Chapter 9

"Power, profit, or revenge. What else drives insane ideas?"

"Ten more," Bobby barked.

I pushed the weighted bar up evenly without my muscles shaking. I was drenched in sweat but dared not utter a word. Years of military discipline had taught me there was always more if only you reached deeper. The last press was slow and Bobby knew it was my last.

"OK, that's it."

I retreated to that place inside that held the pain and exhaustion in place. My breathing was through the nose. Fill the belly first, exhale through the mouth. Concentrate on relaxing. A cool bottle of water was pressed into my hands. "Hydrate, slowly," Bobby said softly. "I'll be back in a bit."

My muscles were returning, finally. Having a twin brother, we were always in competition and I resented he could muscle up easier than I. Yes, different hormones, but I learned, with extreme effort, I could get strong and fit. At my size, being hard and angular looked better than fluffy. Of course, in my career I had to be hard and fit, but now I had no physique. I would have to build up once again. As I drank the water, I turned to Stephanie who was working with leg weights and said, "Tell me about Lula. Am I anything like her?"

Stephanie stopped the leg lifts and started laughing until tears started down her cheeks. I pretty much had my answer before she found her voice, "You don't bear resemblance at all to her. You two are absolute opposites in EVERY way."

"Every?"

"The only thing you share is the lack of Y chromosomes."

"Then why was Pierre drawn to her?"

"Sex. Lula was a former prostitute and has no inhibitions. Tank probably needed some…you know."

"Sex?"

"She would try to tell me about her dates with Tank. She was a little too graphic but it sounded like straight fornication, not much emotional involvement, at least on his part. Believe it or not, he has a hard time getting girlfriends. Maybe they are afraid of his size?"

"Is she a large woman?"

"Yes, but not in height. They weren't together for more than a few months. Then came Alamogordo, and he suddenly was back to his solitary ways."

"Is Lula still around?"

"I work with her, but she's back to general dating. She would snap Tank back up if she could. She doesn't share well. I suggest you avoid her."

"Since my life is pretty much confined to here and Newark, I don't see a problem."

"Don't you and Tank go on dates?" she asked.

"Dates? I don't think I've ever been on a date. Group outings, yes, but never a man-woman date."

Stephanie's eyes grew wide. "Never?" she asked incredulously.

"My adolescence was pretty confined in a private academy for children in peril. I was crazy for a few years. At West Point, I was too busy. Afterward, I concentrated on my career and its demands. I didn't socialize plus I scare the heck out of men as I am taller than most. I've lived and worked around men so I don't relate to women at all. Strangers think I'm some fashion model unless they see me in uniform and assume I'm either a homosexual or cross-dresser. Finally, all children and most women think I'm a freak."

"Yet you and Tank hit it off so well."

"Did we? I sometimes wonder if our attraction is in a time warp back twelve years ago and we haven't yet caught up to the present. Neither of us was in the right point in our lives for a relationship. We both have grown and matured. I'm nearly overly mature and frankly embarrassed to have these girly feelings at my age. I know I shouldn't be questioning what is happening, but rejoice. If we have a year, ten years or fifty years together, I should not bemoan what we didn't have."

I finished my water and wiped off before getting back into the wheelchair. On my way up, both of my legs cramped. It is all part of being a paraplegic. I sat with my eyes closed trying to keep a stone face and remembering to breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth increasing the breaths per minute as the pain increased.

"Anything I can do?" I heard Steph ask.

"Just shoot me."

Bobby walked up and started to work the muscles. "We don't need the Glock alternative today, nor do we want to start drugs like diazepam," he said softly. "You have enough drugs going through your system."

"I prefer Sig Sauers."

The near-daily cramping continued, so Pierre began giving me massages to ease the muscle pain. The added benefit was he was growing bolder and no longer stopped stop with the legs. His massages were full body. Up until I came to Rangeman, I hated being touched. Now, I look forward to each of his sessions.

As he has become more attentive, he was also becoming more protective. Woe to anyone he thought was inappropriate towards me.

Damn, I've got to pee, I thought as I sat on the mats working with the latex exercise bands. My legs were starting to respond and I didn't need a coach or spotter for these exercises. Nobody else was in the gym but I knew Lester had recently left and gone to the showers. I was growing desperate. Angling myself up into the wheelchair, I headed for the locker room. "Gotta pee bad, shut your eyes, Les, and I'll shut mine," I called out loudly as I heard the shower water. Getting from the chair to the toilet without handicap bars all the while trying to lower my shorts was difficult. I never dressed in handicap adaptive clothing; these were true gym shorts. Suddenly, two hands came under my arms and lifted me up. "Can you reach your pants?" Les asked. He was stark naked.

