Babes, YOU ROCK! You are wonderful readers and supporters and your notes make me sooooooo (spreadmyarms) happy.

To my loyal pet sitting guest reviewer: THANKS so much for writing another review with the QuickTrip links and the ones your friend from the VA gave you, but they didn't show. It's all FF's fault. Apparently links aren't shown when written down instead there are just blank spaces. I don't know what to do. I'd really LOVE to have the links and all the informations regarding service dogs / emotional support dogs for veterans. It should work if you leave spaces between the single parts of the address like www . servicedog . com. I'd be really thankful for a third try. Don't they say all good things come in threes? :-) scratches to the pooches, ~Yvonne

And the disclaimer is? Taataaaa... You know them, they belong to JE

The second chance

Chapter 10

Trenton-Mercer Airport, Ewing Township, the next morning

Steph stepped out of the small exit of the Rangeman Gulfstream onto the top step and blinked into the midmorning sunshine greeting her. A brisk wind was blowing and she shivered, quickly zipping her parka, before taking a look around. Of course Tank, Bobby and Lester were already there waiting for her. Like statues they stood next to each other with their backs against the Explorer behind them, their arms crossed over their massive chests and their feet crossed at the ankles, their Aviator glasses reflecting the sunshine and their faces giving nothing away. Steph sighed happily. She was back home and it felt wonderful.

"Hey," she called down to the men, waved and started to laugh when their mouths simultaneously broke into huge smiles.

Lester was the first to push away from the SUV and she happily bounced down the steps and into his waiting arms.

"Beautiful," he lifted her up in the air and twirled her around with her legs flying. "It's so good to have you back. I've missed you terribly."

"Don't hog the girl, man," Bobby complained behind them. "I need my Steph-fix, too… Hey honey," he smiled when he enveloped her into his arms. "It's good to have you back. Talking on the phone every night isn't the same as seeing you live and in person."

"Wait! You talked to her every night?" Lester narrowed his eyes at Bobby, an annoyed look on his face. "If you bothered her with your boring stories every night then why the fuck did I hold back and called just every other day?"

"Because you knew how draining it would be to give Bobby my reports regarding the men's condition and you didn't want to add to that stress," Steph pulled out of Bobby's arms, cupped Les' cheek and rubbed it lovingly. "Your calls were always perfectly timed and conjured a smile on my face each and every time. Don't squabble, you two."

"Just ignore them, little girl, it's what I do and it works for me since years."

"Tank," Steph turned, tilted her head back and smiled up at the huge man now throwing his shadow over her. "I've missed you. How's the air up there?"

Tank let go of a booming laugh and pulled her into a gentle embrace. "Just enough oxygen to keep my brain going, little girl."

Meanwhile, Bobby had picked up her luggage and started to stow it away in the back of the Explorer.

"I see you brought the laptop back that we sent you," he hollered over to where she and Tank were still standing. "Did you hear that, Tank? You can finally take a deep breath and relax."

"What does he mean?" Steph looked up with a crunched brow.

"Oh, nothing, Beautiful," Lester put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side. "Just that the software on that fine piece of technic is so illegal that our attorneys were on constant standby in case you were found out."

"What?"

"Relax, Beautiful," Les chuckled next to her. "Nothing happened. We didn't tell you so you wouldn't be nervous and give yourself away."

"But I would have hidden it away had I known how dangerous the possession is," Steph angrily narrowed her eyes at the men surrounding her. "This way I left it on the dining table in the hotel room for everyone to see."

"Dumbfuck," Tank growled and slapped Lester on the back of his head.

"What the hell? Why did you do that?"

"Because you aren't helping here," the big black man kept growling. "Little girl," he put his hands on her shoulder and looked straight into her eyes. "Sorry for leaving you in the dark. You have every right to be angry with us, but we thought you didn't need the additional stress of knowing what you held in your hands. We needed your focus on Ranger and the search. Don't be mad at us, okay? In our clumsy, well-meant but often misguided way we were just trying to look out for you."

"Okay, but don't do it again. You know how much I hate it when you aren't telling me things for my own good. I really hate it. Morelli always did that and Ranger has done it in parts. It's wrong and puts me at risk."

"Yes, I know and I apologize," Tank bend in his knees so they were at eye level. "We good?"

"Yeah, big guy. We good."

"Good. Then let's get you outta here and to the Pancake House. You deserve a completely unhealthy breakfast after giving yourself up to the bossman's wellbeing for the past two and a half weeks."

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

Rangeman, conference room on five, an hour and a half later

"Silence!"

Immediately the talking in the conference room stopped as every man turned his attention towards Tank who stood at the head of the long table, calling them to order.

