Disclaimer: Anything recognizable belongs to Janet Evanovich, and the rest is mine. I'm grateful she lets us play.
Warning: Dark fic. Adult language, adult content, violence, smut. This is written for mature audiences only.
A/N: I decided not to let the darkness of the last chapter simmer for a week in everyone's brains. This is lighter and begins to explain the why.
Chapter Four
Ranger's POV
Three Months Later
I step off the Rangeman private jet at the airport in Trenton and let out a slow sigh of relief. Home.
When I told my handler this mission would be my last, the government extracted every minute they could from me with the seemingly never-ending deployment from hell. Stephanie was the bright light I honed in on, and thinking of her gave me the purpose I needed to focus on the end game. My team met the mission objectives early, but at a cost. Being in a combat environment for nearly a year takes a toll on the psyche, and my debrief period lasted for six weeks. My team stayed together as we took advantages of VA resources to process and allowed our bodies, both physically and mentally, to heal.
Tank is standing outside a Cayenne on the edge of the tarmac and hugs me as a brother when I reach the vehicle. "Good to see your ugly face again, Ranger," he says, and I smile. Tank passes me the keys, and I feel satisfaction as the engine roars to life.
"Report," I bark, and Tank grins with satisfaction before leaning back in the seat and beginning the data dump. He tells me about revenues and losses, areas the business is expanding and struggling, basic personnel reports, Lester's antics, Julie, and bits of Trenton gossip he thinks will interest me. There's one person he doesn't mention, and my internal radar starts beeping.
"Stephanie?" I say, pulling into the garage. Tank sighs and avoids eye contact as I place the vehicle into park.
"She's alive, Ranger," he says, reading my mind. "The rest of the Core Team is assembled in your office."
My thoughts race as I take the stairs two at a time up to five. "Attention on deck!" one of the former Navy Rangeman calls out, and everyone springs to attention before clapping and hooting. "Welcome back, Ranger!" the guys call out, and I wave at them to sit down with a half grin before entering the office. It is good to be back, but where is the best part?
Lester immediately embraces me in a big bear hug, which I expected from him, but holds me a little longer and a little tighter. He lets go without a word, passing me off to Bobby, and my radar pings louder. Bobby pats my back in a one-armed bro-hug, and I move to sit behind my desk with a deep sense of satisfaction. Tank steps into the room and stands in front of the closed door.
"Stephanie is," Tank starts and falters. "Different."
"Explain," I say tersely, my impatience growing. The guys look between each other.
"Something happened, we aren't sure what, but Beautiful has cut us out of her life. We don't know where she lives, and we aren't able to track her movements," Lester starts heavily.
"We've tried," Tank cuts in as I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest. "She's paranoid about security, and any effort we make at planting a device or putting a tail on her is quickly thwarted. I suspect Hector might be helping her, but I can't prove it."
"Show him the video," Lester says, and Tank passes me a tablet with a saved file of the surveillance feed from outside Rangeman cued. I glance at the date time stamp and see it's from about three months ago before I press play.
I watch in disbelief as a woman I barely recognize as Stephanie begins dragging items out of her car and assembling them on the lawn. "What does she say here?" I demand, keeping my eyes on the screen.
"Do not track me," Tank replies, and I raise my eyebrow slightly.
I watch as the feed ends with the fireball and rewind it to a still shot just before she throws the flaming bottle. It's Stephanie, but her expression is completely devoid of emotion. Her face is blank, but rage fills her eyes.
"This is Bomber's medical file," Bobby says, passing a second tablet to me. "She's continued to use Rangeman for medical insurance, but she seeks care at different providers and clinics outside the Burg, rarely going to the same place twice. It's my belief she doesn't know I receive a copy of the claims as the default primary medical provider, and I was afraid if I approached her about any of this that she would stop seeking care."
The file begins with an ambulance transport, x-ray, CT-scan, sutures, bone setting, casting and removal, and continues with numerous ER visits for stitches, burn treatments, a pelvic exam and STD testing, physical therapy, as well as prescriptions for pain medicines, antibiotics, and respiratory illness.
I lean back in my chair and close my eyes as I try to reconcile what my team is telling me about Stephanie with my memory of her. I'm astounded things have deteriorated to this point, and no one was able to intervene. Their first observation is the changes they observed seemed sudden, but it doesn't follow that there wouldn't be a specific event or events that could explain it.
