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.
Chapter 16
Ranger's POV
Steph falls asleep immediately, but I'm unable to do the same. The last twenty-four hours will take me days if not years to fully process. However, there is no place I would rather be than lying beside Stephanie right now, and the brave vulnerability with which she asked me was breathtaking. I wanted desperately to kiss her and wrap her in my arms, but I know she needs to be in control, even if it takes all of my self-control.
I see Steph's growing determination to accept what Hector and myself are telling her, but she doesn't believe us in her heart. I can't beat this nagging feeling that there's something else about Farro Stephanie hasn't mentioned, or perhaps it's just bothering me that she is still accepting responsibility for his death when, from my point of view, Farro killed Farro. Part of me wants to show her the video of the reenactment and have her collaborate it. While that could be successful in helping her change her perspective, it could also backfire and cause her precarious mental state to deteriorate further. Bobby is going to set Steph up with a counselor as soon as she is physically stronger, and unless I'm given a clear signal that showing her the video is the right things to do, I decide it will be prudent to wait until I consult with that person first.
In the meantime, I know I'll feel better if I leave no stone unturned, and I use my phone to send Rodriguez an email asking him to do our most thorough level of background checks on Farro, Tank, Morelli, and Vinnie. People seldom make only one deliberately bad decision. Additionally, while Farro is dead, perhaps the raw data of his background check will be another way to show Steph the type of man he was. I also want to know what else, if anything, the last three stooges have been involved in while I've been away.
I place my hand over the smaller one resting lightly on my leg and close my eyes. Stephanie has an alluring smell, and it almost reminds me of a tropical beach. I take a deep breath and relax into the moment. Coconut. Slightly salty musk. Temptation, sex, desire. I could lose all of my senses except smell, and I would be able to find my Babe anywhere. I thought I was being selfless before I left, pushing her back to Morelli, but really, I was a huge dip-shit, as Lester enjoys reminding me. I will never be anything less than honest with Stephanie or myself anymore. I know deep down, some, not all and not even most, but some of the reason she is in this physical and mental condition now is my fault.
I wake with a jerk several hours later. Stephanie is shivering beside me, turning her head back and forth across the pillow as she mumbles unintelligible words under her breath. "Shhh, Babe, you're okay," I whisper quietly. I slowly raise my hand to sweep the long piece of hair she kept away from her lips. She freezes when my fingers make contact with her skin, and I quietly repeat the same attempt at soothing words. Steph unconsciously nuzzles her chin into my hand, and her body relaxes back into deeper sleep.
I pull the blanket up more tightly around her before turning my head to see if Alex is nearby. She catches my eye and rises from Bobby's desk to my side. "Yes, Stephanie's fever is returning," Alex says in a quiet tone. "Otherwise her vitals are steady. Like I said before, fevers aren't always a bad thing. They are a body's natural defense mechanism. I contacted Bobby, however, and he agrees with me that unless anything else changes, we can continue the current treatment plan."
Her words feel like a kick in the stomach, and my blank face slams down automatically. "Bobby told me about your company-wide meeting tomorrow at 0800. I'm going to let him relieve me at 0600 as planned so I can take an hour to freshen up, but otherwise, I'll be back down before then so he can be present. Stephanie seems to respond well to Hector, and I think it would be a good idea for him to sit with me. The calmer we can keep her, the better."
"Sounds good," I respond. Alex walks back to her post, and I anxiously drift into a restless sleep.
Like clockwork, I naturally awaken at 0500. I watch Stephanie as she sleeps for a long minute. She's pale, but there's a hint of pink in her cheeks, and her brow is covered in a slight sheen. I glance over at Alex, and she quickly joins me. "Looking good. Other than the fever, I would venture to say she is improving," she says, flashing a reassuring smile.
The vice that's taken over my insides unwinds slightly, but I won't feel better until Stephanie is out of this room and has moved out of that contaminated apartment permanently. Alex sits back in her chair again, and I take out my phone and begin going through my inbox.
The other Rangeman heads have each sent notes acknowledging the change of command and Tank's removal from the company. The speed with which news travels through the Burg is nothing short of astounding, and several clients have also written me directly. Each letter reflects the same theme; they thank me for my service, are encouraged to hear about the leadership change, and want an opportunity to sit down and talk about their service plan with Rangeman. It's a reminder that there is still a lot of hard work to be done to repair Tank's damage.
