“Our area extends north to the Colorado border, east to I-25, west to Farmington, and south to Santa Fe where we overlap with the Albuquerque branch.”
Ben had joined her at the map. He whistled appreciatively at the technology of the interactive display. “This is live?”
“There’s a twenty-second delay, but yes, for all practical purposes, it’s live. As you can see our area is green, which indicates no current threats.” She palmed the bottom right corner of the panel and the map zoomed out, showing the entire southwest United States. “The yellow spots indicate reported but unconfirmed threats.”
“Abilene? What type of threat would there be in Abilene?”
“It could be anything. Today’s happens to be at the wind farms.” Dana zoomed back in to her territory. “Our area is fairly wide for a staff of twelve, plus me. We run three shifts of four. Shifts overlap one hour—eight to five, four to one, and twelve to nine. As we’re talking, the late-night shift is in the back, writing up their reports.”
Dana touched the panel again, and it resumed its flat-screen appearance. She perched on the corner of her desk and expected Ben to sit in his chair. Instead, he remained standing, legs slightly apart, arms clasped behind his back—military stance. For some reason, it irritated her.
“We’ve had military men here before, Mr. Marshall.”
“Call me Ben.”
“Ben, I do appreciate your service to our country. But in the past servicemen have not been satisfied working in this office.”
Ben cocked his head to the side. “Why would you say that is?”
“We are first responders. Our task is to respond, contain, diffuse, and when possible arrest. If we do our job well, the media is not involved and the residents are not aware of the threat. We carry firearms, but we rarely use them.”
Dana paused and looked to the right of the flat screen. Three framed photos hung there. The man in the middle had also been former military. Looking at him, she realized that was what made her uncomfortable about Ben Marshall. Rules of engagement were different here, and it was difficult for military guys to adjust. She’d failed to convey that to Josh in some way, and he’d died because of it. She didn’t want the burden of another death on her conscience. They were piling up faster than she could have nightmares about them.
Ben Marshall was a man she’d rather not get close to, rather not know, certainly rather not care about.
But working as a team meant caring about each other. She thought of what she owed the three men on the wall and how to explain their sacrifice to this new, green recruit.
“Our ops vary—biological, chemical, conventional.”
“Nuclear?”
“I won’t lie to you. There have been three such attacks in the continental United States—all diffused before the media caught wind of what was happening. In two of the three cases, some of our people were exposed to the material and died.”
“Here?”
Ben’s face was serious now. It was the first time the smile had completely left. It wasn’t replaced by fear, but rather a calm acceptance. Dana realized whether she liked him or not, he would be good in his job.
“No. I’m not at liberty to say where, but it wasn’t here. My point is we do not have the luxury of going into a situation in full hazmat gear as that would create a widespread panic. It’s our job to avoid frightening the general population as much as it is our job to diffuse the threat.”
She glanced again at the wall of honor, then looked at Ben, studied him fully. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes, ma’am. I read the fine print. I signed the release.”
Dana took a deep breath, stood, and walked to her door. Opening it she called to Clay.
“Take Mr. Marshall to the back and introduce him to the night team before they leave. Then pass him over to Captain. We’ll start him on the radios.”
Ben stepped to the side so she could pass back into the office and he could walk out. She knew he was almost her age—only one year junior—so why did he look so young? No doubt he had seen as much death as she had, possibly or more in his years overseas. Yet he again wore that goofy grin. Perhaps he was a fool. He didn’t strike her as such. And there had been the moment of complete seriousness between them.
Time would tell.
As he followed Clay out of her office, she called him back. “Mr. Marshall. We try to blend in with the citizens of Taos. You need to lose the military look, if that’s possible.”
“Look?”
“The way you stand.” She waved her hand at him. “The way you… are. Try to act more normal.”
Ben smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”
“And stop calling me that.” She began typing on her laptop, pulling up e-mails.
“Sure thing, boss.”
Dana resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “You can dress more casual.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Shut the door, please.”
He did. Only then did she allow herself to watch him walk away and wonder again what she was going to do with the likes of Ben Marshall.
Four
Ben shed the jacket and tie immediately, then spent the rest of the day with Captain. The man was a curmudgeon, but he knew his job. Ben had run across his type more than once in the military. They were so accustomed to being disrespected by the world at large, they anticipated and adjusted accordingly before it happened.
Captain stared out at him from under shaggy eyebrows. “You think you understand the notation system in the logbooks?”
“Yes, sir. You explained it well.”
“Explaining it is one thing. You following it is another.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Pale blue eyes peered into his. Ben waited. Captain stood and handed the logbook to George from the midshift team. George was a short guy, probably Ben’s age, and prematurely balding. He’d hooked into the board with the official headset, and he waited patiently for the logbook.
He’d been waiting for twenty minutes, watching Ben get grilled. Ben understood he would endure ribbing about Captain’s training techniques later.