I steady my breathing and keep my emotions in check. I trust my friends, but perhaps they have been in the middle of the situation for so long they no longer see it clearly. I open my eyes and lean forward.
"Treat Stephanie like a case and walk back the history," I state. "You said you think something happened, but you don't know what. Let's break this down."
All three men sit and look thoughtful. "For the first couple of months after you left, Beautiful seemed sad but normal. She tried to make it work with Morelli, but it was clear there was tension between them," Lester muses.
"She didn't work much here, and I heard from Vinnie she was pressuring him for a couple of higher bond FTAs," Tank said. "That's how Steph was assigned Farro."
"Farro?" I question.
"That takedown went south, and that's what lead to the first few items in her medical report," Bobby states.
"Show me the official file," I direct, logging into my computer. Tank tells me the share drive address, and I begin reading. I'm immediately angry Stephanie went after this skip, and I push the emotions aside to continue reading with a clear mind. This FTA was well outside of Steph's ability level, and Vinnie should never have given her this file, no matter what Steph said to him. We all know that Steph isn't keen on taking partners, and if she does, Lula is not going to be an asset in apprehending someone like Farro.
I move onto the official police report, and the first thing I notice is how short it is. I pull open Stephanie's statement, and it's even sparser. I skim the forensics report and slow when I reach the attached photos of both Steph and the crime scene. It's a miracle my Babe is alive.
"Tell me what you remember happening," I order, looking first at Tank.
"The control room notified me of a shooting involving Steph they heard over the police scanner. Lester and I suited up and raced over to her tracker location. I entered the apartment first, and Lester followed. Lester went to Steph, and I checked the vitals on the FTA," Tank says.
"Beautiful was standing in the kitchen, and she looked dazed," Lester picks up. "When I tried to get her attention, she didn't seem to hear me. After the third try, Steph shook her head and focused on me. I asked her what happened, and she gave me a basic rundown, about the same as the police report. I didn't have a chance to ask her any questions before Eddie arrived on the scene. I gathered that Beautiful called him, and he got there before the rest of TPD."
"Eddie escorted Steph from the crime scene, and we followed," Tank interrupts. "Morelli met us on the stairs and started going off on her giving him heartburn and not being good at her job. The usual. Steph demanded Morelli move out of her way, but he refused. She kneed him in the junk, and when he doubled over in pain, pushed him down with her shoulder. That would be the official break-up."
That's interesting. Steph normally ignores conflict and seldom instigates it. That's a strong reaction from her, especially when leaving a crime scene. "Was Eddie the only person Steph called from the scene?" I ask.
"I don't know," Tank replies, his eyebrows furrowing. "I'll get Rodriguez on it," and he steps out of the office. I use the next five minutes to reread the file on Farro carefully.
"This is Steph's call history," Tanks says, walking into the office and setting a stapled report on my desk. "She disabled her phone after Farro, but she retained the same phone number. We think she's forwarding messages to a burner. She uses a web service to make untraceable calls. The last calls she made and answered on her old phone are following the shooting. She called Morelli for two minutes and immediately afterward, Eddie for one. Morelli called back three minutes after that for a one-minute conversation, and he didn't called again."
I rest my elbow on my desk and rub my hand over my mouth. "Do you know if Morelli was cheating on Steph?" I ask, looking up from the report.
"The Chief asked us to do surveillance on Morelli a month after you left as part of a character and fitness investigation. He was considering assigning him undercover on a special assignment, but he wasn't sure if Morelli was a good fit. Our findings showed he had a long-term affair going with Terry Gilman, which is still ongoing. The contract with TPD required confidentiality. We didn't tell Steph about the affair. Due to Morelli's mob connections as a result of his affair with Gilman, he was passed over for the assignment, and his career has stalled," Tank says.
Steph broke up with Morelli at the crime scene, but she is the champion at avoiding interpersonal conflict. I looked into Morelli myself before I left on deployment, and I didn't know about the affair. I think about all the times I pushed Steph away, believing him to love her and to be a good match for her. I'm not often wrong about people, and the discovery that he violated Steph's trust makes me furious. I can only imagine how she felt, especially if she was already in a highly charged emotional environment. I sit quietly for a moment and focus on putting my anger aside.
