For once, I don't really have anything to say here... Got a new computer, that's exciting, because it means I don't have to do battle with my computer to make it let me upload... My old one was like facing the Big Boss in a video game a million times a day. And that's just to check my emails. So you can probably imagine how frustrating typing was. BUT I PERSEVERED FOR YOU SAKE! Anyway, here's a stress free chapter.

Chapter 36

Carter's POV

I was well on my way to winning this blasted game against the combined efforts of Lester and Bobby when all hell broke loose. One minute there was an easy atmosphere. Everyone was lounging about at the end of a long day, just relaxing. There was a good amount of noise throughout the room as everyone got caught up and hung out. But suddenly everything was deathly quiet.

I looked up from the table where I was analysing future plays in time to watch a familiar man reach over Magenta's shoulder, pull a card from Lester's hand and throw it on the table. It was a good play. Completely messed all the plans I'd been making, I noted absently as Magenta stared at the retracting hand. Her eyes widen for a fraction of a moment before she seemed to make sense of it.

"Diesel?" she asked, not moving an inch. She was still leaning over the couch between Bobby and Lester, and her face was still turned in the direction of the cards they held. I was impressed with the amount of calm she maintained, given some recent events I had accidentally heard about while passing Tanks office a few days ago.

Tank confirmed her guess with a short, "Yep," and I wondered what he was like at home. He never spoke like that to me, or any of the other new recruits. He was always very authoritative and kinda drill sergeanty. With the upper strata of men he was more casual with his attitude, but still authoritative. Everyone seemed to take commands from him. But just now with Magenta, it was almost as if he were any other guy on the street. He just handed her a 'yep' like they were best buds and no one was in charge or had a job to do at all. It was an amazing transformation to witness and I could help the urge to observe more interactions between the two of them.

"He just appeared directly behind me, didn't he?" Magenta asked, raising her head and consequently catching my gaze in the process.

"Sure did," I replied, staring at the man. It was the only logical explanation, even if it wasn't so logical. One minute he wasn't even in the room, and the next he was there. I was about to ask about the unusual talent when he suddenly disappeared again. "How does he do that?" I asked the crowd instead.

"And how does he know how to play this game?" Bobby added.

Her brow furrowed as she took in what we'd said. "Why are we talking like he isn't here?" Quickly she turned around, obviously searching for the man in question. "Dang it!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air. "I'm definitely never gonna get used to that. Why did he disappear again?"

In the second it took me to formulate my response to her question – "No idea" – Diesel had reappeared, grabbed Magenta by the shoulders and popped out again. That's when the gates of hell seemed to open up, just below our building.

"Where did she go?" someone asked.

"Who was that?" a guy to my left whispered, I recognised the voice as one of my fellow newbies.

I was about to reply when, as one, Tank, Bobby and Lester all breathed, "Fuck."

Dominic bolted into the room at that moment, blurting hurriedly, "The computers are doing something funky. All the monitors for the Rangeman building are scrambled. What do I -." He stopped mid sentence and looked around the shocked faces. "What? What happened?"

"Magenta's disappeared," Tank informed him. "Don't worry about the monitors they'll return to normal in a minute or so. I want you to check all the offices and cubicles in the control room, Hernandez, you go with him. You three," he pointed to three guys that had been grouped around the small table near the door. Take the below ground floor. Check every single room. Storage included."

"But you need a pass key to get into that area and neither of them has-."

"Check anyway," Tank barked. All casualness had completely left him. This was Commander Tank. Giving orders and expecting no back talk. "Phil, Cal, Hal and Tate, basement. Jordan, Zero and Trent, check the private offices on the lower floors." Men were scurrying out of the break room as their assignments were given. "Lester and Bobby, seventh floor. Gizmo, notify Ella and Louis and help them check their apartment. Sparky, garage. Connell, lobby. You," he pointed at a guy, clearly forgetting his name. "Check all the conference rooms. Except four. We don't need Ranger breathing down our necks just yet. The rest of you, every single apartment. Check them. Check them twice. Pretend you're Santa Clause. I don't care. GO!"

I was at the very back of a throng of other Rangemen on their way out the door to seek and destroy. Maybe not destroy, but this was definitely something like an epic game of hide and seek. I was usually an expert at hide and seek, but somehow I knew I couldn't use my usual methods of finding the hiders. There would be no analysing air flow and fabric drape. No Calculating space. And worst of all, no little indicators that I could look out for to lead me to their hiding spot. In this game, I was as much at a disadvantage as anyone else. I was almost over the threshold when one large, dark hand pulled me back into the room.

"Tell me everything," Tank demanded, crossing his massive arms over his chest and planting his size larger-than-life boots firmly apart.

Confused, I began to sputter out the first coherent thought that popped into my mind. "I'm not involved."

He startled me by rolling his eyes. He rolled his freaking eyes! "What did you see? What did you notice? And while you're at it, tell me about the ladies that came in today."

I felt like a flaming gold fish, standing there with my mouth opening and closing but no sound coming out. Tank was talking to me. Not barking. Not ordering. Not commanding. Not sneering. He was talking. Like we were semi-equals. I know I shouldn't be shocked by this, but it was a little hard to take so soon after witnessing the interaction with Magenta.

"I need you to focus, Carter," he said calmly, uncrossing his arms to appear more relaxed. I noted that none of the tension in his shoulders and back had eased though. This was a man on the edge pretending he wasn't. "I know you notice things others don't. What did you notice about Diesel? It doesn't matter how insignificant it seems, I want to hear it. And everything you took in when you interacted with the women in the lobby earlier today."