I reread the settlement proposal I will be presenting this morning as well as my talking points, making a couple of last-minute adjustments. I don't want to admit it to anyone, even myself, but I'm nervous. What I say this morning could make or break Rangeman, and I acutely feel the burden. It's a quarter to six when I finish, and I pocket my phone before slowly sliding out of bed. It's one thing for Alex to see me lying beside Steph, but I know Steph wouldn't want to show that level of physical closeness to any of the men. I'm going to talk to Bobby about making his shift twelve hours so that Alex can be on watch again tonight.
When I exit the restroom, Stephanie is awake, watching Alex and Bobby discussing turnover through the doorway. Her eyes shift from them to me as I walk back, joined by my medical team. "Good morning, Bomber. How did you sleep?" Bobby asks in a kind tone.
"Fine," Steph answers simply, and I'm surprised at how impassive her face is, and it makes me wonder what she is thinking. I used to be able to read her so well, but this last cursed year has made it harder for me to decipher her non-verbal cues. It's frustrating on many levels. Alex begins a round of vitals checks, stating numbers as she goes. Steph's temperature is 100.2F.
"Looks like your fever is thinking about breaking. Your job is to keep resting," Alex says with a slight smile. Bobby leans Steph forward with Alex's help and listens to her breathing and coughing before removing the bandages and inspecting Steph's knee.
"Well Bomber, I doubt you are feeling a lot better, but I'm pleased with your exam. I'll step out and gather breakfast while you take care of any personal business," Bobby says before striding away, closing his office door.
"Let's do this," Steph declares. Alex smiles as she disconnects the lines, and I easily scoop up Steph's slender frame and carry her to the restroom. She presses her fingers lightly into my side, and the touch sends a shiver through me. I set her carefully onto her feet with Alex close by before waiting on the other side of the door. Stephanie needs a good day, and I hope today is that day. I hear the tone but not the words of Alex's cheerful banter through the door. I fix my gaze on Bobby's closed office door as I wait.
Bobby is an expert in internal and emergency medicine, having been a field surgeon before coming to Rangeman. I think he cared for and lost one too many amputees, blast victims, and civilian casualties while we were stationed overseas, and Rangeman was his escape from that life. He didn't want to resume working in a hospital environment and embraced managing the medical and occupational health portions of Rangeman with quiet but intense energy. I frown as I continue to stare. I may have judged Bobby too harshly. It could be that his somewhat reserved professional demeanor is his way of dealing, or in some ways, not dealing with his trauma from death. Since Bobby monitors the mental health care plans of all Rangeman employees, it never occurred to me to follow-up with him about his mental health. Caregivers need care as well, and it's my job to ensure that happens.
I can see that Bobby is genuinely trying to care for Steph, and I've been impressed with the concerted effort I've seen him make to reach her. However, from time to time he seems out of his depth identifying and responding to Steph's emotional needs, and I can see how he missed some of the symptoms of her deteriorating mental health at the Farro scene. If he was the only caregiver for the present situation, I'm certain Steph would be in the hospital right now, and that would make things much worse for her. The only person who might hate hospitals as much as Steph might be me, but I don't even share the same level of dislike. One of the best things Bobby has done since my return is call in Alex as a back-up, and I'm already hoping I can convince her to join the Rangeman family full-time.
Alex opens the door and pokes her head out. "Ready!" she calls, her hair bouncing behind her as she moves back to Stephanie.
Stephanie looks tired despite the full night's sleep, but she seems more refreshed than before. "Babe?" I question, and she nods her head yes before I carry her back to the bed. She grips my shirt tightly, and I fight every urge in my body to kiss her head. Alex raises the light level partially while I lay Steph back in bed and adjust the pillows and blankets around her. Bobby steps back in and reattaches the lines while Alex gathers her things.
"I'll be back in an hour or so to check on you," Alex says to Stephanie. She opens the door but returns a few seconds later, assisting Ella with a cart. "Bon Appetit!" Alex declares before making a second departure.
"Good morning, Ella," Stephanie says with a slight smile. "Thank you for the pajamas. They are very comfy, and this meal smells great."
Ella looks pleased. "Of course, dear. Eat up and rest, and I'll get you anything else you need. You're home now," she says, patting Stephanie's shoulder and taking her leave. I see another look I don't recognize flash in Steph's eyes before she puts her blank face in place.
There are three bowls of steel-cut oatmeal topped with blueberries, walnuts, cinnamon, and a speck of brown sugar. I know the sugar is for Steph's benefit. There's yogurt, fresh fruit, coffee, apple juice, and water in carafes on the side. Steph silently reaches for a bowl and begins to eat.