"I'm guessing she found out about the affair, and that's what the calls before and after Eddie were about," I say after a long pause.
Lester quietly whistles. "That makes sense, Ranger. Beautiful was enraged when she saw Morelli. I didn't recall right away, because I tend to tune out Morelli's rants, but, more specifically, he said that Steph had a lot of nerve hanging up on him and refusing to answer his calls, plural, after she killed someone. She must have blocked his number, and that's a strong reaction for her, especially if she reached out to him for help first," he says reflectively.
"Okay, so far we know that Steph shot Farro, called Morelli, figured out he was having an affair and hung up before calling Eddie to the crime scene. Morelli called back, and Steph hung up and blocked his calls. You guys arrived on the scene, and Steph seemed dazed. Eddie escorted everyone downstairs, and in the stairwell, Morelli blocked Steph's exit. He ranted at her, and she broke up with him and took him down," I recant, and everyone nods their agreement. "Continue."
"I first saw Bomber at the ambulance," Bobby chimes in. "Looking back on it, my first impression was shell shock. Steph answered questions, but she didn't volunteer information and was fairly expressionless. Her heart rate was exceptionally high, like 170s and 80s, as was her blood pressure. I observed a cut on her temple with some swelling and bruising, but nothing that appeared to be severe. Forensics came in and asked permission to take their samples, and Steph agreed but asked me to stay." Bobby leans forward from his perch on the sofa, places his elbows on his knees and chin in his hands as a pensive looks forms.
"You know, I've treated Bomber at several scenes and with worse injuries, but she never seemed so insecure or out of sorts before. I should have noticed it at the time, but our focus was on working the scene and getting her out of there. It wasn't until forensics went to swab her hands that I noticed the bruising and swelling on Steph's wrist and finger. I don't think she did either," Bobby reflects somberly.
"When forensics finished, I went into the ambulance to check on her," Tank says, and I shift my gaze to him. "I called her by my nickname for her, Little Girl, and she lost it. Steph started screaming and was fighting me to get to the door of the ambulance."
"I sedated her, and we transported her to the hospital immediately. All in all, her physical injuries weren't too bad. The ER wanted to keep her until she woke up, but I convinced them to release her to my care. Even with the drive back to Haywood, Steph remained asleep for around fourteen hours. I spent the night in the adjacent office to monitor her, and Tank and Lester joined me about fifteen minutes before Bomber woke up. I'd say that was around 0500," Bobby states.
"You know, even then, she was already different," Lester muses, shaking his head. "Beautiful had a blank face, but she seemed sad. She bolted immediately, refusing to stay or even let one of us drive her back to her place. I followed her at a distance but returned when I saw the lights go on in her apartment."
"Steph vacated her apartment later that day and destroyed or relocated all of her trackers. She more or less went underground for a month before beginning skip tracing again," Tanks says heavily, and his shoulders drop.
"Did you see Steph when she woke up?" I ask, trying to get a better picture of what would make Stephanie run away. That's what she usually does when she feels threatened by people or is in emotional distress. Bobby said she was unusually dependent on him in the ambulance before she snapped after Tank called her Little Girl. The two things don't add up.
Bobby shakes his head no. "I heard the bathroom door and met her in the exam room when she came out. Tank and Lester met up with her in the hallway after she gathered her things.
"What were you guys doing just before Steph awoke?" I continue, my internal radar pinging loudly.
"Talking," Lester shrugs. "Bobby gave us an update on her condition."
"Oh, shit," Tank says, sitting down on the couch. "She must have heard us."
Lester rolls his head back and bangs his closed fist on his thighs. "Fuck!"
I look between the three of them as their expressions become serious, and it's difficult for me to be patient while they gather their thoughts. Tank speaks up first.
"All of us were frustrated about Steph's involvement with Farro. You know how it is when someone is shot at close range. Horrible. It shook all of us that Steph was involved and how close she came to dying. We hated that she didn't call us for back-up," Tank says. "I don't remember who said what, but Steph may have heard us say that if she continued to refuse our help or training and kept going after skips like Farro, we believed that she would end up dead. At least one of us said something about how you were going to take us to the mats for what had happened. I said that I loved Steph, but my first loyalty was to you, and I was concerned about what her death would do to you. We were all in a dark place that morning."