"You all had your chance to hug Steph and express your joy over having her back. Now it's time that we put our game faces on and listen to what she found out about the general. He fucked with one of our own and we stand up for each other. No one messes with Rangeman and gets away with it."

Several battles cries filled the conference room as the men rapped their knuckles on the tabletop.

"Little girl, you have the floor."

"Alright," Steph stood up from her chair next to Tank's. "The information I will present to you now I partly got from Ranger as well as from my research regarding General Duane McDermott." Steph pressed a key on her laptop and the picture of the general popped up on the white wall behind her. "The general was born 1950 and married young at the age of twenty. Together with his wife Laura, who was seventeen at their wedding, he had five children; three daughters and two sons over the course of twenty-five years. After being in Vietnam for a three-month stint in a supply unit, he came back to Washington and made a fast career within the administration of the Army. Thanks to his father, an admiral of outstanding merit, he knew military brass and other high-ranking officials within the government and had interceders on all levels. Soon enough he found his way into the Army Human Resources Command where he worked his way up the ladder. He's a die-hard republican and very old school in his thinking no matter the topic. His daughters all got married right out of High School, his two sons are both dead."

In the seat next to her, Lester scrunched his brow at that revelation and turned a questioning look to Bobby sitting next to him. He knew about one of the general's sons being dead; he'd been there after all when he was dying, but the death of the second one was new to him.

"The two sons were his youngest kids and the general's whole pride, especially as they both followed in their father's footsteps and joined the Army," Steph continued. "Both became Army Rangers and were well-respected. Tragedy hit ten years ago when the older one of the two died on a mission with Ranger, Tank, Lester and Bobby. The general took it hard, but didn't seem to hold his death against Ranger and the other guys. I tried to search into that mission back then, but the records got sealed on demand of General McDermot and even Silvio couldn't hack into them. As far as Ranger can remember, they walked into an ambush as though someone had tipped the enemy off. A couple years later they were on an assignment and had the younger one of the general's sons with them. Again the enemy knew they were coming. The gunfight lasted seventy-two hours before the reinforcements arrived, ninety percent of the men died. Our guys brought the son back home, but he suffered a severe case of PTSD. The general didn't bat an eye. With his old school thinking he had a low opinion of this newfangled psychological stuff. In his mind it's all a question of pulling oneself together and going on. He didn't show any understanding as his son struggled more and more. Instead of being there for him, the general put pressure on him and faced him with incomprehension and impatience. In his eyes he was a failure, a disgrace to the family. Eventually, it broke the son and he committed suicide. So over the course of about three years the general and his wife lost both their beloved sons. Laura McDermot couldn't stand the cold, uncompassionate behavior of her husband any longer and divorced him and to make things worse his three daughters, mourning their brothers, also turned their back to him."

A growl went through the assembled men. They all knew PTSD, had all struggled with it at one point or the other in their life. It was a demon that lived in the back of their minds, often assaulting them at night in their dreams. There's a good reason why one out of five suicides was committed by veterans suffering under their impressions of war. To imagine their own family might turn against them, put pressure on them and call them a disappointment, made white hot anger boil up in their veins.

"Let me guess," Ram snarled, his fists balled up so hard that the knuckles turned white. "The general holds Ranger, Tank, Lester and Bobby responsible for losing his family."

"Looks that way. When I talked to her on the phone, his wife hinted that the general was seeking for revenge. She and her former husband are no longer on speaking terms, but she remembered from the time around their divorce that he became more and more bitter, often drank too much and then talked about how he would get back for his sons' deaths."

"But how?"

"By sending Tank, Bobby, the boss and me on continuously increasing suicide missions," Lester growled. "He couldn't outright kill us, but he could take care that our chance for survival was nil."

"That's Ranger's and my guess," Steph put her hand on Les' shoulder and squeezed it. "I'm in contact with a former assistant of the General who indicated that he'd be willing to talk with me, but just face to face."

"No fucking way!" Several of the men jumped up and started to shout, their once blank faces hard and angry.

"Silence!" Tank thundered after a moment.

"We won't let Steph anywhere near that scum, Tank," Cal growled, his flaming skull looking more vicious than ever. "You can't be seriously contemplating that."

"It's not my call. She is the spearhead of this operation and in the end it's her decision. She has Ranger's full support and Rangeman's every asset as backup.

"Angel, don't," Cal turned to Steph, his eyes pleading. "We don't know whether that assistant is trustworthy. It could be a ploy of the general to get his hands on you and what then? We'd go postal if he'd get ahold of you."

