Chapter 15

Kendra Davis spent the next four days running, learning self-defense techniques and weapons skills, honing her observation skills, and learning how to shake off a tail in a car before the final test – Dodge City. By Saturday afternoon at four, when it was all over, all she wanted to do was go home, take a long, hot shower – the water pressure in the cabins at Station One was barely enough to get clean, let alone massage tired muscles – and sleep for about twelve hours. A group of fifteen agent candidates had started the course on Wednesday, but only ten were left, the others having chosen to leave early. Kendra had been warned that the attrition rate was generally between fifty and sixty percent of those who had started the course, and that even those who managed to finish wouldn't necessarily be recommended for further training. Of the ten agent candidates still left standing on Saturday afternoon, Kendra and Retta Scott, an African-American woman in her early thirties who had spent ten years in the Air Force before resigning her commission and applying for the Agency, were the only women left in the group.

James Jeter, their former Navy SEAL trainer, gathered the ten of them in the dining hall which also served as their briefing room and gave them their final briefing. "Just now, you were asked to write down who you thought was our 'ringer'," he said. "I am pleased to announce that two of you were correct. I will now call the names of those who will be continuing their training. As I call your name, step forward to receive your Agency ball cap and trainee identification badge from our ringer, whom you know as Agent James Bishop. Come on up, Jim."

Jamie stepped forward. Kendra and Billy and Jeannie Melrose's daughter Retta , both of whom had guessed right, turned to each other and high -fived.

Jamie stepped up and said, "My name is James King. I work out of the New York office, where I maintain a cover as a photographer. I want to congratulate the six of you who will be completing your training and wish you the best of luck in the future."

Kendra's eyes grew wide as she put two and two together and realized that their ringer agent was Phillip's younger brother. He saw her reaction and quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing, but when Jeter called her name and she went up to receive her ball cap and badge, he said, "My big brother is very good at keeping secrets, Ms. Davis."

"So it would seem, Mr. King, but then I think it's a family trait."

"Yes."

Six of the candidates made the cut; the other four, all men, were escorted out of the room, though not before one of them was heard to mutter something under his breath that indicated he thought that Kendra and Retta had been given unfair consideration. Retta turned to her new friend and said, "Get used to it, honey; I've been dealing with it all my adult life. He thinks I got the promotion because they had to fill their quota for black women – you know the drill. Never mind that I worked twice as hard twice as long to get where I was, there's always someone who thinks I had an unfair advantage, like the fact that I'm Billy Melrose's daughter. That's why I didn't sign up for the Agency right out of college, you know: Daddy was still Director of Field Operations back then, and I wanted to prove that I could make it on my own."

"That's why I didn't apply for West Point, Retta; I come from a long line of West Point graduates, and I didn't want to be seen as just "General Davis's granddaughter" or "Colonel Davis's daughter."

"So you do understand. You and I are going to be a great team, Kendra."

"I think so too. Is Retta short for Coretta, as in Mrs. Martin Luther King?"

"That's right; you're smart to figure that out. My Daddy was a trailblazer too; even in the '80's, black men in jobs like his in the intelligence community were pretty thin on the ground."

They looked up as Agents King and Jeter came over to them.

"I see that you're already well on your way to becoming a team, Agents Scott and Davis," Jeter said. "That's good. You have the next week off; classes begin promptly at eight on Monday, June 16th; I recommend that you show up a few minutes early. The van will take you back to Washington; you have fifteen minutes to clear your cabins and report back here."

On the way back to the city, Retta said, "I'm going to go home and hug my baby girl, and then I'm going to take a long, hot bath and sleep for about twelve hours."

"You have a daughter?"

"Her name is Jenna, and she's eight. Her daddy and I were married right out of Howard University ten years ago and both of us were commissioned in the Air Force; he was shot down and killed during the Gulf War six years ago."

"I'm so sorry, Retta."

"It was tough, but my parents have been wonderful. They supported me when I was on active duty with the Air Force, and they supported me when I decided to apply for the Agency."

"My parents have been very supportive too."

"It makes a difference, believe me."

When the van reached Georgetown and the riders got out, an adorable girl in shorts and a 101 Dalmatians t-shirt shouted, "Mommy!" and ran to embrace Retta. "Did you do good, Mommy?"

"She sure did, Miss Jenna," Kendra said. "Hi, I'm Kendra. I heard all about you from your mom."

"Are you going to be an agent too?"

"Yes, she is, and she's going to be my partner, so we can look out for each other, just like you always have a buddy in Girl Scouts," Retta said. " Jenna's flying up from Brownies to Junior Scouts this year, Ms. Kendra."

"That's very exciting; I still have my wings from when I flew up a long time ago," Kendra said. "See you a week from Monday, Retta, and you take good care of your mom, okay, Jenna?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

Kendra watched them go and then walked over to where Phillip and Jim were standing together. " Sneaky, aren't you, King Man?" she said. "Never let on that your brother was coming in from New York to be our ringer, or even that he was an agent. Oh, no, he's just a photographer, trying to make it in New York."

"That would have been telling," Phillip said. " The Brain here says that you and Ms. Scott busted the bell curve."

"Yes, they did," Jim agreed. "I know you're tired and you want nothing more than a decent hot shower and about twelve hours of sleep, Davis, so if I don't see you for a few months, congratulations on a job well done."

"Thanks, Agent King. How did you hit upon the cover name of Bishop? Is it because they're both chess pieces?"

"Partly, but when I was thinking about applying, I took a stroll through Oak Hill Cemetery here in Georgetown and I came across the grave of James Bishop, who died in 1861 when he was only thirty-two. Turns out he was a Civil War casualty, killed at First Bull Run. The first name was the same, kings and bishops are both chess pieces, so it worked."

"That's a fascinating story. Yes, I'm ready to go home, Phillip."

"Then your chariot awaits, my lady."

Kendra fell asleep in the car on the way home; even with the car's air conditioning running, the car was warm and she was exhausted. When Phillip stopped in the driveway of her home, she woke up.

"Hey there," he said, leaning over to kiss the top of her head. "Want me to drive around some more so you can sleep?"

"No, I want my shower, then I'll sleep."

" Okay." He came around to help her out of the car, grabbed her gym bag out of the back seat, and said, " Did you get a lot of reading done?"

"Never cracked either book. When I wasn't moving, I was sleeping or studying for the next day. I don't know why they even tell us we can bring books; nobody has time to read them."

He accompanied her into the house, where Matt came to meet them. "Well, Kenleigh, how was it?"

"Hot, tiring, the food was crummy, and I passed, Daddy! Phillip's brother Jim was our ringer, and he said I did a great job."

Matt hugged her. "Your brother is an agent, Phillip? I thought he was a photographer in New York."

"Oh, he is, Matt; he's also an agent, has been for almost two years now. He's only twenty-two, but Jamie was always the smart one in the family; he took dual credit courses in high school, so he had an associate's degree by the time he finished his high school diploma, and then he zipped through Pratt in a year and a half so that he had his bachelor's by the time he was twenty."

"Impressive, but being a photographer is a perfect cover for his job, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. I'll be going now, K. D."

"Thanks for the ride home, King Man. Will you be coming to the airport tomorrow when my grandparents come in?"

"You bet. My best to Ms. Deb, Matt, and we'll see you tomorrow."

Phillip gave Kendra a hug, shook Matt's hand, and left the house.

"Is Mom asleep?" Kendra asked.

"Just resting, but she'll want to see you before you hit the rack, Kenleigh."

"Of course. I made a new friend this week, Daddy; I'll tell you all about it after I wake up tomorrow morning."

"That will be good."