Bobby leans back in the sofa and laces his fingers over his head. "If Bomber heard that part of our conversation, it would explain her reaction that morning. She would have already been emotionally vulnerable, and that must have felt like a betrayal. I never considered it before, because Steph's always bounced back from everything without doing much talking," he says before hanging his head. "We fucked up."
I respect Tank for being honest, and I'm not going to lash out at him over it, at least not right now. I turn in my chair and look at the sky through the window, keeping my blank face in place as a guard against my internal turmoil. I gave these guys one instruction before I left, and that was to watch out for Stephanie. In reality, they placed themselves and me above her, which was the last thing I wanted to have happened. There will be a reckoning, but it needs to wait.
I face forward and say evenly, "Tell me about her behavior since." I want the guys to continue to be forthcoming.
"Closed off," Tank says. "She's an expert at your blank face. One-word answers, if you get any at all. If I slip and call her Little Girl, she's instantly angry, but the only place you see it is in her eyes, and it's scary. She's also paranoid about security, and she obsessively inspects her vehicles and personal possessions for trackers. She sees and loses a tail fairly quickly. Steph doesn't use her bank for financial transactions anymore, so I assume she's using cash or gift cards. There are no records for utilities or property agreements in her name or any known aliases."
Lester looks at me apprehensively, and I raise an eyebrow in question. "You aren't going to want to hear this Ranger, but she's also developing a reputation on the streets as being promiscuous. She's known to frequent seedy bars for one-night stands, and the rumors are that the interactions are very physical," he says uncomfortably. "What's odd about that, outside of the obvious, is that Steph adamantly refuses to let any of us touch her. In the rare instances we do interact, if any of us places a casual hand on her or even brushes past her, she automatically tenses and forcibly pushes us away. I've observed, undetected, or at least I think, Beautiful in a few of the establishments, and I was astounded at how much tequila she could pack away without showing any effects. I think she's, at a minimum, abusing alcohol."
"Steph shut down betting against her at the police station several months ago, and since then, her new TPD nickname is Rambette," Tanks says. "She's developed a habit of trying to steal Rangeman FTA files, and Connie and I are increasingly at odds over it. I'll be the first to say her competencies as a bounty hunter has improved by leaps and bounds, but she only works alone. I wouldn't do some of the takedowns she attempts alone, so I'd add risk-taking to our list of descriptors. Anyway, as a result, she's developed a shoot first and ask questions later reputation, but I'm not sure it's completely warranted."
"More positively, Bomber has struck me as very determined, and someone, again we think Hector, has been teaching her weapons skills and self-defense maneuvers," Bobby says.
Lester nods his head yes. "Agreed. Beautiful forced me off balance and pulled her gun on me to escape when I thought I had her cornered after I intervened in a takedown she shouldn't have been near a couple of months ago," Lester adds.
"We've tried to determine if there are any patterns in Bomber's routine," Bobby adds, "Since we are unable to track her the usual ways. The nearest we can determine is that, if she plans on going into the bonds office, she is in and out the moment Connie or Vinnie unlock the doors. Connie and Lula have tried to stall Steph if she goes in later to get her capture check, but she doesn't have any patience for it. We rarely arrive before Steph is leaving or has left. Steph usually goes to her parent's house for dinner once a week, but she changes the night and never stays long."
I pick up a pen and roll it between my fingers. "You're saying that Steph acts as closed off and paranoid as me, struggles with alcohol like you," I think aloud, pointing my pen at Tank, "uses sex like you," I continue, pointing at Lester, "and, seeks out family, despite their past behavior, like you," I finish, pointing to Bobby. Everyone nods thoughtfully.
I continue to turn my pen as my brain turns the guys' descriptions of Stephanie around. It's difficult for me to imagine my wild-haired, blue-eyed, free-spirited woman so severe and closed off. It's a sudden and radical change, and I have to fight the urge to run out and be Steph's white knight. I'm also working hard to keep my emotions at bay so I can focus on the mission at hand, namely help my Babe.
"I know why we are the way we are, but why would the darkness we fight manifest itself in Stephanie?" I muse. I turn back to the case file on Farro, wanting something to jump out at me.
"Did Steph go to counseling or talk to anyone after shooting Farro? Do we know anything else about what happened other than the police report?" I ask, feeling frustrated, knowing there's something we are missing.
