In the deep dark hills of eastern Kentucky, that's the place where I trace my blood line. And it's there I read on a hillside grave stone: You'll never leave Harlan alive.
"Where the sun comes up, about ten in the morning.." she sang along with the song falling out of her truck's stereo. She had her ipod hooked up to it. She thought it was fitting. She thought she'd blown that dump years ago but now she was back. She was torn. As much as she hated that town, she was relieved to be back.
The last time she saw this place she was seventeen. She felt so old. It was so different from where she had been but somehow it was still so familiar. Brandi drove down the long gravel road through the trees, around the bends, until she came upon a clearing. An old house sat near the middle and the gravel road went past it. if it was followed, one would end up at an abandoned stable and then a barn, before the road looped back around to form a small circle.
She stopped her truck and opened her door. She stood but didn't hop off the truck. Brandi looked around. The house was still standing. That goddamn house was still standing. Ivy was crawling up it and the bushes seemed to take over it. Other than that, it just needed new paint and a good wash it seemed. She turned her gaze to the abandoned stables. The door was hanging off it and there was a small hole in the roof, but it was still better off than the barn. The barn's paint had faded. It used to be bright red and was now a reddish brown and half the roof had completely caved in. She would have to fix that, she supposed.
Brandi grabbed her old suitcase from her car and threw her duffle bag over her shoulder and headed up the front porch steps. After ten years, the house seemed alright. She tested each board and found a few that needed to be replace. Some were warped and some had fallen in. She stuck the keys into the front door and pushed it open. It creaked and she made a mental note to fix that as well.
The screen door slammed shut behind her and she stood in the hall. The stairs that lead upstairs were dull and dusty. Wall paper lining the stairwell and halls were peeling and stained. In some rooms, old furniture was covered in white clothes and some windows that were missing glass were boarded up. Brandi climbed up the steps to her old room. It was completely empty. There was no furniture, no bed, no dresser, no nothing. Just the creaky wooden floor and an empty closet. Brandi smiled softly to herself and set her bags down on the dull floor. She shook her head.
"Thanks, mom."
"Tim, can I see you in my office for a second?" Art called from his door. Tim looked over at Raylan and Rachel before standing and heading into Art's office. "Have a seat." Tim did as he was told. Art sat at his own desk and leaned back. "How long you been here in this office?" He asked. Tim took a minute confused to think.
"About ten months. Why?" Tim asked. Art looked at him for a second.
"You feel confidant enough to take a rookie under your wing?" Art asked. Tim looked at Art. "She's fresh out of training and I want someone to show her the ropes and keep her out of trouble."
"You mean she needs a babysitter?" Tim asked, leaning back in the seat. "And Raylan and Rachel can't because…?"
"Well, I figured you two would have more in common." Art said with a small shrug and mischievous grin. Tim eyed him, wary. "She's just got out of the military and then she jumped right into training, might need help adjusting back to civilian life." Art explained, letting a serious expression take over his features. Tim nodded. He knew how much of a challenge that could be.
"Yeah, I'll show her around." Tim said. "She comin' in today?" He asked and stood. Art stood as well and looked at his watch. "She should be here in an hour or so. I'm gonna put her in the spare desk next to you. The one near my office."
"Sounds good." Tim said, sounding unimpressed.
"She shouldn't be too much trouble." Art said. Tim lifted his eyebrows quickly before dropping them. It was a whatever you say expression.
You wouldn't think she'd be so nervous. Then again, the last time she was here she was seventeen and she wasn't in the good graces of the man in charge. That tends to happen when you go cow tipping on his property and let loose a very pissed off bull. Luckily for her, that man has long since retired and now Art Mullen is in charge.
Brandi Calhoun inhaled and exhaled before opening the door to her truck and stepping out into the sunlight. Watching her step out of the truck is almost comical. Brandi is a short young woman but she had plenty of muscle and curves. She was toned and her posture made her seem taller, but she was only five one. She pulled her crazy curly brown hair into a tight ponytail and kept her papers in her hands. They were her assignment papers, her resume, her medical papers, too. Even her psych evals were in there. They liked to be thorough, it made it easier for everyone.
Brandi made her way inside, went through security and made her way upstairs. She hopped off the elevator and walked into the open office area. Before she was even three steps off the elevator, her eyes were looking for two things. A) all possible exits and B) all possible threats. Brandi is always uncomfortable with new places, even before the military. The military just made her dislike for them increase.
