Jocko Combat Tested Novels & Stories

He chuckles nervously, “It still baffles me that you choose to be your own product tester.” I shrug, a sly smirk spreading on my lips, “It still baffles me that more CEO’s aren’t. Is the facility ready for me?” “Always,” Douglas presses a finger against the keypad, and it illuminates green, allowing us entry. Along the walls are prototypes for my newest bullet-proof compression shirts. I came up with a design that would be comfortable for combat, as well as light and flexible for the average soldier. But more importantly, it’s designed to eliminate the effects of silver bullets.

Shared experience had woven something durable between us, something that refused to unravel. For all his bluster, Jock was softer than he liked to admit. He donated more to charity than he ever had to his ex-wives. Every year he organised a fundraiser for Great Ormond Street. He had run the London Marathon fifteen years straight. Last year, he pushed a hospital bed through the course, complete with nurses in stockings and suspenders, looking less like a doctor and more like a character from a Benny Hill sketch.

SASR. Captain Jack McCormack crouched near the open side door, one hand on the frame, the other on the sling of his SIG MCX. Through the haloed glow of the NVGs, the dunes rolled beneath them like the backs of sleeping leviathans. He ran the checklist without looking: suppressor threaded; secondary Glock seated; encrypted comms paired; drone uplinked; beacon off; IR strobe taped. Everything ready. Everything familiar. Everything that had ever mattered to him fit inside the silhouette of his kit.

I felt my nipples harden and hoped that it didn’t show but seeing as his look turned dark, I knew he had seen it. He wasn’t completely buff, but had a lean built, with powerful biceps that he’d acquired after hours and hours of slamming the puck into the net. I’d seen him naked before but did not notice the details. The slender waist or the broad shoulders. The tats on his arms and back added to the danger factor. “I dare you to...” his voice was a low baritone, “take off your shorts.” If I did that, I’d be left wearing only the thin crop-top and my underwear.

The other two jocks lunged, but they were nothing compared to a man who grew up fighting for air in the Vance empire and fighting for respect on the asphalt. Jax was a whirlwind of controlled violence. He moved with the grace of a Greek god and the brutality of a street brawler. A shoulder check sent one boy flying; a sharp jab to the ribs folded the other. Within seconds, the "kings of the hallway" were nothing more than groaning heaps on the pavement.

The training ground cleared. Torches cast long, sharp shadows across the dirt ground. Jake removed his shirt, folding it neatly and handing it to Ellias. His body bore scars, old, jagged reminders of battles fought and survived. Not the polished scars of a warrior trained in luxury, but the marks of someone who had been forced to fight for every breath, every step forward. Draven rolled his shoulders. I could see his confidence. “This won’t take long.”he said while removing his coat. Jake said nothing. He simply raised his fists, his stance quiet but ready.

Kayson placed Captain Yeager and the others down before he got up and looked toward Jock. Kayson said calmly, “You shouldn’t hurt people.” Jock sneered. “I’m a master-level practitioner. How dare a bunch of deadbeats to block my path? It’s already considered merciful for me not to kill them.” Kayson did not speak further, but he moved his body so swiftly that Jock did not even manage to react to the situation before he was blasted away by Kayson’s punch. Jock shattered the glass and landed on the road opposite.

Arrick was still almost slumped in a ball and Jake leaned out and pushed his shades back, slotting them back on top of Arrick’s head carelessly. “Fuck off,” his brother mumbled under his breath, and the security guard just glared Jake’s way. Jake glared right back, aggression prickling instantly to put him in his place. No paid heavy of his father’s was going to try to lord over his relationship with his kid brother. He was sure he could take him, even in here. The guy was about five-foot-eight max and looked like he could only bench press half of what Jake did. Besides, Jake had years of cage fighting and mixed martial arts training under his belt, he would give it a go even if the guy was

In an ideal world, it could be considered the best way to approach a battle of strength, might and will. Jack was a different case. Unlike James's instinctive, unpredictable and dynamic fighting style, Jack was more... graceful with his. He fought like he was dancing. It was focused more on his agility than his strength, and he just happened to be incredibly powerful as well. He evaded, blocked and dealt counter attacks.

Jake stated seriously. "I'll be inside call me if you need me." Cole stated following Gabby. Cole is already used to Jake's attitude he is rude and arrogant but he knows when to butt in a situation. Those punks had it coming. Jake hates it when someone talks trash about someone. He also has some anger issues. If things don't go his way he always settles things with a fight. He hates losing and he never loses a fight. He is an expert with man to man combat, gun and air strike. He was part of the air force for about 4 years. He was a great soldier. But more importantly he is a great friend. He never let his friends down.