Bobby stands and begins pacing the room. "No, nothing, and there's an excellent chance we drove her away," he says forlornly.
I scroll back through the photos. "Let's recreate the what happened between Farro and Stephanie," I say, and the guys stand and push the chairs back. "Tank, you're Farro, and Lester, you're Stephanie. I'll narrate the report, and Bobby, you collaborate the forensics and medical evidence."
Lester and Tank demonstrate how Steph could have knocked on the door, tasered Farro, and attempted to handcuff him.
"The blow to Bomber's head would have come from above her," Bobby says, "So she must have been knocked down sometime after placing the first cuff on him. The taser could have initially worked on Farro, but, the charge if it wasn't set high enough, a man his size could have been able to recover faster than Steph expected."
Tank pushes Lester onto his back. "Time out," Lester calls. "At the crime scene, Beautiful told me that after the initial physical contact, Farro attempted to assault her sexually." Tank and Lester repeat the reenactment so that Tank falls on top of Lester, pinning him to the ground.
"We observed bruising on Stephanie here," Bobby says, crouching beside Tank and Lester while pointing to the inside of Lester's thighs, "And here, which looked like a handprint," he says placing Tank's hand over Lester's right pec.
Lester and Tank look grim. "Steph wouldn't take this without a fight," I state, forcing myself to remain dispassionate, but the idea of Farro trying to force himself on Steph makes me want to resurrect him so I can kill him myself. "What if she tried to fight back, and that's when Farro punched her in the temple?" Tank pulls back his fist to demonstrate the blow.
"Beautiful says she fought him off. She forced me off-balance to get past me in the alley. What if she did the same thing to Farro? After he struck her, Farro could have remained off center as he recovered, and she could have rolled away, at least enough to get to free her arms and reach for something in her belt or pocket," Lester says, and he and Tank reset the demo.
"This is when Farro went for the gun. The table Steph pointed to wasn't far from the body. He could have kept himself upright when Steph rolled away and reached up for it," Tank says.
"Pause," Bobby states, walking back to look at the photos with me. He pulls up the x-ray file of her broken wrist and finger. "Lester, what did Bomber tell you happened next?"
Lester pauses as he recollects before saying, "She thought Farrow was going to shoot her when he dropped the gun due to a spasm in his arm from the taser. They fought for the gun, and the weapon fired."
"The break indicates over-rotation from a level plane of motion," Bobby says, pulling his gun out from his leg holster. He drops the magazine on my desk and verifies the chamber is empty before closing the slide. "Farro would have the advantage in picking up a dropped gun if Steph was still laying flat, so how did she get to it first?" Bobby says, placing the gun on the floor between Tank and Lester.
It hits me with a knife twist to my stomach. "Stephanie was on her knees already," I say. "Farro was about to execute her when he dropped the gun."
"Fuck," Lester breaths as he pulls himself up to his knees and raises his hands. Tank points the gun at Lester, and we all freeze as we visualize Steph instead of Lester.
I slowly let out a long stream of air as a chill ripples through me.
Tank shakes his arm and drops the gun, and Lester and Tank dive for it in slow motion. Bobby finetunes the positions of their hands and bodies and begins to guide their movements. "It makes the most sense to me that they were pushing against each other to control the direction of the barrel. It's unlikely Steph was able to get to her feet when she grabbed the gun, but she may have been able to get her feet under her. But how did she break her wrist?" he continues absentmindedly, trying different manipulations. I watch and mentally replay the reenactment.
"Steph did what she always does," I say, standing. I tap Lester on the shoulder, and he moves as I take his place. "Steph tried to fight back, forcing herself forward from the balls of her feet," and I push up, and the way Tank's hands are locked over mine force him to move with me. "However, Steph isn't trained in mixed martial arts, so we need to forget our programmed instincts. She wouldn't consider the leverage Farro could gain when she pushes herself up," and a look of understanding crosses Tank's face. He loosens his grip on my hand so that I won't be injured, but he flips me over his back.
"Bobby, when do you think Farro was shot?" I ask, standing and returning to the original position.
"Do it again," he says, and Tank and I comply.
"Halfway through the roll, likely as her hand broke. The momentum would have drawn her fingers into her palm, and she reflexively pulled the trigger," Bobby says. "Farrow fell back this way," he points, "And Steph stopped here, next to where the gun was left at the crime scene. The autopsy showed his carotid artery was severed, and he bled out in around five minutes."