As she took a few more steps inside, she looked around at the people. Specifically she was looking for someone to give her directions. The woman to her right was at her desk, writing something down. She was a black woman with a soft face and firm eyes. Brandi stood infront of her desk and leaned in slightly.
"Excuse me." She said, catching the woman's attention. "I'm looking for Art Mullen's office. Can you tell me where that is?" The woman smiled and pointed.
"It's right there. Is he expecting you?" She asked.
"Yes, ma'am." Brandi said, face relaxed. The woman in front of her smiled.
"You can just go in." She said kindly. Brandi offered her a friend smile and a thank you. She straightened up and started walking. She walked passed a bored looking cowboy and then past a blonde man staring intently at his screen. Once she came into his line of sight, is cold blue eyes went straight to her like a magnet. He looked at her and met her dark, hard brown eyes. She kept her face blank and stared right back at him as she walked. His hand held his chin and one finger was curled in front of his mouth but she could tell he wasn't smiling. His face was as blank as hers. She stopped in front of his desk.
"Can I help you?" She asked. He let his hand fall to his desk.
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" He said.
"Your coworker has already helped me." Brandi said firmly.
"Then why are you still standing here?" Tim asked.
"Why are you staring me down like I'm about to pull a gun?" She countered, not enjoying the scrutiny.
"Brandi." Art called from his office with a small smile on his face. The woman who helped her and the bored cowboy were now looking her way, curious. Art leaned against his door. "I thought you'd be here a bit later." Brandi turned away from Tim and looked at Art.
"I have a lead foot." She said absolutely deadpan. Art looked at her with a blank face before both had grins etched across their faces. Art was laughing silently to himself and Brandi was smiling, trying to ignore the holes being burned into her head by a certain blonde gentleman.
"Come on in, Brandi." Art said. Brandi followed him in and sat when she was told to. She handed over her papers and sat back as Art read them over. "Well, you even included your psych evals. How considerate." Art said. Brandi looked at him, her face blank once more. "I remember the last time you were sitting in this office you were shaking in your boots." Art said.
"I do to." Brandi said. "Never thought I'd be here for a job." She added with a small smile. Art chuckled to himself.
"Your momma would be turning in her grave if she knew." Art said.
"I hope she is." Brandi told him. Art looked at her, humor gone from his expression.
"Why are you here, Brandi?" Art asked. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but you could be assigned to any state you want, and you chose here? Why?" He asked. Brandi looked at the man she had seen as a father for the last few years she lived in Kentucky. He looked so confused and lost. Brandi exhaled and thought very carefully on her next choice of words. After a brief pause she figured out what she wanted to say.
"I needed to come home." She said. "It was time to come home." Art stared her down and she held his gaze.
"But why?" He asked. "You ain't got no more family, you don't have anyone here. You're not telling me something, Brandi. Why aren't you talkin' to me?" He asked. The pleading tone of his voice made her want to break down and tell him everything. She wanted to tell someone.
"I just needed to come back to Lexington." She said. Art looked at her. She wasn't answering the question. Art opened his mouth to ask a question, but Brandi stopped him. "Art, I'm not in trouble. I swear." She said and paused. Art looked at her, urging her to go on. "I just need to be somewhere familiar for a while. Virginia wasn't really working out." Art sighed.
"I'm not gonna get any more from you am I?" Art asked.
"There is nothing more to tell." She answered quickly, automatically. She used the same tone of voice she used when she was little, insisting the bruises on her face were from a horse, not her mother. Art smiled and stood. He walked past her and she stood, intending to follow but he stopped at his door and leaned out.
"Tim, can you come in here again for a minute?" Art said. Brandi sighed when she saw the blond guy who kept staring at her step in. He nodded at her with a smirk and Art closed the door and walked back to his desk. "Brandi Calhoun, this is Tim Gutterson. Tim, this is Brandi, the woman I spoke to you about earlier." The two looked at each other and shook hands. Tim was almost surprised at how firm her hand shake was. Although after a look over her, he wasn't surprised.
"Art tells me you're ex military." Tim says. Brandi nodded. "Always a pleasure to meet a fellow soldier. Where you serve?" He asked, trying to make polite conversation.
"Iraq, mostly." She said. "You?"
"Little bit of Iraq, bit of Afghanistan. What branch?" Tim asked.
"Marine infantry." Brandi told him, eyeing him up and down. "What did you do?"
"Army Ranger." Tim said. "I was a sniper." He added. Brandi blinked, almost startled and felt a throb in her shoulder. She could hear the gunshot in her head. It took her a second, but she blinked away the memory. Her shoulder was stiff and she brought her hand up in front of her chest and flexed her hand. She hummed, letting him know she had heard him.