"Guys," Steph looked at the men around the huge conference table, some of them still upset and standing. "Please, calm down. I promise I won't take any unnecessary chances. I'm here to discuss with you what I found out and plan my next steps. I won't run off without your full support."

That quieted the men down and they straightened out their chairs and took a seat.

"Look," Steph continued. "I don't think that the general is behind that assistant's offer to talk to me. He served McDermot for nearly ten years and then suddenly not only got sacked, but also got an employment reference letter that made sure he wouldn't find another job easily. Something must have happened that caused bad blood between the general and his assistant and my spidey sense is telling me that it's worth hearing."

"Alright," Cal nodded. "I understand your reasoning, but if you meet with him take at least two of us with you so we can secure the perimeter."

That caused Steph to smile. "I won't put Rangeman on the line what with the contracts many of you have still running and Rangeman's affiliation with the government, but I'm sure between all of us we'll work something out that puts everybody's mind at ease."

"So we have an idea why McDermot could be after Les and most probably also after the bossman; he wants revenge for losing his family. And we have a potential whistleblower in form of the general's former assistant. Anything else?" Tank looked at Steph.

"Yes. I checked his credit card movements and every other Friday afternoon after work he withdraws 1,500.00 US$. I couldn't find any clue on what is going on, whether he's blackmailed, but whatever he has to hide is going on since several years. He's spent a small fortune so far."

"He's one of the leading heads of the Army Human Resources Command. Perhaps he's sold information and someone's come behind it. That would also explain how he can have so much money."

"I don't think so," Steph shook her head. "I searched his person as thoroughly as possible, combed through the information with a fine-toothed comb, and no matter from which angle you look at him; he's a patriot through and through. I don't see him betraying his country and he comes from old money so there's no financial reason for betrayal."

"It could be something much simpler. How about a hit and run while under the influence?" Woody suggested.

"Whatever it is we need to find out and see whether we can use it to our advantage. I'm not above blackmailing that man if it gets Lester out of his contract."

"I guess that means you want to go to Washington?" Tank steepled his fingers under his chin.

"Exactly," Steph nodded. "I've thought about it the whole flight back from Germany and I'd like to leave today and see what I can dig up. Laura McDermot is living in Arlington; I'd like to talk to her in person. Then there's the said assistant. I want to meet with him and find out why he was sacked and whether he has any information that could be important for us. And last not least I want to tail McDermot when he withdraws the money to see where he's going with it. Since we don't know what we'll turn up and I promised Ranger to be as cautious as possible I'd like to take two of you with me. They'll need airtight covers and I want them to have no affiliation with the Army. That of course narrows down the choice." Steph looked at the two men sitting next to each other that she had in mind. "Hector, Manny, would you accompany me to D.C.?"

It made sense. Hector was street with no military background at all and Manny was a Marine who had been a crime scene investigator for the NYPD before Ranger discovered him and made him an offer he couldn't deny. They were both on the small side, fit but not brawny and had the ability to vanish in a crowd. Plus neither one had a connection to the Army or the general and they both maintained a low profile within Rangeman. With the right cover they could become whomever Steph needed them to be.

"Querida," Hector held his right hand over his heart. "I'll follow you wherever you go."

"Yeah, wifey," Manny nodded. "You can count on us. We'll help you bring that general down."

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

Washington D.C., Army Human Resources Command

Duane McDermot sat in his spacious corner office overlooking the Potomac River and narrowed his eyes at the file in front of him. Lester Mateo Santos. The name alone made his blood boil. Earlier the day he was notified that Mañoso's condition was deteriorating, his return into active service no longer open for discussion. That left Santos as the only outlet for his burning anger. He needed to act with deliberation, to make sure that the missions he'd send the traitor on would not just test his limits but would be beyond his capabilities. Santos was supposed to suffer miserably and eventually die a wretched death. He'd been his son's wingman. He was supposed to have his back. He failed and for that he'd die, but only after he'd suffered. The shrill ringing of the phone on his desk brought McDermot out of his cravings for revenge and focus on the display showing the number of a four star general sitting in the Pentagon.

"McDermot?"

"Yes, what can I do for you?"

"Rumors have it that the days of the great Mañoso are history. Is that true?"

"Looks that way."

"Do you have a capable substitute? I have the rough draft of an assignment here on my desk that would have been right up Mañoso's alley, insoluble with just a tiny chance of survival."

McDermot's eyes fell on Lester's file lying in front of him and a diabolical smile graced his lips.

"Tell me more. I might just have what you need."

Darn! Will Steph be able to dig the general's grave before he can send Lester out on his next mission? And for what are the 1,500$ every other week? What might the assistant know that could help Steph? Questions over questions... Review away, Babes. I want to know how you feel.