Rangeday

Chapter 13

She woke with a headache the size of Greenland. She'd been forced to sleep on her back, the huge lump of her right arm weighing her down. Not comfortable at all. And she had a vague memory of Ranger wrapping a towel around her. When she was naked.

Meep!

She dug back trough the fuzz, but nothing much wanted to resurface. She'd been pretty out of it from the painkillers. And bloody. And he'd put her into the bath and helped her as chastely as if she was his daughter. Ack, not a good thought. Did she really have that little effect on him or… no, let's not think about this any further. She was grateful that he hadn't dropped her off and drove away, or she'd still be sitting on her couch with matted blood in her hair, no doubt feeling much, much worse.

And glance at the alarm clock revealed it was nearing 11 AM. She had a flash of too-late! panic and then remembered he'd said to stay at home today. Work from home, even. But what could she do from home? RangeDay needed some practical things arranged, but she really needed Ella for that. She could do some things by email, but the risk of sending it to the wrong person…

Actually…

She stumbled to her feet, swallowed down a painkiller and brought her laptop to the bed. While it booted up she got herself hot chocolate and a poptart.

"What do you mean, hot chocolate is for later in the day?" she said to Rex, dropping a grape and a small corner of poptart into his dish. "I can have it now if I want to."

Her fridge was mostly empty, so she'd have to call someone about grocery shopping. Her parents, maybe. Then again she didn't quite feel up to the veritable flood of fussing that would bring with it. They'd be sure to complain that she was doing fieldwork again. They just couldn't understand that her nice, well-paid, safe deskjob bored the shit out of her. Even with the new responsibilities and challenges Ranger had moved her way, she still felt cooped up. Now if she could do half deskjob and half fieldwork… that would be something else.

She brought her things to the bedroom and put them on the side table. Getting around with only one arm was a real bother. When she'd finally settled herself in, she pulled the laptop closer and opened The Art of War. Now the activities were mostly final, she could take some time to throw people off the trail. She had no illusions that things were really as quiet as it seemed to her; you couldn't sneak around covert-ops trained men and believe they weren't sneaking right back at you.

One thing she hadn't counted on when involving Tsuy in her plans, was that Tank was now getting closer to Tsuy. And she didn't figure him for the kind of person who'd fish for information with a date, but it wasn't impossible that he'd find something to put him on the right track.

She'd been subjected to some really obvious attempts to get information from her, and she remembered from yesterday that her ruse last Tuesday had definitely attracted attention, but what else were they doing?

They definitely didn't believe the Build a Bear thing. If nobody had connected it to the birthdays of her nieces she would be surprised, but most of all they had to know she'd never set up RangeDay to be something that wouldn't be enjoyed. What would be the point of that?

That she wasn't really aware of what they were doing just meant that they were very, very good at it. Luckily Sun Tzu had some 2400 year old wisdom just for this situation.

She could use their expectations about her to her advantage. What did they believe about her? That she was clumsy. Okay, that was actually true. That she couldn't resist talking about Rangeday with someone. In that aspect they'd gone to the same Women 101 class as Joe – they 'knew' that she couldn't keep secrets. She'd have to call around a bit to find out of they'd been interrogating her friends. Maybe she could drop some strategic misinformation.

Another thing they assumed about her was that she lacked the strategic knack to truly pull this off. True, she hadn't had Army Ranger classes and she didn't play Risk a lot, but she hadn't given up on herself just yet. Taking a sip of hot chocolate, she started writing. Forty minutes later she sent out some emails.

From:bombshell at rangeman
To:ramvernon at rangeman
Subject:[confidential]

Dear Ella,

I need to arrange a few things more with you about RD. I'll look you up when I can get back to the office, but for now I just need to know this so I can get back to the company. Do any of the guys have their own abseil gear? The hall needs to order some more heavy-duty harnesses if we don't bring any of our own, so I need to know this ASAP.

Thanks,

Steph

From:bombshell at rangeman
To:rangermanoso at rangeman
Subject:[confidential]

Hi Ella,

Just a quick RD-related question before I start making (one-handed! :-( ) phonecalls – do you know if any of the guys have wetsuits? The company that rents us the windsurfing gear can arrange those for us too, but then I'll need to know sizes. It might take them some time to come by that many mega-size wetsuits!

See you when I get back to the office,

Steph

From:bombshell at rangeman
To:tankfoster at rangeman
Subject:[confidential]

Hello Ella,

There's not much I can do from here but I'm doing some phone calls. The file I got about RD said that you have a list of what is in storage, and I wondered if you could tell me if everybody has their own tent or if we need to rent them.

I for one will need one – I'm all for being at one with nature and so on, but not for sharing my sleeping bag with sticks and leaves and crawly things!

Can I assume everybody has sleeping bags, mats. etc?

Thanks in advance,

Steph

Then not a minute later she sent another to each address, separately so they could not see they were not the only one to receive it.

AAAARRRGH!

You did not see that email. Please tell me that you just got this one and have no idea what I'm talking about. If you do, don't. My brain is full of fuzz and I'm a world-class dope.

I'm just going to go and bash my head against a wall

She hoped it sounded suitably ditzy and that they could believe she'd addressed the email wrong in a flash of fuzzy-brainedness… and was now beating herself over the head about it.