"He still is. He's our sniper now, though." Art said and sat down. "Brandi, Tim is gonna show you the ropes for a while and go with you on all outings. You need something, you talk to him. Tim, be sure to show her the ropes, and make sure she plays by the book, please. I don't need another Raylan." Art told them. The two nodded and Art dismissed them. Tim held the door open for her like the gentleman he is and showed her to her desk.
"Ok, here's your desk. Mine's right there." He said pointing to his own desk. "That sulking cowboy fella is Raylan." He said and lowered his voice, facing her again. "I'd stay away from him unless you wanna be sitting in Art's office a lot." After that he spoke in his normal voice. "Rachel is next to him, I think she's the one who helped you out earlier. Ok, if you just have a seat, we'll get your computer all set up and I'll show you what you need to know." He said.
Brandi pulled out her chair and sat down. She draped her tan coat over the back and her forest green polo shirt had sleeves that stopped just below her shoulders. Tim rested his hand on the back of her chair and leaned towards her computer, his other hand resting on her desk. Immediatley, she felt trapped and her breathe damn near caught in her throat. He was too close and she was trapped against a wall.
"Tim." She said quietly but firmly. He looked at her with a hum of acknowledgement and saw she was staring at the screen like it was gonna set on fire. "You need to back off." She said firmly. Tim looked at her posture and tense muscles and understood. He nodded and stood up straight, removing his hands and stepping back.
"Sorry." He apologized and grabbed his own chair, wheeling over next to her. She didn't feel so closed in now and her shoulders started to relax. "Alright, first things first, you need your log in." Tim gave her all her needed passwords and she wrote them down on a memo pad. He showed her all the databases they used and showed her how to look people up and other information. He had her do it a few times on her own to make sure she had a good understanding of what was going on.
Tim found she learned quickly and got a handle on the databases and protocols and procedures. He even covered the procedures for the work they do out side of the office. She had a good understanding of everything and Tim felt comfortable with her abilities but wondered how she would do out in the field. Art would probably giver her a few days to settle in before she's sent out, though.
Before long Tim was back at his desk doing whatever paperwork he needed to get done. He had a file open and decided to have her do some general paper pushing work so she can get in th swing of things. The two sat in silence, typing away. Rachel had made her way over and introduced herself to Brandi. The two spoke briefly and pleasantly. Brandi liked Rachel.
Art sent Raylan and Rachel out before she could meet him. Eventually, Tim got bored and started playing solitaire. Brandi just kept at it. Around four o'clock, Art and Tim got called away to clean up after Raylan. Brandi stayed behind so she didn't get tangled in the mess. Instead, she volunteered to go grab everyone some dinner since it was gonna be a late night. No one argued.
She didn't get much, just some burgers and sodas and two of those family sized bags of chips. She was sitting at her desk, taking the phone calls for her coworkers and taking messages. It was a slow evening for her and she didn't mind it. She had set the food in the conference room and the office was fairly empty. After she ran out of paper work, she made coffee and ended up playing solitaire. Her books were still in Virginia. Around seven was when everyone came back. Art looked ready to kill Raylan.
She pointed out the food and they went and helped themselves. She had already eaten. She ended up leaving around eight. Brandi had nothing more to do so she went home. SHe still had things to unpack.
By the time she got home, the sun was down and she could hear the cicadas in the trees. When she jumped out of her truck, she was truck by how quiet it was. Brandi almost missed the hum of Virginia. Here, back home, she felt isolated, almost lost. But this was where she grew up, and no matter how hard she tried, she would never forget her way around.
ONce in the door, she turned on the front porch light. She was grateful that whoever was in charge of the house while she was gone at least kept the plumbing and electricity going. It was probably the only thing she didn't have to worry about.
She tugged her sleeping bag out of her truck and brought it inside. She unrolled it in her own room and started going through her things. The first thing she pulled out was a picture frame that could fold up and hold three separate pictures. In one of the end panels, a picture captured a moment she shared with her childhood friend. The woman's name was Maura. They were young in the picture and sitting on Maura's car. Maura was in shorts while Brandi was in ripped jeans and a tank top. Maura had a bikin top on. They had driven down to a lake and snuck some booze out of Brandi's mom's liquor cabinet. Brandi smiled when she remembered maura pushing her into the water.
