by Laura Acton
Picking up her purse, she pivoted and strode to the bed. Lexa pulled the covers up and over the handsome man, leaned down, and kissed him one last time. He didn’t stir at all. Eros fits you … the Greek god of sexual attraction. “Sweet dreams, Eros.”
She sedately strolled to the door, taking a last look, a smile graced her face. “I’ll never forget tonight. Amazing.” As a small pang of loss zinged across her heart which she didn’t understand, Lexa left the room.
Time to Join Another Team
9
July 15
TRF HQ – Gym – 5:15 a.m.
Lexa jogged on the treadmill keeping a fast pace. Jon required nothing less than one hundred and ten percent in pre-shift workout sessions. A hard taskmaster, but that was part of what made him an exceptional tactical lead. He gave his all and expected everyone on his team to do the same. Energized today, she had no problem giving Jon what he expected.
Last night had been … well, she wasn’t quite sure what. So out of her norm but recalling her first thoughts in the bar, she was drawn to the fire in Daniel Broderick … compelled like her proverbial moth to his flame, like she had no choice in the matter. Lexa smirked.
Yeah, I had a choice. She was strong-minded and made decisions. She chose to go to the mysterious blond man’s room and enjoy herself. No regrets. Not that I’ll go on a spree of one-night stands, but once … awesome. I have an enjoyable memory. I’ll never see him again. So, whatever attracted me to the reckless cowboy, I won’t need to sort out.
The word reckless rattled around in her brain. Yeah, he was careless. Those hostages could’ve been killed when he attacked the subjects. It’s a darned good thing he’s out of my life. But there it was again … the little pang of sadness which lanced through her when she thought of never seeing him.
Loki glanced at Lexa as she ran. He glimpsed the red mark on her neck and the smile on her face. He waggled his brows at her. “Hot date, Lexa?”
“You’ll never know.” Lexa eyed Loki.
Jon tapped his neck. “Um, what happened there?”
As he did bicep curls, Ray chuckled at the team’s razzing of Lexa.
Lexa fibbed, “Just a little burn.”
Not believing it for an instant, Bram smiled. “Those curling irons are hot.”
“Your hair is naturally wavy. You don’t use a curling iron.” Loki said as his face split into a broad grin. “Do tell. Who was it?”
“My money is on a guy whose name starts with S. Our Lexa seems to be stuck on them lately.” Jon laughed.
Ray joined the teasing. “Yeah, like Simon, Seth, Sven, Scott, Stan—”
Loki interrupted. “Skeeter! Remember Skeeter?”
“Don’t remind me about Skeeter if you want to remain bruise free, Loki,” Lexa said as she formed a fist. “Just sayin.’”
Everyone laughed as Lexa recalled Skeeter. A real sad puppy. He sent flowers, singing telegrams, candy, and a full-sized cardboard cut-out of himself trying to her to go out with him on a second date. The cut-out ended up out on the gun range, and the team used it for target practice before she sent the darned thing back to Skeeter. Amazingly she never heard from Skeeter again.
Grand Citadel Hotel – Dan’s Room – 7:00 a.m.
Dan opened his eyes slowly. He rolled to his side and stretched. His head whipped to the other side. She isn’t here. What happened?
He ran last night through his head. A smile played on the corners of his mouth. Yeah, she is sexy and excellent in bed. I must’ve pushed myself to the point of utter exhaustion if I slept through her leaving—that and probably the concussion. A small measure of guilt for not waking and telling her goodbye, thank you, or buying her breakfast, ebbed in.
His stomach growled loudly at the thought of food. His partially consumed burger was all he had eaten yesterday. Not scheduled to meet Commander Gambrill until nine this morning, he glanced at the clock and determined he had time for a long, hot shower, and a hearty breakfast.
Dan ran his hands through his longer than usual hair as he sat up. He had no chance to cut his hair in eight weeks. The sides were short and the top long enough to spike up or style as a messy look. Better this way. Not such a severe high and tight. More civilian. Yeah, civilian is better. I’m done with the military.