"Yeah, thanks." I no sooner sat when a big, dark shadow appeared. Pierre grabbed Les' shoulder in a death grip and spun him around. Before Les was pounded into cottage cheese, I shouted in my best Army officer voice, "Sergeant Sherman, STOP!" Both men froze. "At ease both of you!"

The men looked at each other, relaxed, and then looked back to me but quickly elevated their eyes to the wall behind. They were embarrassed to see a woman sitting on a toilet. What was there to see, my belly button? For all the muscle and honed military proficiency, they were still gentlemen. If I wasn't so mad, I'd laugh. "Damn it, Pierre, my bladder is maxed out. I was the one out of order, invading the Men's Only locker room out of desperation. I didn't ask for help getting onto the toilet but I'm sure as hell grateful Mr. Santos stepped in or else I would have peed in my pants.

"You assume I ogled him. In the Army, 85% are men. We've lived, slept, and fought alongside one another. I've seen everything from every angle and I assume men have seen all of me as well."

Incredibly, Les was blushing. "I have more respect for Les than you think I do. I find that disappointing. Jealousy doesn't fit you, Mr. Sherman. Mr. Santos, thank you for assisting me in my time of need. You may return to your shower."

"Yes, ma'am."

OK, I admit to ogling. Lester's skin color was slightly lighter than Carlos Manoso's but the hair was lighter which tended to disappear against his cappuccino skin except in the obvious locations. Like all the Rangeman, his body was put together very, very nicely. But I know it wasn't God-given, but achieved through hard work. Something I could appreciate. Unlike many Rangemen, he had no tattoos, as no doubt he thought himself perfect enough. He didn't need enhancements.

I looked back at Pierre, "As for you, stand back. I still have to pee and would rather not have an audience. When finished, I'm returning to the gym and I most definitely do not want yours or anyone else's assistance." Once I completed the job, I pulled my shorts up, angled myself back onto the wheelchair and rolled out of the locker room, past several gawkers and out of the gym, muttering all the way.

I rolled into my room and went right to my computer, printed a message and hung it on the door: "Do not enter or risk being shot." That should keep everyone at bay for a while. Rolling around the room I scanned for detection devices then dug out my "other" computer with the secret programs and went back to work researching Rangeman's problem.

I wanted to use Rangeman's searches mainly to see how they stored information and to see if anyone had breached a few firewalls. While I could ask permission to use the search programs, I wanted to dive deeper without someone watching over my shoulder.

-0-

The next day the men figured I was still in a foul mood and kept their distance. When I wheeled into the Break Room for a sandwich, the room emptied quickly as if I was carrying a skunk on my lap. I left and found Stephanie at her computer in her cubicle.

"Knock, knock."

She jumped back, "Oh, Colonel! I didn't hear you."

"Rubber wheels keep me quiet...fog and cat feet."

She rolled her eyes, "Another Carl Sandburg fan? You and Ranger need to compare poems."

"It's a short poem; even I can remember it:

The fog comes

on little cat feet.

It sits looking

over harbor and city

on silent haunches

and then moves on.

"I stopped by to see what search systems you use and to see if you could use help," I said as I noted her 'in' box was overflowing.

"Pull up a chair, ah, I mean..." she stuttered.

I laughed, "Don't apologize. Actually you are the first to use that phrase. I'm surprised it hasn't happened more."

"Wheelchairs are intimidating."

"Yes, they are, plus hard on people's backs."

"How is it hard on you?"

"Pierre is tall and must bend way low to kiss me. Do you realize, normally I'm only a few inches shorter than he? I hate this lower perspective...but," I said as I rolled up to her desk, "it's handy for getting right to work. Show me what you do."

Pointing to a second terminal she said, "Use that one. You probably know about search programs. Here, we aren't looking for national secrets. Ranger and Tank are the only ones who use those programs."

Maybe not national secrets, but I was looking for Rangeman secrets. For the next two hours, we searched, batted around ideas, and searched for more. We looked at the inbox. It was empty. "Colonel, we make a great team. We polished off the toughest of the toughest in record time."

In between all the searches, I was able to learn more about Ranger's public and super private search programs. I wasn't the only one looking into the private part. Someone had used Stephanie's computer. She didn't have the skills to hack into a secret system, but someone here did.

"Steph, are you the only one who uses these two computers?" I asked.

"No, they are open to anyone who needs information when I'm away."

-0-

Stephanie and Ranger sat across from one another eating dinner in his apartment. "Did I see you and VC working at your computer station today?"

"She helped me track down someone a while back and stopped by the see the system. She offered to help with the backlog. I didn't have to show her much, she figured it out quickly."

"Babe, in her job she works with far more complicated systems than ours. Plus, she wrote one of our search programs. Of course she'd know how to use it."