"What would you like to drink, Babe?" I ask.
"Water," she says between bites. Bobby joins us.
"I'm afraid it's kind of boring in here, Steph. Could I get Hector to bring you a computer? Did you want to check your phone? I recharged it in my office overnight." Bobby says, setting down his finished bowl and picking up his coffee cup.
"Yes, to both, thank you," Steph says evenly, and while I wouldn't be able to tell how I know, I can feel she is still somewhat reserved around Bobby and Lester. The colloquialism sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me is complete bullshit.
Bobby stands and brings the phone to her, setting it on the mattress. "Thanks," Steph says quietly, leaning to place her half-eaten bowl on the cart. I intercept it halfway and offer a topped off water to her. She takes a sip, I think more to patronize me than anything else, before passing it back and resting her head against her pillow. At seven, Lester, Hector, and Jose join us.
"Hola," Hector greets Stephanie.
"Hola," Stephanie says in return, and I love the way Spanish sounds rolling off of her tongue.
"I'm headed to work," Jose says, stepping forward. "I'm glad I got to meet you again, and I'm hoping for your speedy recovery."
"Me too," Steph responds with a slight smile. Hector meets her eye before leaving to escort Jose out of Rangeman.
"Alright, Beautiful. I need to let you know, I've got a great feeling about today. Now before you say it, I know you're the one with the Spidey sense, not me, but I think you can trust me. After all, my horoscope said since the full moon is going to align with Neptune, that will enhance my ability to maximize myself," Lester declares cheekily before taking a bite of an apple while looking completely self-assured.
"Horoscope?" I say, my eyebrow raised, and Steph lets out a small giggle.
"What's mine?" Steph asks, a smile growing. This conversation is ridiculous, but like when I walked in on them yesterday, these two laughing together is a sign to me that things are getting better.
"Libra, right?" Lester asks as Steph nods in reply. I have no idea if Lester follows astrology or if he looked it up before coming in here now for Steph's benefit. "Yours said you might have something hard to work on, but don't wiggle out of it. Instead, resolve to match the challenge to the best of your ability. It might not be fun, but you will win useful new friends, improve old friendships, and improve your life."
I catch the glint of the tears Steph tries to hide. "Thanks, Lester," she says eventually. I see her shoulders sag in relief that attention is deflected from her as there is a knock on the door. Lester welcomes back Hector and Alex. Alex begins a quiet conversation with Bobby while Hector sits in the chair beside Steph and places a tablet on the bed beside her.
"We are headed upstairs to a company-wide assembly, Babe. I'll be back after, and you can always use your phone to contact me. Hector and Alex will be here with you. See you soon," I state, and Steph presses her lips together. She looks so small and uncertain in the bed. I walk to the opposite side and place my hand over hers. She tilts her face towards mine, and I'm nearly swallowed up in her big, blue eyes. "Rest, Babe. It's going to be okay. I love you," I say in a volume only meant for her ears. She squeezes my hand in response, and it's as though she gave my heart a squeeze.
I leave before I can talk myself out of it, Lester behind me, and head up to seven to freshen up and change. Fucking Tank again, drawing me away from the place I should be to take care of something I shouldn't have to be taking care of. I know a shoulda coulda woulda attitude isn't going to help anything, and I use the anger and frustration to propel me forward.
Lester takes a seat in the living room of my apartment while I head back to shower, shave, and deliberate over what to wear. I settle on the Rangeman working uniform of black utility pants, a black t-shirt with the Rangeman logo and boots. I want to send a message that I am not above the men but rather in the trenches with everyone.
When I step out fifteen minutes later, Bobby has joined Lester. "Duty just called up to say Pete arrived. He's being escorted to your office now," Lester reports, his game face on. I nod once in response, pick up my keys from the silver dish, and take the stairs two at a time.
I meet Pete on five and shake his hand before escorting him into my office. He begins without preamble.
"Tank attempted to divert his savings into an offshore account last night. Fortunately, your instincts were correct, and I had already made arrangements with the IRS to flag his financial transactions. The funds have been seized and placed into a holding account until the conclusion of the investigation against him, and dispersals have been made," Pete begins seriously. "From what I was able to determine, Tank's remaining financial holdings are a few thousand dollars. It's unlikely that, unless he gets a job in the next month, he will be able to pay his mortgage or car payments in the next two months. He's already going to be pissed off, and this could push him into being desperate."