Moving to the bureau for boxers his eyes caught a flash of red on the desk, diverting to investigate, he found her red thong. Any doubt last night had been a dream evaporated with tangible proof. Dan picked up the note, and a grin grew as he read. Thanks for dinner. Delicious!
His smile faded. Crap, I never asked for her full name. Damn! Now I’ll never see her again. That sucks! Something deep and primal inside growled angrily demanding more than one night with her. Well, Broderick you sure know how to screw things up. Perhaps a little more thinking with your big head and you would’ve gotten sexy Lexie’s last name and number. He set her message down, grabbed his clean underwear, and strode to the bathroom.
As he turned on the shower, his aching muscles rejoiced anticipating relief. Daily showers were something he enjoyed getting used to again. Most people would find it odd that something like a simple bath felt like a luxury to him. Though after years in the field, often going without a proper washing for weeks at a time, or only having cold water, a daily warm shower was a real treat.
Dan stepped in and let the hot water run down his back, careful to keep his face out of the stream of water. He didn’t deal well with water in the face anymore—still freaked him out when water splashed him there. The steam billowed around him as he reveled in the warmth, stretching to loosen his muscles before he soaped up.
As he washed his hair, thoughts of Lexa’s silky auburn tresses filled his mind. My favorite color, so soft … never met a woman quite like her. Finding her will be next to impossible with only a first name, perhaps even a nickname. I’ll just have to savor the one excellent night we shared.
Last night was the first in seven weeks he slept through without nightmares waking him over and over. The only night he had not cried and begged Brody to help him end his pain and the first he hadn’t been all alone in this world.
Maybe, this was a sign he could start over again. The third time might be the charm. First time he started over he was sixteen and lived with Bella. Second was when he met Brody in basic training, after leaving the police force. It will be arduous, but with time I may be able to survive and make a difference while atoning in a tiny way for my terrible sins.
He managed to exist carrying the burden of his failings and remorse over Sara’s death for almost eighteen years. Perhaps I can shoulder the guilt for Brody’s death too and eventually find beauty in life and a desire to live. Dan shut off the water, toweled off, and put his boxers on. His thoughts returned to the petite lady with golden flecked hazel eyes. I experienced a small taste of beauty. Can there really be more for me? I don’t deserve it after what I did to Brody.
Before the ever-present gloominess overtook him, Dan shoved all his agonizing memories down and mechanically performed necessary ablutions. He shaved, brushed his teeth, and combed his hair. After he squared away the bathroom, he went to the main area to finish dressing.
He caught sight of his clothes on the floor. First time in twenty-two years he went to bed without picking up. The last occurrence he was five. After receiving a severe dressing down from the general for being sloppy, he always ensured his belongings stayed clean, well-ordered, and in their proper place.
A slightly rebellious part of him was tempted to leave them there as a symbolic fuck you to the general, but lifelong ingrained habits got the better of him, and he picked them up. He made the bed for the same reason, even though this was a hotel and the maids would do it—his training had been cemented at an early age.
Knowing he would be changing into a uniform today, Dan dressed casually and comfortably. He pulled on ten-year-old, but seldom worn faded jeans and a recently purchased light-gray, long-sleeved, cotton, collarless pull-over with three buttons at the
neckline. After tugging on socks, he grinned as he slipped his feet into his favorite old pair of soft leather, charcoal-gray chukka boots and tied the laces. Gambrill said TRF would supply his uniforms today, including standard issue boots, so he didn’t bother to acquire new black boots.
Shoving his wallet into his hip pocket, Dan glanced at the boxes. He didn’t have a gun safe for his pistol, so he decided to take it with him today and secure the weapon in his locker. Keeping the ivory-handled firearm out of unwanted hands wouldn’t be a problem once he found an apartment, but until then he would transport the gun back and forth.
Kneeling down, Dan lifted the lid and froze as pain tried to engulf him. He picked up the picture of him and Brody. Mason took this shortly after they joined the unit. They both look so young and innocent in the photo. If they’d known then how horrific the next six years would be and how it would end, neither would be smiling like loons.
