There is some violence in this chapter. If you are uncomfortable please skip this chapter.

Chapter 10

Ranger's POV

I was sleeping with Stephanie tucked in beside me and I was having the most wonderful dream with us laying on a beach somewhere warm. I woke up with my hand lightly cupping her breast. We had not had much sleep last night but I could feel my loins stir once more and tried to nudge her awake. My morning wood was very apparent but unfortunately Stephanie was not responding to my gentle kisses. We had both tumbled into sleep only a few short hours ago.

An alarm sounded in the building. I pushed Stephanie away from me and jumped out of bed climbing into my cargoes with my shirt in my hand. I grabbed the ringing phone by my bedside and barked, 'Report'.

Junior was asking someone to take the phone and I could hear Tank shouting orders in the background.

Tank took the phone and spoke.

"Ranger, stay on seven. We have a report of intruders in the garage. We have eyes on them, but just in case it is a distraction, I want you far away. Go to your safe room. I have put the elevator on lock-down."

Just then, Tank swore. "We are under siege from two fronts now. I say again, stay inside. We are being attacked from the roof. A helicopter just let out five men. Shit. They blew the roof door. I think they are heading your way."

Tank hung up on me. By now, Stephanie was awake. She had never been nor never would be a morning person and waking up so abruptly, she was standing by the bed, confused by all the activity.

I took her by the arm and firmly guided her to the bathroom where I locked the door behind us. I wrapped the robe hanging on a hook behind the door around her and tied the cord. I looked at her. She was standing in the middle of the bathroom and looked at me in confusion.

I spoke in a controlled but angry voice.

"Someone is attempting to take matters into their own hands. We need to stay in this room, Babe. It was built to withstand attack."

I needed to spell it out very clearly.

"What I need you to do, Babe, is grab the gun that is hiding under the pile of towels on the top drawer of the linen closet. I cannot have fingerprints on any weapon but you are cleared to carry. We do not want to miss any small detail that will jeopardize my freedom in any way.

Tank will be handling the deployment of men and we will just sit and stay comfortable in here until he knocks on the door and personally advises me that it is safe to leave."

Stephanie was nodding her head. She had already retrieved the gun and it was in one of the pockets of her robe. Her hand stayed gripped on the handle and she sat down on one of the stools by the shower.

I tried to engage her in conversation but Stephanie was not up to discussing anything other than who would be so stupid as to attempt such a hair-brained scheme.

"Why would they even think that they could get into this building, Ranger? Any idiot can see that it would be well defended."

She looked so cute sitting there in my robe with her hair all disheveled and her hand gripped tightly around my gun. God help me, but I wanted to take her then and there. I know. I am a sick man.

"Jason is making someone nervous. He has the word out and he is getting back some information that lends itself to some doubt of my guilt, Babe.

Whoever might be heading up this plan did not take into consideration the resources that would be used to defend. Someone did not plan this very well the what-ifs that always happen in a mission.

If I had to guess, whoever is behind this has been sitting behind a desk way too long."

Finally I gave up trying to distract her with words. I was sitting on the stool beside her but I was getting anxious. In my opinion, it was taking too long to diffuse the problem.

I was holding her hand in mine, rubbing the top of her hand with my thumb trying to keep her calm. I kept an eye on her other hand, firmly clenched in the pocket of my robe. I loved her dearly, but the idea of her protecting me was a bit sobering.

After what seemed a lifetime, there were footsteps outside the door, and two knocks followed by a moment of silence, then one more knock on the door. Stephanie had taken the gun out of the pocket of her robe and was pointing it at the door.

Tank spoke. "Ranger and Little Girl. It is safe to come out now."

I looked at Stephanie. She was still pointing the gun and even the distinctive voice of Tank failed to register nor allow her to put the weapon down. I gently lowered the gun, being careful to have my hand over hers at all times.

She finally looked at me and nodded. Her hand relaxed and she put the gun back in the pocket of the robe.