"She's worked for Rangeman before?"

"Remember, she knew Silvio before he joined us. What is your opinion of her?"

"I like her. She's like an older sister but she doesn't talk down to me like Valerie. She's intense though, her eyes are like yours, always watching."

"That's the military in her. You might ask her to give you some pointers. One can never be too aware of one's situation."

"So you tell me, constantly," she cooed. "Right now, I'm fully aware my surroundings and I need to be kissed before dessert."

Ranger smiled a mere 100-watt smile, "In due time, but first, do you think she and Tank are good together?"

"Both are good at maintaining a professional posture with one another in public, but I've seen him going into her room at odd hours. He's carrying timesheet files. When I asked him why he was in the area, he said he was going to watch over her as she recovers from her treatments while catching up on paperwork. He's totally dedicated to her, but he's not shirking his Rangeman work if that is what worries you."

"No, it's just he's…devolving. He's becoming more like he was back in our early training. He's showing signs of becoming….jovial again."

Stephanie laughed, "And that's bad?"

"It's just weird. Lester was shadowing him at the fairgrounds and saw Tank laugh out loud and kiss her in public."

"Well mister, I have information for you. Since I moved in and work mainly for Rangeman, you are changing, too. You are showing a human side to your men. You better be careful, there might be a riot on the command floor when they realize hard ass Ranger has a tiny soft spot."

"Human side? Let me show you my human side," Ranger chuckled as he moved around and sat in a chair next to her and pulled her onto his lap. Holding her chin, he began sensually kissing her. His hand rubbed her back under her shirt as if searching for the hooks. "God bless front hook bras," he muttered as his hands moved around front. Once her breasts were freed, he began to partake of his own dessert. Stephanie knew her chocolate cake in the refrigerator would have to wait, maybe until morning.

-0-

Jeanne Ellen rolled over and looked at Lee. "What are we going to do?"

Lee moved his hand up and began running it through her short blonde hair, "I don't know love, but I'll stand with you whatever you want to do."

"Lee, do we dare bear a child together, after all, we are half siblings? This is my very last hurrah to have a baby. I'm nearly too old."

"Do you want to keep the baby?" Lee had been married for fifteen years before his wife passed away. He had no children and the thought of a child at his age was frightening for many reasons. But he loved Jeanne Ellen. They did not know they were siblings, half-siblings, until after they had fallen in love.

"I'm afraid something will be wrong with it. Also, most women my age are entering menopause. I might have problems."

"We will have it tested and then make a decision. If the baby is OK, do you want to keep it?"

"Yes and no. What will the boss say?"

"He's not exactly a pillar of virtue."

"I'll talk to my doctor in New York, we'll go from there."

Lee was frightened. Lee's father had warned him to keep his hands off Jeanne Ellen, but nature had other plans. Since he and Jeanne Ellen bore no similarities he hoped one of them was not actually one of the boss' offspring.

The doctor entered the consultation room and sat down. "Jeanne Ellen, I'm happy to report tests do not show chromosome inconsistencies. There is no sign of Down syndrome or other problematic genetic markers."

She had reluctantly told her doctor the father of the child was closely related to her. She had stretched the truth a bit saying she didn't find out until after conception.

"Being an older woman, pregnant for the first time, I understand your concern. Rest assured, everything is fine so far. While you are in excellent health and physical shape, you will have to be carefully monitored, often. If your work is physical, you will need to cut back."

She let out a big sigh. Now, it was how to get away from the boss, their father. They needed to leave the country, and soon, to be able to raise their child together.

Later that day, Jeanne Ellen was back in Newark and stopped at Julio Gaspar's bail bonds office, "Anything for me?" she asked.

Julio barely looked up, "Yeah, our friend, Domingo Baca, is someplace high as a kite and forgot his court appointment."

"He's usually pretty easy to find. This shouldn't take long."

"Be careful, word his he's moving into stronger stuff. I'll have more waiting for you when you get back." Gaspar mumbled as he continued working.

Domingo lived in the same barrio as so many of her "runners" from the past lived, including the young Carlos Manoso. Finding Domingo was seldom difficult. A few, well-placed questions and she'd be at his door. She rolled up in her black Mercedes sedan. The neighborhood knew Jeanne Ellen was working and nobody touched her car. She walked up to the door and in Spanish yelled, "Domingo Baca, bond enforcement, open the door, a**hole. Let's get this over and then we can go out for dinner." The door swung open and a 12-gauge shotgun let loose with both barrels. Jeanne Ellen flew backward landing flat on her back below the porch steps. The man in black stepped out, racked two more shells and fired into her lower abdomen from less than 2 feet away. Jeanne Ellen was basically cut in two.

