Agent in Training

by Jerri Drennen

  Nick slipped his arms into his shirt, wavering between what he knew to be right, and what could keep him working for the DNS.

  Once his shoes were on, Nick grabbed the jacket and tie hanging inside his locker.

  He took a deep breath and left the room, still unsure what he should do. He’d wait to see what the director had to say, then decide.

  Shiloh rubbed her eyes, trying to extinguish the image of Nicholas Trent. Naked. Wet and glistening. Ripped like no man she’d ever seen. How had he managed to get a tan over his entire body?

  She swallowed hard, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

  Did the man lie naked all day on a beach? Or on a tanning bed? Didn’t he know how bad that was for him?

  The image of his buff bronzed body fueled a strange sensation, and a rush of heat warmed her loins. How was she going to face him professionally, after seeing him in his birthday suit?

  The door behind her opened, and she stepped back.

  “What did you want to see me about?” Trent leaned against the doorframe, looking for all the world as if nothing had happened.

  “You missed your appointment with me this morning. It was scheduled for ten o’clock.” Yet another act of insubordination, as far as she was concerned.

  He glanced at his watch, then at her. “Are you sure? I thought it was for eleven.”

  Shiloh could tell he wasn’t at all worried about his tardiness, and that irritated her even more. “Yes, I’m sure, Agent Trent.”

  “Well then, I’m sorry. It must have been a mix-up on my part.”

  She closed her eyes, trying to remain calm. But the moment she did, she was bombarded with images of his naked body again.

  Her eyes popped open. Just get this over with.

  “You knew I was meeting with everyone individually to see where they fit in the agency. I went over your file and reviewed your performance record. Not much to report there, I might add. You haven’t really stood out, or taken initiative to crack any major cases.” Shiloh cleared her throat and shifted her weight onto her other leg. “I’m sorry, but I need a go-to guy and I just don’t see that ambition in you, not to mention the fact that you don’t fit the new image I’m trying to infuse here.”

  His eyes narrowed, then darkened a shade. “Really? And what kind of image is that, Ms. Templar?” His tone held a hard edge.

  “Someone older, more professional.” Less tanned. Not so attractive.

  “Isn’t that age discrimination?”

  “Mr. Trent, the rumor mill has it that you weren’t sure you wanted to stay at DNS anyway.”

  “Rumors are just that—rumors.”

  She angled her head slightly. “You never insinuated to anyone you were thinking of leaving the agency?”

  “Look, Director Templar, I want to stay. Give me a chance to prove myself, then if you still want me gone, I’ll leave.”

  “I’m going to be frank with you, Agent Trent. And this comes from higher up, not from me. I have to let some people go. You’re what they call low man on the totem pole.”

  His light blue eyes darkened further, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “I see. I didn’t want to have to resort to this, but if you insist on dismissing me, I may just have to tell someone over at EEOC that you entered the men’s shower room unannounced, and made unwanted sexual advances toward me.”

  Shiloh’s jaw dropped and her stomach churned at the accusation. “I did no such thing.”

  “I saw you take a look at my package. Do you deny that?”

  She closed her eyes again. Damn it. She couldn’t. This whole thing was totally unbelievable. How could this be happening to her? This was her first week on the job, and she was already in over her head. Unfortunately, she knew all too well, on a personal level, about sexual harassment––thanks to ex-CIA agent, Grady Sheppard.

  “What do you want?”

  “I told you. Give me a chance to show you I can be an asset here. That I can be this go-to guy you want. That’s all.”

  “Do you really think an extortionist like yourself would be an asset?”

  “I didn’t want to resort to this. You left me no choice.”

  “You have a choice, Mr. Trent. You just chose not to see it.”

  His jaw tightened. “What’s with you? You’ve been on my ass since the day you came here. Why?”

  “Because you look and act as if you belong at the beach, not in National Security.”