I unlocked the door but kept Stephanie shielded with my body.

I watched as Tank moved into view then reached back and guided her out the door. Tank was wearing a vest and had a long rifle in his hand. He was on his phone and was ordering that the alarms be turned off.

Finally he spoke. "We wounded one, captured another and disposed of three. Unfortunately some got away. We are checking the cameras. Binkie took a bullet in his shoulder and Cal has a simple in and out in his right thigh. Bobby has them both in the infirmary checking them over. When it's safe we will transport them to the hospital, but Bobby assures me that they do not need immediate medical care.

We have both the intruders in the holding cells and will be talking to them shortly."

I guided Stephanie to the closet. "Get dressed Babe and meet us downstairs on five. The elevator is still on lock-down so you will have to use the stairs. Please put the gun back where you found it. I really need you on monitors for a bit until we can get everything calmed down. If you are unwilling to wear your Sig, at least wear a Taser."

I looked at Tank. "Department heads in 10 in the conference room. It looks like the timetable has changed and someone is getting ready to ramp up."

Tank nodded and put the phone to his ear, advising whoever was on monitors to call the appropriate men to the conference room.

We left the apartment, locking the door and making sure it was secure for Babe to stay alone.

Tank stopped me before we stepped into the stairwell. I noticed a few bullet holes in the sheetrock outside my door. There looked like drops of blood on the carpet.

"They used C4 on both the roof door and the garage. We have them on camera. This looks military all the way."

He stopped then added. "They were almost at your door before we stopped them, Ranger."

I nodded. They wanted me so badly they were pulling out all the stops. It was imperative that we get to the bottom of this and soon.

My men and building were in danger. Stephanie and I were in danger. Once again, I vowed that to save Stephanie's life I was willing to sacrifice my own. I did not verbalize it; I assumed that Tank knew.

We took the stairs after Tank confirmed by phone that the stairwell was clear using the cameras in position.

We walked out on five and everyone was on high alert. They were all fully dressed in vests and long rifles slung over their shoulders.

Hector stood in the corner of the room. He was sharpening his already lethal knives and placing them in sheaths on various parts of his body. He had a holster on his hip and his Sig was in plain view. His face was anything but calm and his mouth was set in a hard line. He had let Tank know that although he was proficient in long rifle, he would prefer not to carry one. It interfered with throwing his knives.

Tank had grudgingly agreed.

Les was standing behind the monitoring station and was issuing orders about continued surveillance. He looked back at me and shrugged. It now appeared that whoever wanted me had changed tactics.

Les wanted to interview the men locked downstairs but would wait for permission. He smiled an evil grin. He had been trained by the best of the best and Uncle Sam would not be the only one to benefit from that training.

An uneasy calm had settled in the building.

Extra surveillance and drummed in training exercises had reduced what could have been a bloody and possibly fatal end for the men of Rangeman. Each man silently promised that there would be nothing left to chance. Essentially they were under attack and needed to keep vigilant at all times.

I walked into the conference room. The seats were filled with men from each department, including the Core Team. There was a stormy silence and the air was charged in tension.

Tank took command of the meeting. Barking 'report', he listened as each department reported any injuries, actions and observations.

Bobby reported that both Binkie and Cal were resting comfortably in their apartments and had refused offer of the hospital suite. Bobby reported that the wounded assailant had been attended to and was in stable enough condition to be interviewed.

Woody reported that the damaged cameras were being replaced and Hector was on it boosting video surveillance around the building.

Tank raised an eyebrow. Normally Hector should be attending this meeting.

Woody shrugged his shoulders. Hector marched to a different beat and if someone wanted to take it up with him, well...

Zip held up three sets of dog tags. It was silent as he read off the names. Walter Wilkinson, Evan Smith, and Jerry Padlowski. Bobby asked if anybody in the room knew these men.