The picture on the other end showed her with a small group of people. They were her friends from her time in the military. They all had funny poses and one of them had picked her up and put her on his shoulders. Someone else had a blonde woman sitting on his shoulders too. One man was sitting on the ground and another put his foot on the man's shoulder, depicting captain morgan. Brandi laughed. She had almost forgotten about them. She smiled sadly and ran a finger over the picture. Most of them were dead now.
The picture in the middle almost always made her feel like tearing up. The middle picture was the only picture she had left of her brother, Leo. The picture was of Leo leaning against his old ford. He had blonde hair and bright blue eyes and his smile could light up the world. His face was covered in soot and he was wearing his mining uniform. She missed him dearly.
Brandi sighed and set the photos down before pulling out her electronics and chargers. SHe plugged them into the wall but set her alarm on her phone. Next she hopped into a warm shower and tried to relax. She focused on breathing. It was so weird living alone. Brandi couldn't remember the last time she lived alone. She breathed in and out slowly, calming herself down. Being alone like this was such a foreign feeling to her now. Of course she had felt like this when she first enlisted, but it quickly passed as she made friends. This too shall pass. She thought to herself with a small grin.
She slipped into her sweatpants and a grey shirt and slid into the sleeping bag. Her arms wrapped around her sore ribcage and she breathed. She was home in Kentucky. She was safe here, she had to believe that.
"Christ Almighty, Brandi." Art said as he walked into the office at seven. Brandi looked at him innocently. "How long you been here?" He asked as he walked over to her desk.
"Since five thirty." sHe said.
"Good lord." He said. "The only reason I'm here is so I can get some work done before Raylan makes another mess. Why the hell are you here so early?" Art asked. Brandi shrugged.
"Just enjoying the quiet for now. Answering phones, too. You got two more. I wrote them down and left them on your desk." She told him. Art sighed and looked at her.
"Morning, Art." Tim said as he walked in. "Morning, Brandi." Art nodded and headed into his office. Tim saw the empty cup of coffee on her desk and frowned. "Jesus, how long you been here?" He asked.
"Five thirty." Brandi sighed.
"And people tell me I'm an early riser." Tim said as he set his things down. "You make coffee?" He asked. She nodded and stood.
"I'm gonna go get some myself. Want me to get yours?" She asked. Tim shook his head. "Promise I won't poison it." She offered.
"Nah, I'll get some in a minute." He said. Brandi shrugged and walked away. Brandi returned to see Art about to leave again.
"Brandi, you eat yet?" HE asked.
"No, everything was closed." She said.
"Alright, I'm going to get us some food. " Art said. "You want anything?" He asked.
"Sure, you know what I like." Brandi said. Art nodded and left and Brandi sat at her desk. "So, what do we have going on today? Anything scheduled?" She asked as she leaned back in her chair. Tim looked at his computer as he answered. He looked at his computer so intently all the time, Brandi wondered if that was how he naturally looked.
"You and I got a prisoner transport today at ten." Tim answered. "Art wants to start you off easy." Brandi nodded and sipped her coffee.
"Who is it?" She asked curiously.
"I'm pulling up his picture now." Tim said. Brandi walked over to his desk and looked.
"Ain't he a big fella." Brandi said. Tim snorted. "What he do?"
"Well, he started out as a car theif as far as we know, but once he got into prison, he's been killing inmates left and right. We're moving him to a max security prison about two hours away." Tim explained with a sigh.
"Art's fine with just the two of us?" Brandi asked, surprised, raising her eyebrows.
"You think we should have another person?" Tim asked. Brandi shook her head.
"Nah, just didn't think Art would want a rookie dealing with this guy on their first day." Brandi answered. SHe wasn't scared, she knew what she could handle, but Art didn't.
"Well," Tim said quietly. "technically this is your second day." Brandi rolled her eyes and went back to her own desk. She looked at her coworker and got a really good look at him. His blond hair stuck up in the front and looked to be combed back almost. His blue eyes stared at the computer screen and he had his hand in front of his mouth just like yesterday. He had on a light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up and khakis. It was a casual outfit and Brandi found herself relieved at her outfit choice. She had jeans on and a white button up shirt. Brandi also had her sleeves rolled up. Rachel's suit had thrown her off and Brandi considered going out and buying one just in case.
People started coming in around eight or so. Raylan, the cowboy, came in last. Brandi was on edge with the prisoner in the other room, but when was she not on edge? THis guy was loud and arrogant, but it almost seemed forced. He was up to something, but BRandi shook off the notion. SHe was overthingking it.