  “I don’t think your assessment is fair. Wouldn’t my appearance be a plus? I don’t look the part. I could blend in much better than those stuffed shirts upstairs. Why are you so blind that you can’t see that?”

  Shiloh blew out a breath, trying not to lose control. She’d already made the biggest faux pas she could by walking into the men’s showers. Okay, so she shouldn’t have gone inside to look for him, but she’d been angry he had chosen not to attend the interview as scheduled––yet another act of insubordination. Then with everything that had been going on with her father, she just hadn’t been thinking straight. She certainly wasn’t going to give him any more ammunition. He had her by the proverbial balls and there wasn’t a darn thing she could do about it.

  She’d give him a month, and then he’d be out on his tanned little ass. Until then, she’d just keep her distance and pray this would be the quickest thirty days in history.

  “All right, Trent, you win. For now. But a month from today, if you try to use this against me again, I’ll take you before the board and have you terminated. You’ll never work as a security agent again. Do I make myself clear?”

  “We’ll see.” He smiled, then turned and sauntered off.

  Shiloh watched him leave, anger heating her face. Nicholas Trent was as arrogant as a man could get. He might think she’d given in to his blackmail, but he wasn’t going to enjoy what she had in store for him.

  Sure, he still had his job, but let’s see how he liked the assignments she’d give him.

  He may think he’s won this round, but the next would be hers.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Nick studied the large roster board that hung on the wall, looking for his next assignment––then quickly did a double take. Surveillance at a sewage treatment plant.

  What? This couldn’t be right.

  “Is this a typo, Hank? Why the hell would we be watching a sewage plant?”

  “The agency received a tip about an alleged bombing threat on the facility. We have to stakeout the place and watch for anything suspicious.”

  “And how did we get this crap job?”

  Hank smiled at Nick’s pun. “This one came from the director herself.”

  Nick scowled. “Yeah, I’ll just bet it did. How long do we have to watch this place?”

  “I guess until the threat passes.”

  How long would that be? He couldn’t believe he was going to have to watch a treatment plant. Old Iron Maiden did this to him. Clearly, she was trying to get back at him for his sexual harassment threat, which was hardly fair to Hank.

  He clenched his teeth. He’d do the job, and follow instructions to the letter. No matter how unpleasant the assignment was. He refused to give her an excuse to send him packing at the end of the month.

  “Hey, Trent,” Gary Freeman hollered from across the room.

  Nick cringed. He knew the man couldn’t stand him. All Gary did was make Nick the butt of every joke he ever told. Gary had only been with the Department a year longer than Nick, but the man figured his seniority gave him the right to tell Nick what to do. So, whatever came out of Freeman’s mouth had to be a smart-ass remark.

  “What?” Nick braced himself for the wisecrack coming.

  “Heard you get to go and wallow in our waste.”

  Nick smiled, envisioning himself punching the man right in the eye.

  Gary grinned back. “I guess our new director must really like you or she wouldn’t have saved such a choice job for you.”

  The agents sitting at their desks roa
red with laughter.

  “You know, she’s not too bad on the eye as long as you don’t look at her face.”

  Nick’s blood curdled. Gary crossed the line. How dare he say something like that? Talk about objectifying women. Besides, Ms. Templar didn’t have an ugly face—as a matter of fact, she was quite pretty for an Ice Princess.

  “I’d even do her,” Gary continued, “if she’d be willing to wear a bag over her head. I mean, she does have nice tits.”

  The men in the room laughed again, louder this time, all but Nick and Hank.

  Nick shook his head in disgust. And the director thought he wasn’t DNS material… Gary Freeman definitely didn’t belong. The man was an imbecile. Whatever Nick thought of Ms. Templar, she was their boss and certainly didn’t need to be talked about like a bimbo by those who worked for the Department.

  His control started to slip when the phone on his desk rang.

  Saved by the bell, Freeman.

  Nick inhaled a deep breath to calm his emotions. He needed to get a handle on his temper since Freeman was clearly baiting him.