"Five minutes is a long time to watch someone die," Tank says.
I stand abruptly and walk back to my desk and rapidly scroll through the statements and photos again. The hair on the back of my neck is standing up, and I know that I'm close. What am I missing?
The answer is what's missing.
"Steph didn't attempt to save his life," I state, standing upright. "There's no blood on her other than the back splatter from the gunshot. Five minutes is a long time. Bobby, would he have been conscious?"
Bobby pauses before replying. "For at least a couple of minutes, probably," he says, his brows furrowed.
"Did Steph tell any of you something Farro said?" I say, and the atmosphere in the room grows heavy as no one replies. My mind is furiously putting the pieces together.
"Lester, Tank, where, exactly, was Steph when you walked into the apartment?" I ask, pointing to the photos. Lester points to the kitchen. "How was she positioned?" I press quickly.
"She was turned away from the door, looking at the refrigerator," Tanks says. "I remember because I could tell she wasn't being aware of her surroundings."
There's a couple of pictures of the crime scene where the fridge is incidentally included in the shot, and I flip through them before stopping and staring.
"Zoom in on the snapshots," Lester says quietly, and we see a grainy image of a woman and young girl. "Did Farro have a family?" he asks, and I pull up the original court report.
"Wife, estranged, and thirteen-year-old daughter," Tank reads.
"Farro said something to her, and whatever it was, Steph believes it," I say heavily, leaning against my desk. "That's what's missing from the report."
"And he used my nickname. That's why Steph won't let me call her Little Girl anymore," Tank says with an undercurrent of rage.
"Some of Stephanie's behavior post-Farro is consistent with rape victims," Bobby says, pacing the room as he thinks aloud. "But there was no penetration, although the situation was no less violent. I think at least some of what he said to her related to the attempted sexual assault. If he got in her head, Farro must have made it personal." Bobby abruptly stops. "Made it personal. Close quarters violence. Assault. No support," he mumbles, his eyes wide. "I'll be right back," Bobby says, and he runs from my office.
"Do our recreation again. I'm going to record it," I order, taking my phone out of my pocket while Tank and Lester assume their positions. "Go."
I watch them go through the movements seamlessly, and I feel my grip on my emotions slipping as I easily imagine the event with Stephanie and Farro. I end the video and slam my fist onto my desk. Lester sits on the floor with his head between his knees looking sick. Tank appears to be repressing the urge to put a hole in the wall.
I lean into my desk with stiff arms and arched back, taking the quiet moment to center myself. I look up as Bobby bursts back into the room with several books tabbed between his fingers. "One of the unintended consequences of Vietnam was the huge number of psychiatric casualties, which eventually lead to the discovery of PTSD," he starts hurriedly, and I wonder where he is going with this. "Studies found that the political and cultural environments of the 1960s and 70s created a perfect storm. In previous wars, soldiers returned home slowly and as a unit. Officer and NCO clubs on base as well as patriotic organizations, such as the American Legion and VFW thrived. Returning warriors were treated like heroes by their communities and country, and veterans were surrounded with support.
"In Vietnam, personnel were pulled in and out of warzones singularly and, with the advent of convenient air transport, rapidly. A soldier's time was up, and they were sent home to a country that often vilified their service. No support. As of today, more than three times as many Vietnam vets have died from suicide than enemy fire. Consequently, the US adopted what is now known as the Powell Doctrine, which states that we will not engage in a war without strong societal support.
"Ranger, you went on a mission for a year and debriefed with your unit for six weeks before returning home with plans for follow up meetings. Lester, Tank, you have each done the same thing. We have always had support, in the form of mentors, safe areas, awards and validation, cool down periods, acceptance and praise, and with our training. Even still, we all struggle with demons," Bobby reports, pausing to catch his breath.
"The Burg is Vietnam, and Stephanie is that abandoned solider," he states, and I sit down in my chair as the truth of his words slams down on me.
"I'm not going to speculate about Stephanie's mental health. Let's assume what she is doing is rational, at least from her point of view, and she's fairly healthy overall," Bobby continues, opening the first book in front of me, and Lester and Tank surround him. "This graph shows the physiological effects on a body during and after close quarters combat," he points before redirecting our attention to a chart on the next page. "This shows the effects of sustained close quarters combat. Stephanie always seemed so resilient, and with her unconventional approach to bounty hunting, I never mentally thought of her as a warrior. But think about the number of people who have died near her, indirectly because of her, and, this is important, directly because of her. Stephanie has experienced a great deal of violence, more than at least 90% of the members of the Armed Forces and public defenders.