Manny stood up. He had three sheets of paper in his hand. "Walter Wilkinson, DOB 19 Dec 89, Evan Smith, DOB 22 Mar 90, and Jerry Padlowski, DOB 7 Feb 90. Former members of the 82nd. Dishonorably Discharged, August 2013 for everything from misappropriation of military equipment to aggravated assault. Served 18 months. Released 31 August 2013."

I stood up. The already quiet room grew even more silent.

"Men, it is imperative that we keep vigilant. Until the situation is resolved, we may experience more attacks. Every patrol now double teams. No vehicle is to travel alone. Cameras and mics on in the vehicles. Do not hesitate to call in anything suspicious.

Elevators will be locked down and stairwells will be manned at the garage and main floor reception area. Sensors on the roof have been re-calibrated. Safety first, gentlemen."

I sat down.

Tank stood up. "The schedule is posted. Four hours on, four off. All leaves canceled. No visitors inside the building. Badges to be worn at all times. Vests and sidearms mandatory for all employees except Ranger, including housekeeping and maintenance. No outside deliveries to be accepted for anything without permission from Core Team. Any questions?"

There were none so Tank barked, "Dismissed".

Chairs scraped and there was a rush for the door. It would be a busy time and all in attendance had to brief their departments on the new procedures.

I waited with Tank, Bobby and Les. The door closed behind the last man and we looked at each other.

Tank spoke. "Les can question first. You can play Good Cop, because by God, I want to play Bad Cop in there."

Les tried to mask his pout. He wanted to play Bad Cop, but the look on Tanks' face dictated that he get the honor today.

Tank spoke. "I want names, times, and details. This shit going down only confirms the fact that we are closing in on breaking this wide open. Jason is pushing bush back in his office. He has been advised of our situation and is prepared to defend as needed."

The Core Team left the conference room. Tank and I headed for the control room and Les and Bobby headed for the basement.

~~~o0o~~~

Bobby made a detour to his office for his bag. He would meet Les downstairs and check periodically during the 'interview' for injuries. As strong as Tank was, Les was by far the more dangerous. Tank just plain hit hard, but Les made sure his hits were strategic in nature. A bruised kidney hurt, but a little lower and it met at an even more tender spot. Same with a rib. Ribs hurt, but catch them at the base and there was a whole new brand of hurt. A split lip loosened teeth, but a half inch under the ear broke your jaw and required reconstructive surgery. Knee injuries were always fun to inflict, especially when the detainee was cuffed and shackled to a chair. Recovering from ACL and MCL injuries took a long time to heal and rarely did the joint return to a completely functional state.

Hal was standing guard by the cells. They could already hear the moans of pain coming from the first room. Hal smiled. Les was working him over pretty good from the sound of it. He opened the little screened window of the cell door across the hall. The wounded man inside was now able to hear every moan and every grunt.

Finally Les came out. His hands had a bruised and bloody look and Bobby nodded that he would check on them in a minute. He headed into the room to check out the situation.

The man was moaning softly as he slumped in the chair. There was a strong smell of urine in the room and Bobby stepped carefully around the puddle. He had his stethoscope around his neck and quickly checked for a heartbeat. He was wearing gloves and grabbing a handful of hair pulled the man's head back and checked his pupils with a flashlight. There was blood dripping down the side of his mouth and he was breathing through his mouth.

Bobby stepped out. His job was done. Tank could ask the questions now.

He walked over to where Les was leaning against the wall. He lifted up one of his hands and checked for damage to the knuckles. Bobby took out some antiseptic from his bag and swabbed gently. Les grimaced but submitted to the ministrations in silence. Bobby had some bandages in his hand but Les waved him off. He had one more room to visit.

Les waited as Hal unlocked door number two. He walked in with a smile on his face. This time he did not need to use his fists. This guy had been wounded and a little pressure here and there might make the difference between talking and not talking flow faster. He looked back and nodded at Hal to start the tape.

Tank worked his way downstairs. He was already cracking his knuckles with anticipation. He rarely got to play Bad Cop but today seemed like the perfect time to play the part.

Hal let him in the cell and Tank sighed. Les had really worked him over. He walked to the chair and stood there with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Henderson, you piece of shit. I busted your ass how many times when you were pretending to be a Ranger. You disgraced the uniform then and you are disgracing all that we worked for to protect now."

Tank moved so fast that he never saw the fist as it smashed into his nose. Blood flew everywhere coating both the fronts of the shirts of both men. Tank stood back.

"Now talk".

Henderson spit out a loose tooth. He tried to sneer, but the effort to open his mouth properly proved a bit difficult. He tried to glare at Tank but one eye was already swollen shut and the other was turning black.

Damien Henderson had been a bully as he grew up. He thought of himself as a tough guy but at the same time he was out to prove himself worthy for his place in society as a for hire mercenary. Money talked and he loved money. No job was too small or too squeamish to accept. He liked to brag that he was open to any and all offers regardless of the situation.

He contemplated staying silent. Unfortunately being taken prisoner had not entered into his plan and instead of being the hero, it was rapidly becoming a nightmare especially considering the pissed off monster in front of him.

He had not taken into consideration the manpower and firepower in the building. He figured his hours might be numbered and he thanked the gods that he had already been paid up front. At least he had spent the money the way he wanted to, partying and gambling with nary a care in the world. His motto, live for today.

"Hen der son," Tank's voice had taken on an edge. His fist was ready to strike.

Damien grimaced. "We were paid to capture Manoso's bitch and extract by any means possible. She's nothing to write home about and I cannot for the life of me figure out what he sees in her. She must put out pretty good to stay around.

I took this job because I wanted to repay Manoso back from Operation Red Bull."

This time he saw the fist heading his way. He coughed up some blood.

"Go to Hell".

Tank looked at the broken man in front of him. "You first."

He knocked on the door. Hal opened it and Bobby stepped in. He came out a minute later and shook his head.