The two guards were standing at the door and there was no way he could get out of that room, but every so often, she would stare at the guards and the door. Apparently he was there to fight being sent to a max security prison.
Brandi watched as Raylan and Art stood with a lawyer talking about how Raylan may want to get his lawyer for their meeting. Brandi wondered what Raylan had done to get into so much trouble. When Art and Raylan went into Art's office, she checked her time. It was quarter to nine, they would have to head out in a minute.
"Should we get going?" Brandi asked. Tim nodded.
"Yeah, just gonna finish up something and we'll head out." He said. "Whose car do you wanna take?" He asked, not looking up from his computer as he typed.
"We can take mine." Brandi said as she stood. "I'm gonna go get some coffee for the road." Tim hummed in response and Brandi kept her eyes trained on the inmate being escorted. He was making a fuss about having to take a dump. He unnerved her. Something about him was just off. It was probably the chains and bright orange jumpsuit.
Brandi returned to her desk and pulled out her gun and badge, clipping them onto her belt. Tim was still staring at his screen and Brandi almost wanted to snort. She put a lid on her to go mug and reached for her tan coat when a commotion across the room caught her attention. She saw one of the guards get tossed to the ground and she reached for her gun. Tim was two steps ahead of her with his gun drawn and shooting away from his desk. Brandi watched as the prisoner put a weapon to the second guard's neck.
"Drop the weapon!" Tim ordered as everyone around the office was running around and pulling out their guns. She was behind Tim on his right with her own gun raised and aiming. "Let him go!" Tim ordered. She saw Raylan out of the corner of her eye leave Art's office. In an instant everyone had their guns raised and a few were shouting orders. Brandi kept still. She thought back to all the training she had done in the military and when training to be a marshall.
The prisoner kept closing the doors and threatening to cut the guard as people kept shouting orders. Brandi watched as Raylan and Art moved to an open door way, looking to see if they could get a good visual on the prisoner. Brandi was still as a statue, watching the doors.
"Alright, let's lower the weapons, and don't raise them again unless I say otherwise." Art ordered. Everyone slowly began putting their guns down or away. Brandi put the safety back on and lowered hers, she didn't want to put it away yet, and neither did her coworkers. "Let's clear this office, make sure there are no civilians. Rachel call Washington, tell them we need a SOC team down her." Art began ordering. "Brandi, call the jail and tell them to reschedule the prisoner transport for tomorrow." Brandi nodded and went to her desk. She had a list of numbers taped to her desk. She scanned the list and found the number she needed. She was on the phone and dialing. She took the time to pull her hair back into a ponytail. If she needed to shoot, she wanted to make sure her hair was out of her face.
Her heart was pumping fast in a familiar way. It was the adrenaline making it's way through her system. It was almost calming. She could think clearly and stay focused like this. She had a sense of duty and had a job to do.
She was on the phone with the prison and telling them what they needed to know. Just the bare minimum, that something came up and they were unable to do he transport today. The man on the phone wasn't happy but didn't argue too much. Art began talking to the prisoner and Brandi saw the lawyer walk back into the room. Wasn't he a civilian, too?
Brandi could hear the prisoner shouting at Art and she heard something being moved around. It was something heavy. Raylan disappeared into the room and Art came back out. Art took off his jacket and set it on Rachel's desk as he messed with his holster. He was talking to the lawyer, Vasquez, she heard.
Brandi was finally able to hang up after having heard the man on the other end chew her out and complain about having to deal with the prisoner they really wanted to get rid of. She walked back over to where she originally stood and kept an eye on the doors. She flinched when Tim tapped her arm, getting her attention. He ran into the conference room and she followed. Art wanted eyes in that room, see if they could get a visual. He had the blinds closed though.
Brandi stopped when she heard a door open and doubled back two steps. Though the glass she could see the guard's head being stuck out of the door. Art was in the doorway near her and they listened as Raylan and the prisoner talked back and forth. She scowled when he saw Raylan put his gun away. That was risky.
Brandi could hear Tim stepping away from the window in the conference room and Raylan looked over at them. She stayed where he was.
"How'd you get that shiv in there?" Raylan asked.
"Keistered it." The prisoner said proudly. Raylan repeated him with a small smile.
"Now I'm really glad I'm not the one with the shiv in my face." He said. Brandi sighed silently when the prisoner shut the door. Art came fully into the conference room then.
