Thriller: Code Name: Camelot - An Action Thriller Novel (A Noah Wolf Novel, Thriller, Action, Mystery Book 1) by David Archer Page A
Authors: David Archer
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your passing.” Mathers wiped furiously at her eyes, at the tears that were leaking out of them. She began gathering her notes. “Anyway—I’ll be back in about two weeks, and hopefully I’ll have some more ideas. If it’s possible at all, I’m going to find a way to keep you alive.”
Noah looked at her, and smiled. “Something I need you to understand,” he said. “Just because I don’t fear death, I don’t want you to think that I welcome it. I still have a survival instinct, so if you come up with something that will work, then trust me, I’m all for it. Good luck, Lieutenant Mathers, for both our sakes.”
Noah knocked on the door, and the guard escorted him back to his room. When he got there, he sat down and thought about Lieutenant Mathers and her determination to stop his execution. While a part of him hoped she would succeed, another part was fairly sure that she would not, and he realized that when that final day arrived and he took that last walk down the hall, it would be she who truly suffered, rather than himself.
Some people might have thought that he was being compassionate, concerned for her feelings. The truth, though, was that his mental programming, the logical progression of thoughts that he had forced upon himself since he was seven years old, required him to consider the best interests of the people he dealt with. In Iraq, that had led him to become an extremely efficient soldier, so that his enemies did not suffer unnecessarily. In this case, it meant that he felt he should lessen her grief as much as he could.
Noah decided to end his appeals. By doing so, he would clear the way for his own execution, which would relieve Lieutenant Mathers of her duties as his attorney and allow her to begin the grieving process while he was still alive, which he had read could sometimes make it easier to bear.
He sat down at his table and began composing a letter, telling her of his decision. He didn’t explain that he was doing it primarily to make things easier for her, because he knew that would make her more resistant to his choice. Instead, he told her that he was beginning to feel a depression set in, and that since he had been without emotions for so many years, the sudden onslaught was just more than he could handle. He pointed out that there was no hope, not really, of any success in preventing his execution, so he would prefer to simply let it happen as soon as possible.
And then, he encouraged her in her plan to write his story. Perhaps, he said, his name might one day be cleared by her efforts, and he hoped that the attempt to tell his story truthfully would help to bring her peace.
Since the letter was to his attorney, he didn’t have to leave it open for inspection. Noah sealed the envelope and added the address that she had given him during her visit, affixed a stamp, and pushed it through the slot.
Two days had passed since Lieutenant Mathers had come to visit, and Noah was back to his usual schedule, working out for an hour and a half in the morning before sitting down to read until lunchtime. After lunch, he would get his hour of rec time, running laps around the yard, and then would come back and read until dinner, after which he would work out again for an additional hour and a half. It was morning, and he had just finished his morning workout routine, before climbing into the shower to wash off the sweat.
He heard the keys over the sound of the water, reached up to turn it off quickly, and then peeked around the curtain. Lieutenant Spencer stood there, grinning at him.
“Foster,” he said, “you got a visitor, a light colonel from the JAG Office. Better hustle it up, she doesn’t look like one who wants to be kept waiting.”
Noah’s eyebrows shot up. “Yes, Sir, be right out.” He hurriedly rinsed himself off, dried as quickly as he could, and climbed back into his brown jumpsuit. As soon as he was dressed, he knocked on the door, and he wasn’t surprised when it
Noah looked at her, and smiled. “Something I need you to understand,” he said. “Just because I don’t fear death, I don’t want you to think that I welcome it. I still have a survival instinct, so if you come up with something that will work, then trust me, I’m all for it. Good luck, Lieutenant Mathers, for both our sakes.”
Noah knocked on the door, and the guard escorted him back to his room. When he got there, he sat down and thought about Lieutenant Mathers and her determination to stop his execution. While a part of him hoped she would succeed, another part was fairly sure that she would not, and he realized that when that final day arrived and he took that last walk down the hall, it would be she who truly suffered, rather than himself.
Some people might have thought that he was being compassionate, concerned for her feelings. The truth, though, was that his mental programming, the logical progression of thoughts that he had forced upon himself since he was seven years old, required him to consider the best interests of the people he dealt with. In Iraq, that had led him to become an extremely efficient soldier, so that his enemies did not suffer unnecessarily. In this case, it meant that he felt he should lessen her grief as much as he could.
Noah decided to end his appeals. By doing so, he would clear the way for his own execution, which would relieve Lieutenant Mathers of her duties as his attorney and allow her to begin the grieving process while he was still alive, which he had read could sometimes make it easier to bear.
He sat down at his table and began composing a letter, telling her of his decision. He didn’t explain that he was doing it primarily to make things easier for her, because he knew that would make her more resistant to his choice. Instead, he told her that he was beginning to feel a depression set in, and that since he had been without emotions for so many years, the sudden onslaught was just more than he could handle. He pointed out that there was no hope, not really, of any success in preventing his execution, so he would prefer to simply let it happen as soon as possible.
And then, he encouraged her in her plan to write his story. Perhaps, he said, his name might one day be cleared by her efforts, and he hoped that the attempt to tell his story truthfully would help to bring her peace.
Since the letter was to his attorney, he didn’t have to leave it open for inspection. Noah sealed the envelope and added the address that she had given him during her visit, affixed a stamp, and pushed it through the slot.
Two days had passed since Lieutenant Mathers had come to visit, and Noah was back to his usual schedule, working out for an hour and a half in the morning before sitting down to read until lunchtime. After lunch, he would get his hour of rec time, running laps around the yard, and then would come back and read until dinner, after which he would work out again for an additional hour and a half. It was morning, and he had just finished his morning workout routine, before climbing into the shower to wash off the sweat.
He heard the keys over the sound of the water, reached up to turn it off quickly, and then peeked around the curtain. Lieutenant Spencer stood there, grinning at him.
“Foster,” he said, “you got a visitor, a light colonel from the JAG Office. Better hustle it up, she doesn’t look like one who wants to be kept waiting.”
Noah’s eyebrows shot up. “Yes, Sir, be right out.” He hurriedly rinsed himself off, dried as quickly as he could, and climbed back into his brown jumpsuit. As soon as he was dressed, he knocked on the door, and he wasn’t surprised when it
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