  “Agent Trent speaking.”

  “Nicky, honey, it’s Mia. I was wondering if you were free tomorrow night? I have two tickets to see Breakwater.”

  Nick sat on the edge of his desk, leafing through a pile of papers, and held the phone to his ear with his shoulder. “I wish I could, but I have to work.”

  “Come on, Nicky. It has been weeks. I miss you. Can’t you get out of it somehow?”

  “No. They’re downsizing at the Department. I have to prove myself or I could lose my job.”

  He heard Mia’s disappointed sigh.

  “You didn’t even want to stay at DNS a month ago. What changed?”

  Nick closed his eyes, the image of Shiloh Templar played around in his mind. “I have to think of my future, Mia. I can’t hang out at the beach and surf for the rest of my life. I hate to cut you short, but I gotta go. Bye.”

  Nick hung up before she had a chance to say another word. He didn’t need her trying to sway him from his plans. He knew exactly what he wanted and was determined to show the new director she was wrong about him. And to do so, he was willing to sacrifice his social calendar, not to mention his sex life, in the process.

  He intended to do whatever it took to keep his job.

  Shiloh took off her glasses and rubbed her temples. Her head throbbed. She’d been pouring over agent files all day and still hadn’t made any decisions on which men would be let go, or transferred to their overseas offices. Some of their agents had been at the Department since the beginning in the early 70s and would, in her view, fight retirement.

  Hank Dawson and Nicholas Trent were their newest recruits, both starting at DNS within weeks of each other and immediately partnered together. Each had fathers who’d worked for the agency. Hank’s father had retired whereas Nick’s had been killed on the job.

  Shiloh couldn’t fault them for using their ties to get their positions, but Nick was hardly Phillip Trent––a highly revered agent, according to what she’d read.

  Her blood still boiled every time she thought of Nicholas and his ‘sexual advances’ threat. But at least she knew she could make the undeserving scoundrel regret his scheme to keep his job. His first assignment since she’d taken office was to stake out a sewage treatment plant. How utterly fitting for a man who reeked of bullshit. She hoped the stench filtered into his brain and made him realize his days at DNS were numbered.

  Shiloh rose from her desk and pushed thoughts of Nicholas Trent away. She grabbed her jacket off the back of her chair. She was going to visit her father. Days had passed since she’d seen him and she was sure he wouldn’t be happy with his only child. Especially since she’d moved him from a home where he had friends that had kept him occupied when she couldn’t be there.

  She walked down the hall to the elevator and pressed the down button. The door slid open and inside, leaning against the back wall was the man she’d been avoiding like a bad rash.

  Nicholas Trent. He wore a bright yellow Hawaiian shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans that reflected the color of his eyes. His feet were in flip-flops. On his nose was a pair of yellow-tinted sunglasses, and his hair spiked in that wet look she couldn’t figure out.

  Hardly regulation uniform, but somehow fitting––for him.

  His left brow arched when she hesitated before stepping on.

  “Afraid of being alone with me?” He grinned from ear to ear. “I know you find me hard to resist.”

  Shiloh snorted in a very unladylike fashion at his comment, then stepped inside, refusing to allow him to goad her or reveal she was intimidated by this surfer-boy.

  On the ride down she focused her attention on the door. She wouldn’t hand him any more fuel to throw on the fire.

  He cleared his throat behind her. “I wanted to thank you for the sewage plant assignment. Finally a stakeout where I can dig right in and get my hands dirty.”

  She heard the smile in his voice. Shiloh rolled her eyes. The man was insufferable.

  She turned her head slightly to look at him. “I thought it would be perfect for you, a man who smells of something foul.”

  “What? You don’t like my cologne? You could have just said something.”

  Shiloh clenched her fists in anger. “You are unbelievable. Is everything a joke to you?”

  “No, but you might want to lighten up a bit before that starchy, agent protocol manual gets stuck up your ass.”