"Roger," I replied somberly. "We'll re-examine our security practices and make adjustments accordingly," I comment, looking pointedly at Lester who gives a small nod of acknowledgment. "Any last comments on the settlement?"
"No, everything is in order. I brought two of my associates with to help, and they are currently setting up shop in the main conference room. I'll also be available for any private conversations with a Rangeman employee," Pete responds. I nod my acknowledgment.
"What have you worked out with the Department of Labor?" I follow up.
"That's still ongoing, but what we achieve here today will go a long way towards wrapping that issue up. There's no doubt Rangeman is in violation of the Fair Labor Standards Act, under the category of wage theft. This is for all the incidents where employees were coerced into working outside of their contracted working hours. There are forty-one Rangeman employees affected, and right now my rough calculation is approximately eight million dollars in fines and back pay.
"Now, the settlement today will prevent affected employees and will deter the Department of Labor from filing a suit for liquidated damages. Since your compensation is more generous than what an employee would expect to receive if they did file a lawsuit, and since you are bringing the violations to the Department of Labor and not the other way around, you have every reason to believe this will create a swift end to your labor problems, legally speaking. The settlement includes a non-disclosure agreement, which will help prevent further damage to Rangeman's reputation. Separately, ADA, or American Disabilities Act, violations go through the Department of Justice. I'd expect OSHA to pay a visit as well. The fines I've been able to calculate are an average of sixty-five thousand dollars per incident, and that totals around 3.5 million dollars.
"Some of this is simply going to move at the pace of the government. However, when everything is all done, I expect all settlements, back pay, fines, reparations to Ms. Plum, and legal fees to come in just under twenty million dollars, which roughly equals the funds diverted to the holding account," Pete finishes summarizing.
"Wait, you calculated Tank's salary and bonuses this past year at five million dollars?" I ask with a frown.
Pete nods yes as he begins replying. "My forensics accounting team discovered that the funds that used to be budgeted to housing, living, and entertainment for Rangeman Trenton had been significantly cut, and the difference was put into an administrative account that Tank drew from like a credit card. Those were the monies Tank was trying to send to an overseas account. I have an enterprising associate who contacted the IRS to get a copy of the taxes he filed this past year. Turns out, Tank didn't report those additional funds as income. I expect the IRS will soon be contacting him for an audit. Tax fraud is a felony, and he will likely be tried and sent to jail for five years and fined at least two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. We may also be able to make a case of embezzlement.
"Additionally, I doubled checked, and when Tank admitted to and I subsequently formally documented the fifty-six incidents of inciting harm against Ms. Plum, he confessed to conspiracy. Each event is a separate count or even multiple counts, for example, conspiracy to commit murder, conspiracy to kidnap, conspiracy to commit assault and battery, etc. If Ms. Plum decides to pursue a case and press charges, it's likely Tank, and since he worked with Mr. Vincent Plum in committing the crime of conspiracy, Tank and Mr. Plum would be tried and, if convicted, sent to jail for thirty years to life. Since the document he signed includes a financial settlement, I doubt there would be additional fines, but Mr. Plum could be ordered to pay a financial sum to Ms. Plum by a judge. My forensics accounting team is working on proving the money trail from Tank to Mr. Plum to collaborate with each admitted incident."
"Damn," Lester says under his breath, looking dazed. Bobby sits down heavily.
I look out the window a long minute as I process the criminal and financial cost of Tank's actions. I think about my friendship with Tank, and I don't know when the lust for power and money took over his character to the point that he would be willing to commit to doing so much harm. There's a part of me that wonders if I could have done something differently to prevent all of this.
"Good work, Pete," I say, turning back towards him, my blank face in place. "Bobby, ensure the company is assembled in the gym, and we will proceed with the formalities." I watch as Bobby departs. The gym is the only space in the building large enough to house everyone at once. Bobby returns two minutes later, and at precisely 0800, I stand in front of my assembled company, flanked by Lester, Bobby, and Pete.
"Attention to Colors!" Lester commands, and every person faces the American flag that permanently hangs at the back of the gym. Former and reserve service members stand in rigid attention, and everyone places their hands over the hearts at the first note of the Star-Spangled Banner. This minute and a half are among my most sacred. Honoring the flag is a tradition that reminds me of those brothers and sisters who gave their all, of the sacrifice freedom requires, and the man I want to spend my life being to honor those sacrifices. Today, I'm reminded that not all casualties are physical and that the mental warfare resulting from combat often destroys more lives than the enemy's bullets ever can.