With sadness heavy in his heart and soul, Dan reverently placed the snapshot back in the box with the few personal effects of Brody he now possessed. He wiped the tears from his eyes and clamped on his mask. Time to join another team. Hopefully, I’ll find another place to belong.
TRF HQ – Commander Gambrill’s Office – 8:30 a.m.
Sergeant Pastore entered the commander’s office after knocking. “You wanted to speak with me?”
Walter Gambrill peered up from his paperwork. “Yes. I needed to inform you Alpha Team has been scheduled for training only today. You will not be taking any critical calls.”
The strange declaration bemused Nick. Training days were scheduled as part of the standard rotations and today was not their day. “May I ask why?”
“A new member is joining TRF today,” Walter explained.
Nick wasn’t sure he heard right. “Are we training someone for one of the other teams?”
“No. You’re getting another member.”
“Teams are six.”
Walter stated firmly, “Your team is now seven.”
Tendrils of apprehension snaked around Nick. “So, we are running trials today? It isn’t a one-day process. It usually takes us three weeks to pare down the applicants. Hundreds apply. We need to ensure we select the right candidate. The wrong fit can throw off the whole team dynamic.”
Walter shook his head. “There will be no trials. Your new team member will be here at nine. I want you and the rest of the team in the briefing room in thirty minutes.”
Thrown off-kilter, Nick said, “We pick our members.” They did the trials for sensible reasons—the wrong member could be disastrous. Nick never wanted to experience what happened with a poor choice again. Once was more than enough.
Burl Henderson was the poster boy for flawed selection criteria. Burl and Jon joined TRF the same week. Two rookies training simultaneously was rare, but at first, it didn’t concern Nick. On paper, Burl, an ex-soldier, appeared to be a suitable pick. They believed his military training and discipline would be an asset. But Burl had been hot-headed, careless, and couldn’t transition from soldier to police officer. His recklessness almost ended the lives of Jon and his former tactical lead, Jason Gordon. It did cost Burl his life.
“Not this time,” Walter stated. “Inform your team and be in the room by nine. That’s all.”
“Yes, sir.” Nick controlled his anger as he strode out. Apparently, I have no say in this top-down decision. Hope it doesn’t bite us in the ass or cost us another life like Burl. This isn’t the way the TRF operates.
A seed of dissonance had been planted and began to grow. Being forced to take on a new teammate with no say stuck in his craw. Nick recognized this wouldn’t sit well with Jon either. He will be pissed and rightly so. It took Jon six months to make it back to TRF after Burl screwed up. Burl’s rash actions resulted in Jon, Jason, and Burl being shot.
The entire team isn’t going to like this one damned bit. Three strides out of the office the full awareness struck him as he recalled Gambrill’s words at Central Bank … my officer.
Son of a bitch! The commander wouldn’t stick us with Daniel Broderick, would he? Nick ripped off his hat and threw it with immense force as reality sank in. That reckless, irresponsible, cowboy is on my team whether I like it or not. Broderick’s actions nearly got all the hostages killed. This has disaster written all over it—Nick could feel it in his bones.
Into the Lion’s Den
10
July 15
TRF HQ – Briefing Room – 8:50 a.m.
As expected, Nick’s entire team exploded when he gave them the news. Well everyone except Lexa, he still needed to inform her. While the others continued to rage, he checked the clock and wished Lexa would come soon, so he had the opportunity to tell her before the new member arrived. He wanted his team to vent and compose themselves before Gambrill introduced the person he would be foisting on them.
Nick eyed Jon. His committed tactical lead took his responsibilities to heart, performing his job in a manner which allowed them all to go home safely at the end of each shift. Adding a member this way, taking their choice away, presented an unacceptable risk to the team and as predicted, Jon brought up Burl in his rant.
The most surprising feedback came from the team’s gentle giant. Though, perhaps Bram’s reaction shouldn’t come as a surprise. Jon and Bram had been friends long before either joined TRF. Bram helped Jon rehabilitate after Jon got shot due to Burl’s actions. Bram functioned as their point-man on most entries so he would be the one most likely affected by rash actions. Plus, Bram’s wife and four little girls waited for him to come home each day. Given those facts, his teddy bear combat specialist became more of a grizzly bear.