"We need eyes in there." Art said. "Tim, go get the equipment." Tim nodded and left. "Brandi, see if you can do something about the air vent, but don't take it off the wall completely." Brandi nodded and looked up. She wondered if she would be tall enough. Art started giving other orders but she tuned them out. She pulled over a chair and reached up to make sure she could touch the vent. Art handed her his knife and she slid it into the slot and started bending the metal things in the vent. Tim returned and handed her the cord. She started to feed it through.
"Little to the left." Tim said quietly. He was looking at a screen it was set up to and directing her. Once they had a good view he tapped the chair. "Ok, stop. That's good." He said quietly. They kept their voices low so they don't alert the prisoner of what was going on. Tim stuck out his hand. Brandi grabbed his outstretched hand and carefully stepped of the desk. She nodded in thanks and their attention focused on the screen.
They watched as the prisoner moved things around, emptied lockers. He started talking to Raylan again, asking if he'd had any experience with hostage situation. Raylan admitted he didn't.
"Hey, Brandi." Rachel said to her. Rachel waved her over. "Need a fresh pair of eyes. Trying to see if anything can help us." She explained. Brandi walked over and looked through the file. She looked at the health records first, see if he was dying or if he had a condition that kept him relying on medicine. There was nothing. What next?
"What kind of tattoos?" Brandi asked. Tattoos have meaning sometime. "Any pictures?" Rachel hummed and flipped through, looking for the pictures.
"Here are the pictures, the list should be in here somewhere." Rachel said as she slid over the pictures. They were just mug shots. Rachel slid over the list and kept pulling out the pictures of each tattoo. "Look at this." Rachel said and slid over a picture of the man's chest.
"Simone?" Brandi said. "She in the file? A wife or daughter or something?" Rachel looked through it and shook her head. She called over Raylan. "Tattooed on his chest, gotta be someone special." Brandi watched as Raylan left, thinking about what Rachel just told him.
Brandi listened as Raylan and the prisoner talked about Simone. The longer he talked the more Brandi hated the man. She held her breath when she saw him kicking the man that was on the floor. Her ribs ached with sympathy. She closed her eyes for a second and breathed in before sighing. She opened her eyes to see Tim was staring at her with the same face she had. It was blank. Both had neutral faces. Only Rachel was really showing any emotion and that was just a slight purse of the lips. Then they started talking about chicken.
Brandi looked at the clock on the wall. It was well past noon by now. She was almost hungry, but she was more concerned about the situation at hand. Art sharply called for Raylan. She saw Tim moving for Art's office and followed. She lingered in the door way, waiting for orders. Tim hovered near the second door.
"Local SWAT team is fifteen minutes out." Art said and handed something to Raylan.
"Lexington SWAT?" Raylan asked with a face that looked like he stepped in dog shit.
"Yeah, so you know how that's gonna play." Art said.
"Just like everywhere else I worked at. Not too big on talkin'." Raylan said. Art hummed and nodded.
"So you know once they get here they're gonna start shooting." Art said.
"I think there's still a chance this ends without anybody dying." Raylan argued. Art looked at him.
"You got fifteen minutes." Art said. Raylan looked at his watch.
"Is there any way we can get some fried chicken up in here?" He asked. Brandi frowned. Is he serious? Art seemed to share the same confusion.
"Fried chicken?" He asked, making sure he heard right.
"Spicy." Raylan specified. Brandi shifted her weight and scowled, confused. Tim looked over to her and smirked at her expression.
"You think spicy fried chicken's gonna bring him out?" Art asked.
"If what he's lookin' for is a way out that doesn't require him to admit he's scared to die…" Raylan explained. Art sighed. The lawyer, Vasquez, sitting on the couch spoke up.
"Hell why don't we give it a shot?" He suggested. Brandi blinked. They can't be serious. Art shook his head.
"Tim go get some." He ordered. Brandi looked at everyone exasperated. They started pooling in some cash. Vasquez and Art started handing Tim some cash. Tim took it and started out the door. Brandi saw him grab his keys and she ran after him. She caught up with him in the elevator. He frowned.
"What are you doing?" He asked as she hit the button that closed the doors.
"You grabbed your car keys, that means you planned on driving." She pointed out. "That'll take too much time. There's a chicken place two blocks down and around the corner. Dealing with cars are gonna take too much time."
"And you're gonna show me the way." Tim finished. She hummed. "How do you know this is quicker?" Tim asked as he leaned against the wall. Brandi smiled.