"Humans are naturally resistant to killing other humans, and to overcome the body's instinct to preserve life comes at a physical toll. Because I never regarded Stephanie as a warrior, I interpreted her physical symptoms as typical stress, and because she went through it before, I assumed she would be fine. Look at the charts again. Stephanie, one hundred percent fits the profile of someone who not only experienced close quarters combat but also sustained combat. Add to that sexual assault," Bobby continues, opening a second book. My gut clenches.
"Look, here are common emotional effects of sexual assault. It includes changes in trusting others, anger and blame, shock, numbness, loss of control, disorientation, helplessness, a sense of vulnerability, fear, self-blame or guilt, and feeling that feeling all of that is a sign of weakness," Bobby lists. "Many of these traits are the same as after combat, and it's been proven that the physically closer a person is to the person they kill, the harder it is. In fact, close quarters combat is regarded as one of the most difficult things a person can go through," he says heavily. Bobby takes a small step back from the books and drops his arms at his sides, letting his shoulders droop.
"We've never treated Stephanie like everyone else," he continues with a tone of regret. "Not with the physical, field, professional development, or psychological training. I don't have a full medical history, and she doesn't do the required periodic counseling sessions that we do. I don't know how Steph has processed or dealt with the physical violence, and I have even less of an idea if she had any previous sexual trauma in her past that could have been triggered by the Farro incident. If one of our guys were to have an altercation similar to what Stephanie when through with Farro, we would pull them out of the field, debrief, require counseling, assign him an older mentor to keep a close eye on him, and more." Bobby loses steam and turns away. Tank and Lester appear guilt-stricken.
"I failed her," I state, and three pairs of eyes lock on me. "And you. It's true that Stephanie isn't a Rangeman employee, and she bears some of the responsibility for her decisions to turn away our offers of training. However, I never stressed the why of what we were offering, and we usually arrived just in time to prevent grave physical harm. While our interventions were necessary, they also created a false sense of security. One of my greatest fears is that I won't be able to get there in time to save her, and I never gave that fear its due. Further, after we would swoop in to help her, we would leave just as quickly. I never took the time to follow, or even explain, the procedures we have at Rangeman because, Bobby, you're right. I never considered Stephanie to be a warrior, but she is."
I stand and walk to the window, staring out at the Burg.
"Stephanie is a survivor, and that's what she is doing now. If you think about it, her efforts are impressive. In one day, she managed to disappear under Rangeman surveillance and has remained hidden. She improved her marksmanship and hand to hand skills. She's more careful with her physical security, at least until she isn't, but even that seems calculated. It's obvious that Steph is using sex and alcohol as the same psychological band-aid we do, and I'm not going to judge her for it, but I do want to help her," I say evenly before turning back and facing my team.
"I'm going to do everything I can to make things right with our warrior."
A/N: Whew! I feel like this story is a roller coaster, but I think it's important. I wrote Steph the way she is here on purpose. When I was young, it was once easy for me to think, they shouldn't have done drugs, abused alcohol, used sex as a band-aid, etc. and forget the person inside and what may have led them to that path. That viewpoint has softened for me the more life I've experienced. When I was a kid, my dad would say, "For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction, and an object in motion stays in motion, and things take the path of least resistance. The same thing is true with people."
I've had the pleasure of knowing many war vets, and while that demographic tends to be a very mixed bag of humanity, they are ultimately some of the very best people I've ever met. Unfortunately, some of them were in extreme circumstances, and their lives reflected that. I wish Steph's reaction was so out of character as to be unbelievable, but the sad truth is, this happens.
I have many ambitions for this story, and there are a purpose and goal to my characters and their actions. I hope everything makes sense at the end. I would really like to hear your feedback and reactions, good, bad, vent, emotional, group hug, and otherwise. Thank you for reading!
Misty23y is an incredible beta who, at the end of chapter 3 instantly replied without edits OMG! Spot on, Babe. She's an incredible person to work through a story with, and I enjoy our very long e-mail chains.