Loki vehemently protested no one should be allowed a shortcut into the TRF. Peeved someone would waltz in with no effort and bypass the normal process. Loudly pointing out they all worked hard, tried out, and had been voted onto the team based on their skill set and rapport with the existing team. He complained they had no information with regard to Broderick’s skills and insinuated the man used high-level connections to weasel his way into TRF. Nick conceded Loki had valid points but could tell he fed off Jon’s reaction.
Ray remained mellow, as usual, but he didn’t appear pleased either as he listened to what Jon said about Burl.
“What position is he going to be?” Ray asked.
Nick shook his head. “No clue. The commander didn’t provide me any details. So, as I said, it may not be Broderick. I only shared my thoughts.”
Jon barked, “Damned well better not be that hot-headed idiot. It is bad enough we’re having someone forced on us. I don’t want anyone who takes unacceptable risks and doesn’t think. The subjects had a remote detonator. Broderick’s irresponsible actions nearly got everyone blown to bits—us included. If it’s Broderick, Nick, you need to transfer him. We don’t want him and don’t need a seventh member. Team is six. We choose!”
TRF HQ – Dispatcher’s Desk – 8:50 a.m.
Dan exited the stairwell in the Toronto Metro Police Tactical Response Force Headquarters ten minutes ahead of schedule. He lived by the adage, early is on-time, on-time is late, and late is unacceptable. So, he always planned to arrive a couple minutes early. Approaching the desk, Dan hid his nervousness behind his stoic mask.
Alan glanced up at the unknown man who used the stairs rather than the elevator. Odd. “May I help you?”
Holding himself stiffly and erect, Dan said, “Constable Broderick reporting to Commander Gambrill for a zero nine hundred appointment.”
Studying the impassive man before him, Alan wondered at the military bearing and terms. He waved to a few chairs outside the central briefing area. “Take a seat over there. I will inform the commander you’re here.”
“Thanks.” Dan marched over to the chairs as outraged voices in the large room wafted out. As he reached the waiting area, Dan overheard the harsh words.
TRF HQ – Conference Room Three – 8:59 a.m.
Lexa sat silently in the soundproof room
listening to Inspector Griffiths. When he finished, she responded, “Yes, sir. I did meet Sven Offerdahl in the Grand Citadel Hotel bar a little after eight thirty last night. I counted at least four sake bombs on his table, and he presented an inebriated countenance with garbled and slurred speech.
“He became verbally and physically offensive as he groped my breast. I reacted professionally to restrain him, as trained. I explained to him he needed to find a more constructive way to deal with the stress of being a firefighter, instructed him to leave the premises in a cab, and not to contact me again. He staggered out. I haven’t seen him since.”
Griffiths nodded. “Your account is corroborated by others in the bar. I only needed your statement for the record. No assault charges will be filed against you, Constable McKenna. If you would like to file charges against Mr. Offerdahl, you would be within your rights.”
“Not necessary. If there is nothing more, I need to be getting back to work.”
“Nothing further. Thank you for your time,” the Inspector said and stood.
Lexa stood and left the room. It boggled her mind Sven filed a complaint against her for taking him down. Geez, I’m not having any luck with men. The only ones I trust whole-heartedly are the Boss, Jon, Loki, Bram, and Ray. All others let me down in one way or another. Perhaps it’s time to date a guy whose name doesn’t start with S. Maybe men with first names beginning with D, especially if they’re as hot as Daniel and excel in bedroom sports.
Realizing she needed to hurry, almost nine now, Lexa shelved her thoughts and took a shortcut. She didn’t want to be late for Gambrill’s announcement, whatever it might be. Figuring she was cutting it close, she decided to slip in through the small secondary door connecting conference room two with the main one to facilitate her entrance without drawing attention. Curiosity grew as she hurried onward, Boss had not elaborated on the reason for the meeting with the commander.