of the military bureaucracy and John's impression of the bureaucracy was that of a slow lumbering behemoth. However being inside the offices now he could see with his own eyes how wrong his impression was.

I'm looking for Colonel Potter, he stated looking for some directions to the colonel from a bald man who sat at the front counter in the foyer of the building. The man must have been a receptionist of some kind.

The man sighed, Do you have an appointment? the receptionist asked with a tone as if John was distracting him from a very important task. This important task apparently needed his full attention. John very much doubted that this was the case but he played along none-the-less.

Yes, I have been given orders to report to him. I am Corporal Johnathon Karver, John presented his military identification to the receptionist. The receptionist took a look at the ID and then started typing something into the computer system. Unlike how the receptionist responded to John, John replied with no hint of emotion nor any real inflection to his statement.

The receptionist sighed heavier this time. The receptionist looked up at his screen sitting on the desk All right. I see you here. I will need to get you a visitor's tag and swipe card. Just a moment while I encode those. However instead of doing what he said he was going to do he picked up the phone and typed in a few numbers.

He turned away from John as he mumbled into the phone, Hi Jayne, It's Nick at the front counter. I need a high-clearance escort... Thanks. With that he hung up. An escort will arrive in a minute to show you to the colonel and anywhere else you need to go while here. He set about encoding the swipe card and visitor tag while waiting and handed them over to John who was able to clip the tag on before the escort arrived.

Could you please escort this gentleman to Office D621, Lieutenant. the receptionist more stated than asked, presenting the escort the appropriate paperwork as he did so.

If you would walk with me this way, sir, With an open palm the escort pointed the way down a long hallway to the left. Together they walked down the corridors, taking turns at seemingly random locations until they arrived at an elevator. There were a number of floors above them but instead of going up they went down... Sub-basement A, Sub-basement B, C and finally stopping at Sub- basement Level D.

For the most part from what John had seen of this floor, it seemed to contain just standard offices. Rooms contained a large number of consistently-sized offices, most of which were closed; though seemingly all occupied. They all had been numbered D125, D287 and so on. Bright fluorescent lights shined in the hallways and inside the offices. In Sub-basement Level D all the offices seemed fairly standard and dull, as if they were offices for middle-management. There was clearly far more security, however, than what he saw on the ground level. This drastic increase in security was the only hint there was more to this area than initially met the eye. There were officers who challenged the pair before letting them pass along with some advanced electronic security measures which needed the swipe cards as well. All of which was to ensure that people were where they were meant to be.

It didn't take long for them to find the office they were looking for and the mysterious Colonel Potter. The escort stood to attention by the door while Mr. Jonathon Karver entered through the door after knocking and being invited in.

John, glad to meet you, Colonel Potter said as the door clicked shut behind John. The colonel rose from his chair and went over to shake John's hand. I’ve been going over your file and I've got a proposal for you, Mister Karver. It is not an order, it is merely a request. Please take a seat and we'll discuss your potential future in Strategic Operations.

Chapter 2

--- 24th August, 2011 AC. Equatorian Jungle ---

The jungle was thick with leaves and the smell of wet moss as John inched his way through the undergrowth. The target was up ahead, a drug dealer. He was responsible for the vast majority of illegal drugs coming into Bazalonia. The Bazalonian Federal Police had been on to him for some time but they had been stonewalled by the local Equatorian government.

Strategic Operations had decided that enough was enough and it was time to take out this threat to Bazalonia's security once and for all. It wasn't legal in any sense of the word and that's why they had sent John in. His equipment was all generic equipment, easily obtainable on the black market. He carried a sniper rifle, scope, side arm along with binoculars, night vision goggles, GPS receiver and a pair of gloves. He wore no dog tags, or any other identifying equipment. Without access to extremely classified Bazalonian files he would just be a random assassin sent to kill; and that was exactly what he planned to do. It wasn't nice, it wasn't proper, but it was necessary.

A small rise gave way to a clearing ahead, buildings and various structures were dotted around inside. Most of the buildings were fairly ramshackle; wood presumably felled from the jungle that encased the clearing. There was one building, however, that stood out. It was a large rectangular building not made of wood but it looked it was made out of sandstone, at least that’s what its colour indicated.

The windows built into this building had their curtains drawn, so it was hard to see inside but, from the outside it looked far more luxurious than a building located in this region had any right to be. A simple dirt road wound itself into the compound passed the sandstone building's front door and to a region that seemed to act as the compound's motor pool.

John silently waited among the jungle undergrowth. There, as yet, hadn't been any sign that the target was inside the compound but the intel was clear that he was. This clearing and the buildings located therein were certainly owned by the Alvarez drug cartel, headed by a