"I've done my fair share of chicken runs." She answered. Tim straightened up when the elevator dinged. "Hope you can run." Brandi said. The moment the doors opened, the two took off like a bat out of hell. Brandi ran as fast as she could, sprinting. Tim was able to keep up with her easily. Her blood pumped faster and faster as adrenaline coursed through her. THis is what she missed, this rush.
They took off down the two blocks and Tim followed her when she turned. He could see he sign for Zippy's and ran past her into the restaurant. He had his badge out in a flash and Brandi ran in after him.
"That's the last order for today." The man said as Tim ran in back.
"I'll take it." He said.
"Like hell you will!" The man said as he started towards Tim. Tim just brushed past him and grabbed the chicken and left the money.
"That should cover it." He said as he walked away. He also told the man to bill the Marshal's if there wasn't enough.
"What do I tell the customer?" He asked.
"Tell them the U.S. Marshal's Service thanks them for their patriotism." Brandi said and held to door open, following Tim out the door.
"Thanks." Tim said and nodded at her before the two took off down the street again. They were back there in a matter of minutes. Tim had tucked the food under his arm like a football and they sprinted back. They took the stairs two at a time.
"That chicken smells amazing right now." Brandi said as they climbed up. Tim smirked.
"I'm sure they won't notice if you take a piece." He joked. Brandi snorted. Tim showed his badge when they hit the floor they needed and Brandi followed him. She stopped following him right outside the bullpen. The room was filled with men in armor, holding weapons aimed at the room where the convict was. Tim kept walking, he had chicken to deliver. Brandi made her way around the men and into Art's office. Tim came into Art's office looking for something.
"Bourbon, where is it?" Tim asked. Art pulled it out of its hiding spot and handed it to Tim. Tim nodded and took it back into the conference room. It took a few minutes, but Raylan got the man to give himself up. The SWAT team filed in and took him down. It was quick and went off without issue. Once they hauled him away, Brandi left Art's office and went to her own desk. She almost put her gun back in its drawer but decided against it. She was more comfortable with it on her hip after the day's events.
"Hell of a first day." Tim said as he stopped next to her desk. She hummed and nodded and sat in her seat. She rested her arms on her desk and leaned forward and turned her head to look at Tim. "You hangin' in ok?" He asked, almost sounding bored. Brandi sighed through her nose and watched him for a second, thinking of what she wanted to say.
"Tim," she began. He looked at her with a smug smile, waiting for her to continue. "I know you are just asking that because you were told that I am your responsibility. And you know, that it's going to take more than that to get me all frazzled." Tim did one of those silent, single chuckles. "So why are you really asking me that?" Tim kept his smirk on his face and looked at her. She was gonna fit right in.
"I got a lot of paper work goin' on right now and seeing as you were practically my shadow today-" He began Brandi quirked an eyebrow and stuck her hand out.
"Gimme." She said with a sigh. Tim smiled and put it in her hand.
"You're gonna get along here just fine." Tim said with a smile.
"Well, I'm just assuming that one day down the line, I'm gonna be up to my ass in paperwork and you're gonna be a knight in shining armor and gonna offer to do some for me." Brandi said as she leaned back and turned her chair to face him, small smile on her face. Tim snorted as he began doing more paper work. "And I don't really have anything better to do." She admitted and turned to deal with her new task. Tim chuckled again.
"Don't worry, that don't last long here." He said. Brandi hummed. "Well, at least tomorrow will be a slow day." He added.
"What, with the transport?" Brandi asked. Tim nodded.
"Yup, usually they go pretty smooth." Tim told her. Brandi hummed. She wasn't too concerned if it goes alright or not. She came here to do a job, and she would do that job.
Brandi had settled in quickly and was doing well. Brandi found she liked Rachel. Rachel was a strong woman who didn't take shit from anyone. Raylan wasn't a bad guy but he seemed to completely disregard any rules or guidelines set up. He was a wild card. Wild cards always spelled bad news, so Brandi made sure to keep her distance. But other than that, she didn't mind him. Art was Art. He hadn't changed much from when she last saw him. A few days after the whole hostage situation, her and Art caught up and had a few drinks.
He was proud of her, proud of what she had accomplished. And he told her. Hearing those words from him meant the world to her, but she also felt bad about keeping him in the dark. But she just couldn't bring herself to tell him. She doubted he'd be proud of her if he knew what happened. When her father died, and things got bad at home, she had come across his path several times. He was the one who had seen her potential. He was the one who kept her in school for as long as she was. Art kept her out of trouble as much as he could. She had seen him as a father figure when she had none. Art got her out of Kentucky and for that she would be forever grateful. Which is why she was so torn about keeping him in the dark. SHe felt as if she owed him an explanation for returning after he had worked so hard to get her out of there.