Neighbors reported seeing the Latino man dressed in black leave by way of the back alley driving a black Porsche Turbo. Most thought it was Ricardo Carlos Manoso. He was well known as he was raised in the neighborhood. Nobody got a license, not that it mattered. It had been removed.

Later that day, the Newark police accompanied by Trenton cops came to the Haywood office with a warrant for Ranger's arrest. But having received a warning, Ranger was gone. He told Stephanie he was going into the wind one last time but shared the real reason with Pierre.

Several days later, Stephanie breezed into the bonds office and Morelli was waiting for her. He grabbed her arm and walked her back outside.

"Where is Ranger?"

"I haven't seen him, Joe. Why?" She knew never to reveal his work for the government.

"Lee Sebring is missing."

"And you think…..what, Ranger is next?"

"No, I think he's involved. First, Jeanne Ellen is killed by Manoso and now Lee is missing."

"You think Ranger killed Jeanne Ellen and now Lee? Ranger is not an assassin." She caught herself. Of course he was, but only with a good reason or government sanction.

"FBI is really pushing us to find him. They are on the hunt as well."

"Why are they interested in local murders? They usually stay away."

"I don't know, but the way they are pushing, he is the top priority.

"You mean like the most wanted?"

"Yeah, Cupcake, just like Ten Most Wanted."

The clangs in her head were as loud as they've ever been. Joe pushed her head down but she completely collapsed on the sidewalk, "No, no, no, he's not guilty, he's not guilty," she mumbled.

Ranger watched from the building across the street. He wanted to run to her but he couldn't. Morelli stood with his hands on his hips and watched, not offering to help. What a jerk! Eventually, with Connie's and Lula's help, she was back on her feet and headed back into the bonds office. Morelli left.

-0-

Pierre and I were in the gym when a very pale Stephanie came in and walked towards us. Automatically, I flipped on my phone and the nearby speaker spewed music to garble any listening device that might be in the gym.

Steph folded herself into Pierre's massive arms. "Morelli told me Ranger is about to be put on the Ten Most Wanted List from the FBI for killing Jeanne Ellen and maybe Lee Sebring."

Pierre bent over as if cuddling Stephanie and whispered, "He didn't, and we are working hard to find out who did. Be aware, Rangeman is bugged. Be careful what you say to everyone here, around town, in the bonds office...everywhere. Your phone is probably bugged and directional microphones can pick up conversations from thirty feet or more. You can trust only me and VC."

I'll give Stephanie credit, she didn't react in the way the majority would react, rearing back and exclaiming too loudly, "Bugged!" Instead she nodded as he kissed her hair.

"Little Girl, he is safe and being careful," he whispered.

Two days later, Lee Sebring's body was found burned in his automobile in the Pine Barrens. Identification was slow. It came down to DNA evidence. I made a discreet inquiry to a home for mentally handicapped men in Pennsylvania, and one Derek Iverson, Lee's twin brother with a new name, had been moved to a new facility several years prior. No further information was available. I assumed Lee was still alive and it was Derek in the car. But where was Lee?

-0-

Julio Gaspar was nervous. His half-siblings, Jeanne Ellen and Lee, were dead. He knew who his biological father was, but was told never to reveal the name. It wasn't until he was 14 that the man appeared and began cultivating Julio. When Julio's mother died, his father encouraged him to enter the Air Force, then later, the police academy. Afterwards he provided start-up money for Julio to go into bail bonds after an accident on the Newark police force. The money came with one codicil: have nothing to do with Rick Manoso. Julio didn't ask why but felt maybe Rick had something on his father.

Years ago, Julio thought Rick Manoso might be his half-brother as well. Their lives paralleled each other's for a while, but then Rick went to Florida, returning to attend Rutgers. Also, Julio met Mr. Manoso, Rick's father. There was no doubt Rick was his offspring and Javier was his brother.

He never believed like the police that Ranger was Jeanne Ellen's killer. Even as a gang member, Rick respected women, even when they deserved none. He was never ruthless. Maybe the Army changed him, but not into a sloppy murderer; shotgun, daylight, and seen leaving the scene. A smarter kill would have been inside, quietly and he would not use his own car for transportation.

What motive would Rick need to kill Jeanne Ellen and Lee? It made no sense. He and Jeanne Ellen kept to their own areas. When Rick took on the street name Ranger, he went to Lee for a job. Lee turned him down. Had their father also warned off Lee? Ranger went to Vincent Plum for a job.

Julio firmly believed his father was behind the murders and Ranger was being set up, but why? Too many questions and he knew better than to ask. The man had an explosive temper. Julio chose to play dumb and live. He had done it before and was still alive.