We automatically resume an "at ease" posture when the last note plays over the sound system, and I take a cleansing breath as I turn to face the people that I hope will entrust me to lead them once more.
Bobby steps forward. "Under the Rangeman governing by-laws, we are assembled together to witness the change of command for both corporate Rangeman and Rangeman Trenton, effective immediately. Lester Santos, do you relinquish command of Rangeman?" Bobby states authoritatively.
Lester steps forward and faces the company with his shoulders back, and hands curled at his sides. "I relinquish command," he booms clearly.
"Ranger Manoso, do you resume command of Rangeman?" Bobby questions with the same authority.
I step forward and scan the audience assembled before me. "I assume command," I bark with unwavering resolve. This formal exchange of words is one of the military's oldest traditions, and while we have modified the ceremony for civilian purposes, it has worked to successfully guide the company whenever I departed and returned for a mission. I knew we would fail if there were any question of who reported to whom. I hope the next time I relinquish command, it is for my retirement.
I'm about to begin my remarks when applause begins to rise from the men assembled in front of me followed by a general cheering and seeming exhalation of relief. This has never happened before, and I'm momentarily stunned by the show of support. The men quiet of their own accord, and I give them a small smile.
"To each of you, I extend my sincerest measures of gratitude and apology. I will not hide behind the wrongdoings of or protect Tank at your expense. Effective immediately, all Rangeman instructions and policies revert to editions approved before June 1st, 2018. This includes all housing, food, storage, use, and display of personal effects, physical training, physical fitness standards, uniform standards, and workplace practices, among others," I begin, pausing as another round of applause erupts.
"This building was once more than your place of employ. It was home to many of you, and a place of comradery and rest. I want it to be that way again. More than that, however, I know each of you has legitimate personal and legal grievances against Rangeman, and I'm unable to tell you how humbled I am that you waited until my return to consider taking any legal action against this company. I have spent the past four days using every resource at my disposal to unearth any wrongdoings. Mr. Pete Thompson, the Rangeman attorney, has worked closely with me throughout this process," I continue, careful to inject contrition into my commanding tone.
"I'm not going to cover up or shy away from the wrongs committed against you. Instead, I seek to begin to make things right with a settlement. As of right now, no outside entities are investigating the various violations that have occurred over the past year. I am not doing this because I have to. I am coming forward preemptively to pay any fines not only because it is the honorable things to do, but because I need to regain your trust in this company again. I seek to send a clear message that I do not condone those actions.
"I am offering each of you one hundred and fifty thousand dollars as reparations. I am not attempting to buy your loyalty, but I do hope that the sum along with an immediate change in corporate atmosphere will convince you to give Rangeman another chance to earn your trust as a superior security employer. If it isn't, please feel free to accept the settlement, and I will personally write a letter of recommendation as you seek employment elsewhere.
"Mr. Thompson and his associates are prepared to receive each of you in Conference Room One. Read the settlement and carefully consider your options. He and his team are also prepared to document any specific grievances you may have and answer all of your questions," I explain, pausing to let my words sink in.
"General Patton once said, 'Success is how high you bounce when you hit bottom.'" I say emphatically. "I believe that Rangeman is only as good as the people who form it, and from the beginning, I wanted this to be a place that was the industry leader in security services because we were made of the very best people. You are those people. This is the bottom. I hope you choose to stay and bounce back with me," I say with as much sincerity as I can. "Either way, thank you for your service to this company and to me." I let out a short breath before glancing at Pete. He steps forward and begins explaining the process as I depart with Bobby, leaving my fate in their hands.
A/N: To my Christian/Catholic readers, Happy Easter! I'm posting this chapter early as I expect the weekend's festivities to consume my time. I've written through chapter 18 and refined my outline to completion. I'm expecting this journey to end two to three chapters plus an epilogue. Can you believe we are so close to the end? Me neither! Thank you to everyone for your amazing words of reflection and encouragement. I was so busy I had to take a three week break from serious writing, and those comments kept me in the writing frame of mind regardless. Your words are valued. As an Easter treat for you and me, let's top 500 reviews for another early chapter. 😊
Misty23y is my beta. Thank you for everything you've done, from brainstorming to grammar, to help me through this writing process and be so encouraging along the way. Melyons kindly corrected my uneducated medical knowledge, and I'm grateful she made this story stronger.