Ben’s training headset had also been plugged into the board. He’d unplugged and begun to store it when George showed up. That had been a mistake. Captain had taken the set and begun quizzing him.
“Which side does the local dispatch come through?” Captain asked, holding the headset between them.
“Right side.”
“What’s the procedure if you hear a level one or level-two call?”
“I override local dispatch, say we are responding to the call, then notify Miss Jacobs.”
Ben knew he’d answered inadequately by the way Captain rubbed his left eyebrow and stared up at the ceiling. George tried to cover his laugh with a cough.
“What about logging it in?”
“Right after I call Dana, I mean Miss Jacobs.”
“Wrong, Marshall. Before you call Jacobs. It has to go in the books immediately. As you’re talking to dispatch, you’re writing in the logbook.”
“Yes, sir. I remember you telling me that now.”
Captain waited. Ben had the feeling he was trying to gauge whether or not he should bother asking his new recruit another question.
“Left ear?”
“Upper level feds—regional and national.”
“Eyes?”
“On the monitor at all times, reading transcriptions, looking for anomalies.”
Captain shook his head, as if Ben had answered wrong, but he didn’t correct him. He rewound the cord around the set and stored it.
“And you think you can do all three things at once?”
“Yes, sir. I do.”
For his answer, Captain turned and walked away.
George waited until the older man had disappeared into the back break room before he allowed his laughter to slip between them.
“Tough break, pulling Captain first.”
“Have to start somewhe
re,” Ben said.
“Make it through Captain’s sour attitude, and you’ll probably enjoy meeting up with a terrorist.” George leaned back in the chair, right earpiece firmly in place, left raised above his head so he could talk with Ben. Lights on the monitor board would indicate any incoming calls if by some chance he didn’t hear them—which he would.
Ben could tell George took his job as seriously as everyone else, but he’d learned to do it with a little less intensity.
Ben stretched, popped his back, then hopped on to the counter. He was ready to go home, but then again he hadn’t actually checked into his apartment yet. This office, on the other hand, already felt like where he belonged.
“We’ve lost a few over the years to Captain. Wouldn’t want to see him run you off.” George followed Ben’s gaze. Clay and Dana stood at her door. Both were studying something in a folder.
“What’s Clay’s story?” Ben asked. He had officially met all the staff now, and Clay seemed the stiffest to him. Captain’s bad humor he’d find a way around. Clay he couldn’t get a handle on yet.
“Clay? He’s all right.” George picked up a stress ball and tossed it from one hand to the other.
“He seems protective of her,” Ben noted.
George took a moment to answer. “We all are,” he finally admitted. “Clay maybe a little more than the rest. He’s been here the longest. He’s participated in some of the tougher ops with her.”
“Have something to do with the three guys on the wall in her office?”
“Yeah. He was on that one. It was bad.” The light on the monitor beeped. George straightened and righted his headphone. “Take care, man.”
George tossed him the stress ball, then logged the nightly report.
Clay no longer stood at Dana’s office, so Ben detoured by on his way to the break room.
He approached her door quietly, not wanting to disturb her. Watching her read over something in a folder, he couldn’t help but notice how tired she looked. What time did she arrive in the morning? No doubt well before her shift.
When he tapped lightly on the open door, she looked up and pasted on a smile.
“I was headed out,” Ben said. “Wanted to stop by and see if you need me to do anything else.”
Dana looked slightly puzzled. “No. Your shift is over, Ben. You can go.”
Some of her brown hair had escaped from the clasp that held it back. He wondered how long it had been since she’d worn it down, felt the sun shine through it. Then he realized he probably shouldn’t be having such thoughts about his boss, and that thought made his smile grow even broader. It seemed to rattle her more.
“Was there something else?” she asked.
“If you’re staying, I could go and get you a sandwich.”
Dana tilted her head slightly, as if the thought of eating hadn’t occurred to her. “That won’t be necessary, but thank you.”
“All right then. Have a good evening.” Ben turned to go and nearly walked into Clay.
The man must have a monitor aimed at her door. Which was fine too. There were some things you couldn’t guard against. Ben was no knight in shining armor, and he had no idea where this urge to sweep his boss off her feet had come from. But he wasn’t going to let Clay Statler stop him. Besides, at the rate she was going, she would fall off her feet. He’d merely have to manage to be in the general vicinity so he could catch her when it happened.
Climbing into his truck, he rolled down the window and watched the sun set over the mountains. This was God’s country. He’d felt it as a young man eight years ago. The certainty of it still vibrated in his bones.
Something was tugging him toward Dana Jacobs. He felt no urgency to understand why. As his dad was fond of saying, “God will reveal His hand, but not until God is ready.”
In the meantime, Ben had an apartment to settle into and a job to learn. Not much more a man could ask for.
Five
Dana went on Ben’s first call Thursday morning so she could watch him. She told herself it wasn’t unusual. She kept a close eye on all new assignees—as much to keep them out of harm’s way as to be sure they were performing adequately.