She got along with Tim, but she wasn't too sure where she stood with him. Sure, he was nice, sarcastic, too. But he was also really good at answering a question without actually answering it. Although, Brandi didn't really ask him much. She quickly found her coworkers to become friends, even went so far as to go out for drinks one night after a particularly long day, but she wasn't too sure if they were actually friends.
Tim wasn't too sure where he stood with Brandi, either. They got along fine, had similar humor and she kept to herself. She had no personal items on her desk and never mentioned family. Never mentioned anything personal either. Tim could only recall one time she mentioned working as a marine. And that came up after she took down a man twice her size without a gun. IT was impressive to see someone so small take down a fully grown man and Tim had asked her about it later, asked if she learned that in the military. She had nodded and seemed to freeze up.
Their encounters with each other were professional and vague, so it was difficult for the both of them to see where they stood with each other. But neither seemed to mind. They were comfortable where they were. But there was curiosity.
Brandi didn't mention anything personal for a while. It wasn't until she hit her third week there. She had been bouncing in her seat all day, like she couldn't wait for the day to end. It was different than her usual stance on work.
"What's got you so riled up?" Rachel had asked towards the end of the day. She perched herself on Brandi's desk and handed her the woman's fourth cup of coffee in the hour.
"Don't give her anymore," Raylan teased. "She'll blast off like the Tazmanian Devil." He said without looking up from his computer. Brandi ignored him, not letting him ruin her rare good mood. She smile done of her small smiles at Rachel.
"I'm meeting up with an old friend for dinner." Brandi said and Rachel was listening.
"That's what's got you wound up?" She asked, teasing. Brandi shook her head.
"I'm also meeting my God-daughter." Brandi said. Rachel smiled at her new coworker. "My friend had a baby about a year ago and I'm going to go see her for the first time."
"Someone made you a god mother?" Tim asked. "Should we call social services?" Brandi just sighed and threw him an annoyed look.
"Oh let the girl be excited." Rachel said with a small smile. Then she turned to Brandi with a semi serious face. "You better come back with pictures." The threatened. Brandi smiled and swore she would. When it was time to go home, Brandi was out the door the moment she was free. She met her friend at a little diner and her smile was brighter than it had been in months. She hugged her friend tightly.
"Maura, it's been so long." She said as she hugged her friend tightly.
"Well, I'm not the one who ran off and joined the military." Maura teased and stepped back. She grabbed brandi's arms and looked her over. "Look at you, a Marshal. I would have thought for sure you'd be in jail."
"And yet I'm still the God mother of your child." Brandi said and sat down at the table. She smiled at the baby in its little seat. "She's beautiful." Brandi said. Maura smiled.
"Wanna hold her?" Maura offered and lifted her daughter. Brandi smiled and took her. The two women talked and Brandi bounced the child on her leg. She was never motherly but she loved this child like it was her own. She almost didn't want to give her back.
The two ate and talked and just relaxed. Brandi caught Maura up on her excursions except for the past few months. Maura had just been working and she settled down with a man about two years ago. Married a cars salesman. Maura herself was a hair stylist. They were half way through desert when something came out of Maura's mouth that made Brandi freeze.
"So who's Mark Andrews?" Maura asked as she took a bite of ice cream. Brandi damn near stopped breathing.
"I'm sorry?" Brandi asked, wanting to make sure she heard right. "Mark Andrews?" Maura frowned and nodded.
"Yeah. He stopped by the house a few days ago. Thought you might be there." Maura said. Brandi nodded. "So, who is he?"
"An ex." Brandi said and pursed her lips. She had to stop and think for a minute. She leaned forward and lowered her voice. "Maura, if he comes back to the house, you call the police. Do you understand?" She asked. Maura was a little alarmed at the serious tone of Brandi's voice. Maura nodded. "Maura, I'm not kidding. He is dangerous. He's the reason I left Virginia. You see him, you call the cops."
"I get it, Brandi." Maura said still looking concerned. Brandi nodded and stood, pulling out her wallet. She removed enough money to cover the dinner and the tip.
"Maura, I have to run." Brandi said and Maura stood, a bit miffed that she was running off like this. Brandi hugged her again. "It was so good to see you. We should meet up again soon." She said as she began walking away. Maura just stood there, confused as to what just happened.
But Brandi didn't have time to deal with that. She had a bigger issue at hand. Especially if he found her.