  The elevator doors opened and he walked past her, then abruptly turned around as if he were going to apologize. “Wait, I think it’s too late,” he said instead, then swaggered off.

  Shiloh stood in the elevator doors, watching him strut toward the front entrance and noting the rip in the rear end of his jeans.

  Her mouth gaped as she inwardly seethed. Dismissal. One month and you’re out of here.

  She left the building more determined than ever to show Nicholas Trent the door.

  Nick sipped his coffee slowly then crammed another stick of Juicy Fruit gum in his mouth to block the stench in the air.

  Hank sat in the driver’s seat across from him, devouring a stale donut. How the man could eat anything with that foul odor around them was beyond Nick. He was lucky he could stomach coffee.

  “How did you talk the director into allowing you to stay at DNS, Nick? She told me that my performance record was mediocre at best and I’d probably be the first to go. I came in before you. What did you say to her that got you your reprieve?” Hank eyed him closely.

  Nick scratched his head. “I have one month to prove myself. If I haven’t by then, I’m gone. Our only option here, that I can see, is to crack a big case. And with the assignments we’re getting, I don’t see that happening.”

  “She gave me a month too, but I’m not optimistic. Why would she give us an opportunity to save our jobs, then turn around and sabotage them?”

  “It’s my fault, Hank. She hates me, and as my partner, you’re paying the price.”

  “You mean there’s a woman out there who hates Nicholas Trent? Mr. suave-beach-boy himself? No way. She probably really wants you bad, but is just playing hard to get.”

  “Oh yeah, she’s playing hard all right, hard-assed.”

  “That reminds me, I saw the director working out in the weight room a couple of nights ago and she really does have a nice ass. Real tight. She’s definitely not what you’d expect a thirty-five-year-old to look like.”

  Nick’s eyes widened. “Is that how old she is? How’d you find that out?”

  “Sandra told me. She saw it in her file.”

  Sandra? Old Iron Maiden’s secretary.

  “Why’d Sandra tell you?”

  “We’re sort of seeing each other, but don’t tell anyone. They could terminate her since they re-enacted the no fraternization clause.”

  “Right. No dating anyone from the Department.”

  Hank nodded. “Exactly.”

  “I’ve
never met anyone at the agency I’d be willing to break that clause for,” Nick said. Without invitation, a provocative image of Shiloh Templar, her ass in a pair of tight sweatpants filtered into his thoughts and wreaked havoc on his body. Damn. Obviously he needed to get laid bad – if an image of the Ice Princess caused his body to stir.

  A movement from the corner of Nick’s eye drew his attention away from the sexual imaginings. He watched closely as a shadowed figure slipped behind a building inside the plant.

  “Someone’s sneaking around inside the perimeter. Let’s go.”

  They quickly exited the car, unsnapped their holsters, retrieved their Glocks and crept around the corner of the building.

  Nick’s heart raced with a mixture of pent up adrenaline, and even more… apprehension. Danger registered full force in his mind. What if it was the alleged bomber? What if he had a gun? He’d never been in a shoot-out before, and the idea was unnerving to say the least.

  The two men made their way around the outer edge of the structure where Nick had seen the shadow disappear. With backs against the wall, they eased over to the brick building and stopped. Nick’s heart hammered wildly in his ears. A man crouched with a soda can-sized cylinder in front of him, on the ground.

  “Freeze!” Nick commanded.

  The intruder whipped around.

  Nick saw the glint of a gun barrel and heard the whine of a bullet flying past his ear before it bounced off the walls of the old building. A burning sensation sliced into his side, instantly spreading out through his body.

  He fired back at the assailant, hitting him square in the chest.

  The man fell to the ground.

  Nick looked down and watched his shirt turn bright red…then he dropped to his knees.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Shiloh brushed a thin wisp of gray hair from her father’s forehead and studied his sleeping face. He looked so peaceful—so like the man he used to be.