There was more to it than that though. Over her last five years as lead responder in Taos, she’d learned the importance of team chemistry. She needed to hold back and see how Ben worked with the others when things came down to the wire. She wanted to watch him under pressure. A reference was one thing, but references never told the whole story.
So when he appeared at her door early Thursday morning dressed in khaki pants and a button-up denim shirt, she didn’t hesitate.
“Intercepted a call from the high school to local enforcement. An unidentified backpack was left near the front, central fountain. It’s not one of their approved brands.”
It had been a long week—tedious almost—as most of their weeks were. She searched Ben’s face and was pleased to see no eagerness, only quiet acceptance.
“I’ll ride along,” she said as she stood, retrieved her firearm from her drawer, and slid it into her paddle holster.
Ben nodded and disappeared into the gear room.
Dana stepped into the main room and looked up at the assignment board. “Nina, I want you here at the door. Captain, stay on the radios. Clay and Red, you’re with us.”
Everyone moved like the gears in a clock. They were in the van within two minutes of Ben stepping into her office.
The high school was located in the center of town. Red parked the van across from the building and stayed with it. Everyone else stepped out simultaneously. No one had spoken on the way over. Everyone knew their roles—it was a textbook call—and Dana hoped with all her heart it was a false alarm.
An electronic billboard proclaimed HOME OF THE TIGERS. As they neared the building, Clay peeled off toward the main doors where the principal waited just inside as he had been instructed. Ben and Dana walked straight toward the backpack.
Dana still hadn’t said anything, but she watched Ben closely. His shoulders were loose and his pace purposeful. He wasn’t running toward it. No one watching would have thought to panic. In fact, any students who happened to be looking out a window might think he was a father coming to pick up a missing backpack.
He didn’t slow down until he reached the pack, then squatted beside it and studied it.
Dana knelt across from him. She waited a full thirty seconds, then asked, “What do you think?”
Ben shrugged. “Few bombers dot their i’s with hearts.”
She moved around to his side. In light-blue, permanent marker someone had written Jaimie, and both i’s were dotted with hearts. The letters were tiny though, and the pack was faded denim. She wasn’t sure she would have seen it.
Ben turned on his hand scanner, ran it over the pack from top to bottom, then left to right. “It’s not hot.”
He stood, grabbed the pack, and draped it over his shoulder.
They walked back to the van at the same deliberate pace and reached it at the exact moment as Clay. They were quiet on the return trip, and Dana gave Ben points for his reticence as well. Many newbies celebrated too early before the mission was actually over.
Back at the office, Ben took the pack to the decon room, placed it on the table under the hood, and x-rayed it.
He was back at Dana’s door in an hour with a list of contents.
“How sure are we about this?” Dana didn’t look up, merely continued studying the printout. Ben stood at military rest in front of her—feet spread, arms clasped behind him. She wondered again when he’d figure out she wasn’t his sergeant.
“One hundred percent.”
She looked up, skeptical.
“Ma’am.”
Not the answer Dana wanted.
“Boss.” Ben shifted uncomfortably, but a smile tugged at his lips.
She was convinced he knew he irritated her. He’d done his job well though. She had no critiques other than with his answer.
“I
doubt you can be 100 percent certain, Ben. However, if you’re over 95 percent sure there are no explosives in the pack, then you may open it and explore the contents.” Dana handed the inventory back to him.
“Yes, ma’am.” He touched the corner of the sheet, but didn’t immediately pull it away. “Captain’s going out for burgers. Would you like something?”
“No. But thank you, Ben, for asking.” She let go of the sheet, pulled the next folder to her, and opened it, plainly signaling for him to leave.
“It won’t hurt if they see you eat,” he said softly.
Dana stared at the sheet in front of her, seeing but not comprehending the words on the page. She forced herself to count to ten, made it only to four, then looked up.
“I appreciate your concern over my dietary needs, but I’ll pass. Thank you.”
She made sure to look him directly in the eyes and speak clearly. Possibly the man didn’t pick up on subtle, social clues.
Ben cocked his head and studied her, glanced out the window, then ran his hand over the top of his head, further disturbing the mess of hair there.
“If you change your mind, let me know. I can go back and get you something. Or I can share.” He turned and walked out the door.
She had dared to breathe a sigh of relief that he was gone when he stuck his head back around the corner.
“Or I’ll give you mine, because I ate breakfast. I don’t really need it.”
Before she could answer, he was gone.
She looked down at the folder again, tried to remember what it was about, and finally gave up. Turning to her computer screen, she called up her e-mail and pushed Ben Marshall from her mind.
Thirty minutes later, she was talking with Clay when Marshall called her on the phone. “What is it, Ben?”
“I think you’re going to want to see this.”
“Something from the pack?”
“Yeah. We have a problem.”
Six
Ben glanced up as Dana and Red walked into the room.
Hidden (Jacobs Family Series Book 1) Page 2