Nodding, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment. "Tension lines around the eyes and mouth," I said. "Jerky movements. I'm not expert, but my guess is he's recently been in an argument." He was nodding thoughtfully as he led me to the small table and sat down. I thought for a moment, but couldn't think of anything else that was out of the ordinary to say about Diesel and his behaviour. Suddenly Magenta's facial expression just before she disappeared popped into my mind. "She was scared," I told Tank. "She didn't know what was happening. Wasn't expecting it. I don't think she was used to Diesel touching her either."

"She only met him a couple of days ago," Tank informed me unnecessarily. Magenta had told me all about her week, skipping over the embarrassing events of her hallucinations. "And given recent events, I think her reaction was pretty acceptable." I agreed quietly, still thinking of Diesel. "Tell me about the ladies, then. Was there anything unusual?" I looked at him for the first time since sitting down. "Apart from the fact that they came into the building without having an appointment or giving us prior warning. Yeah, I know it's unusual. I've spent my fair share of time at the reception desk."

"The short blonde was wearing a wig," I told him with certainty When he looked at me weird I explained, "It was a very good wig. She might have gotten away with it if anyone else had been manning the desk. Her eyebrows didn't match her hair colour; that was my first clue that she wasn't a natural blonde. What indicated it was a wig was that she kept scratching and tugging her hair. I doubt she'd been here before, she was looking around curiously at everything and her eyes widened when she first entered like she was surprised by what she saw. She did all the talking. Kept fidgeting.?

"Nervous?" he asked.

I nodded. "Probably. She could just be a fiddler. Some people are like that, like Magenta."

"What else?"

"The auburn haired beauty seemed more familiar with her surroundings. Nervous none-the-less. Her hair was her own, but it wasn't her natural colour either. I could see her regrowth. She seemed confused about something if I read her expressions right."

"You don't know what it was?"

Shaking my head, I ran a hand through my hair. It was a habit it had developed when I barely had any hair. I'd rub my head when I was thinking. As my hair grew out it turned into finger combing. "She didn't say a word the entire time she was there. Like I said, the short one did the talking."

We were silent for a minute or so. I was trying to remember more details that might help Tank in whatever he was trying to do right now. Tank was probably trying to piece information together. The silence was finally broken by a familiar voice that I felt sure neither of us wanted to hear at that moment.

"Is Magenta back from the movies yet?" Ranger asked from behind me. He sounded tired, which I didn't doubt, since he'd had to sit through seemingly endless meetings all day.

"Yes... and no...," I replied hesitantly at the same time as Tank spun a confident lie: "She's having dinner with Meli."

We'd been caught. One of us was lying. Now he was going to try and figure out which one. My guess was that this was a problem for both of us, because (a) Tank had lied, and (b) Ranger scared the shit out of me. Usually, I didn't scare easily, but I'd seen him a totally of two times since I'd joined the Rangeman team. And he always looked angry. Apart from that there was my less than encouraging interview during which time he simply stared at me, occasionally barking questions. I was starting to think he didn't like me.

He crossed to the table and placed his palms flat on the surface, leaning in intimidatingly. "It doesn't take an expert to know that one of you is lying," he said, looking pointedly at Tank. "What I need to know is why you lied."

Genny's POV

I knew the moment we'd arrived back at Rangeman – or what I rightly assumed was Rangeman – because my stomach was churning and I almost fell over from dizziness. I was ready for the stomach upset this time, and managed not to vomit on anyone's shoes. I'd barely gained my feet when Diesel was unceremoniously thrusting me onto the couch. I figured he was afraid I'd get his feet this time, since I'd already ruined his shoes once today. In the next instant though, he was knocked to the ground by an entire body colliding with his.

"How dare you!" Auntie Mare seethed, sitting on his chest. "How fucking DARE you! Do you know how much grief you caused? I was out of my mind with worry! And it's all. Your. Fault." She punctuated the last three words with some forceful pokes to his forehead. "I should remove your manhood! So help me, if you've harmed a single hair on that girl's head I will make you wish you'd never been born."

"I'm fine, Auntie Mare," I croaked, still battling my nausea. But she wasn't listening. She was still threatening a bemused looking Diesel.

"I've done things to men who've hurt my Plum girls that would make your skin crawl," she was saying in an eerily quiet voice when Papa appeared in front of me.

He simply stared into my eyes for a few moments. I was trying to put on a brave face for him, but I felt like I was falling apart. The nausea wasn't easing like it had before and the strain of having watched my mother's emotional pain as she made preparations for my future was weighing down on me. Add to that the confusion caused by the last fragment of conversation I'd witnessed, and I was pretty much a wreck. I couldn't let it show though. I had to be strong. I'd already showed too much vulnerability this week.

"Are you okay?" Papa asked eventually, still scrutinising my face.

That was the end of my facade. The tears that had been stinging behind my eyes flowed over, tracking down my cheeks. Snot trickled from my nose and I hastily sniffed it back up and wiped the back of my hand across my nose. For a moment I just sat there pathetically, staring back into Papa's quietly concerned eyes.

"I feel horrible," I managed through my tears and flung my arms around his neck in a hug.

He simply held me for a moment, making soothing motions on my back. When he picked me up and stood, I wrapped my legs around his waist like I used to when I was six and he carried me up to the apartment, indicating for Bobby to follow.

Don't forget to review. And also, it probably goes without saying, but ya'll should probably stay on Mary Lou's good side.