~~~o0o~~~

Les stepped into the other room. He rubbed his hands in glee. Tank told him he was Good Cop today, so he would obey that order. Fortunately there were many ways to play the role and Les was a star pupil during that training.

Les had taken advantage of his wounds and appeared to take great pleasure in ripping off the bandages that Bobby had applied and sticking a finger in the bullet holes. He made sure to mention that he had been the first to 'interview' the prisoner across the hall and looked forward to a round of 'chatting' with the unfortunate detainee. He watched with glee as the wounded man had become even more pale. Les had then accidentally leaned on one of the bullet wounds as he pressed the bandage back on and secured the tape drawing a moan.

Les then took a knife out of a sheath at his ankle and stropped it slowly and carefully, stopping and checking it for sharpness. He then sharpened it some more. The man's eyes never left the knife, almost mesmerized by the monotonous motion. Les didn't look at the man, and he never spoke.

Suddenly, Les had let the knife fly, missing his ear by less than an inch. He walked closer, and taking it from the pillow where it had impaled itself, he spoke.

"I don't have a lot of time. My friend wants to chat too. I can hear him next door. It appears that he is just warming up in there and the night is young. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way."

Les was able to glean some information quickly before Bobby came in. Just for good measure, he had had Tank walk in and stand by the door. The sheer terror on the face of the man seeing Tank standing at the door with his arms crossed over that massive chest was enough to spill whatever additional information he had been holding back.

~~~o0o~~~

Tank walked out with a smirk on his face. Not for one minute did he think that Les was finished. By the time he was done, the poor fucker laying on the bed would have confessed to all his misdeeds from childhood on, just for shits and giggles.

He waited for Les in the hallway.

Les came out and leaned against the other wall. He had more blood on his hands but a smile creased his lips.

"I got a name, how did you do?"

Tank grunted.

"Get a clean up crew in here. Patch up the wounded one again and keep him alive, if at all possible. I need to talk to Ranger."

~~~o0o~~~

Hector received a beep on his phone. He headed for his office.