She wondered about the implications of sending these emails. One major advantage on her side was that the guys were playing each to their own, and were unlikely to share information with each other. They were more likely to send each other on a wild goose chase than tell anyone about these emails.

The emails contained hints, in case of the one for Ranger, quite close in the right direction. She figured that since he hadn't spoken of it to her at all, he was doing his investigation in secret, and she suspected he was a lot closer to the truth than she'd like. Ranger was the master of Sneak. She wouldn't be surprised if he knew quite a lot about Rangeday.

If she gave him a morsel that confirmed what he already knew or suspected, that might bring him close, but might also stop him from digging further.

There was a good chance he'd call her as soon as he got the email. Even more so that he'd gloat. She'd have to act suitably crestfallen, and fend of any questions. She could always act sulky and say that he already knew more than enough. She'd have to resist the urge to make his smugness disappear. He could be smug now. She could be smug on the day itself.

The phone rang. She took a deep breath, dropped herself deep into the I've-just-ruined-everything mindset, and answered.

"Yeah?"

"Babe." He'd used that same tone when her cars blew up. Amusement laced with affection.

She groaned.

"Don't say anything. This is not happening."

"Babe."

"What can I say, I'm stoned! These fucking painkillers…"

He chuckled a bit.

"How is your arm?"

"Feels like it weighs about a ton."

"Put it on a pillow at night. You need to keep the hand high."

"I will, I will." She let out a deep, deep sigh. He was silent. She couldn't tell if he was amused or disappointed by finding out about Rangeday.

"You won't tell anyone, right?" she said in a small voice.

"Babe." Of course not, his tone said. Not that she believed he'd keep quiet out of the goodness of his heart – he was in on the betting like everyone else.

"I have a wetsuit, and a few others have as well. I have that sort of thing on a list somewhere, so I'll check for you."

"That would be really nice of you."

"I'm a nice guy." She could hear the grin in his voice. "Do you need any other help?"

Aww, he was so nice about it that she almost felt a sliver of guilt about misleading him. Almost. And it was only a tiny sliver.

"It's mostly arranged. I just need to fix some details."

"Okay. Have you eaten?"

"Poptart," she supplied.

He let a repulsed silence draw out.

"I'm sending Ella grocery shopping for you. Someone will drop it off this afternoon."

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to." There was no refusing that. Besides, her fridge was kind of empty.

"Okay. Thanks."

"Get some rest," he instructed.

"'kay."

"And don't eat too much crap."

She made a non-committal mm-hmm sound.

"And better not write any more emails until you're off the pills."

"Yeah."

"Oh, and Babe?"

"Yeah?"

"If the guys give you anything, better take a good look at it. They're up to something."

"I will. Tha—" and she heard the dial tone.

Boy, this was better than she could have hoped for. Not only did he seem to think he knew everything now, he warned her about the others. She wouldn't even be surprised if he entertained himself by putting them on the wrong track. He'd be helping her without even knowing it. Of course, he thought he was helping himself win the bet, but with a bit of luck it'd work to her advantage.

Tired by all this scheming, she snoozed for a while. The painkillers might not make her stoned like she'd pretended, but they did make her sleepy.

When she woke up she called Alex the dietician. They chatted for a short while, and she passed on a message to his sister. When she'd first met him his sister had been in his office, all wide floral skirts and quartz bead necklaces. Aurora was a qualified Ayurvedic massage therapist who also gave a range of courses. Some of them with inspiring titles like 'Discover your connection with the Earth Goddess' and 'Breathe with your roots in the Earth' and 'Ayurvedic Expressive Dance' and so on. Stephanie had liked her, though the courses sounded altogether too far-fetched for her own tastes.

Alex would ask Aurora to call Stephanie's extension at the Rangeman office later that day. Since she wasn't there, the call would pass to the central switchboard, where whoever was in the control room at that moment would get it.

She grinned at the thought that they'd probably be perfectly polite, ask her to repeat the company name ('Holistic Re-Birthing Centre') and whimper in horror as soon as the phone was put down. Or maybe they'd Google it first and then whimper.

Stephanie smiled in satisfaction. Sun Tzu knew what he was talking about.

Feeling that she had an excuse, she closed her laptop and settled down on her side, arranging a pillow in front of her to rest her arm on. It didn't take long at all before she sank away.

"Jesus, look at this."

"Stay the fuck out of that man. There are limits."

"Get your panties out of a twist, she's not gonna wake up."

"Doesn't matter man."

A few seconds passed. Stephanie dragged herself from her stupor. Was she hallucinating or were there two men in her bedroom?

"Cal," the second voice said in a threatening tone. She finally recognised him as Lester.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. In a minute," Cal said. His voice came from behind her, in the direction of her closet.

"If you don't get your grubby paws out of my underwear drawer this very moment," she said groggily, opening her eyes, "You will be in major, major trouble."

"Fuck!" he said under his breath, and she heard him move.

"Hey Bombshell, sorry for waking you," Lester said. "We just came to bring you some food and stuff."

Yeah, right.

"Thanks, that's very nice of you," she yawned. "Did you plan to wake me when you were finished with your tour of the place?"

Lester looked a little crestfallen.

"I planned to let you sleep, actually. And I apologise for Cal here," he nodded at the other man, who was doing his best to sheepish, "he's got no sense of privacy."

It's hard to look sheepish when you have a flaming skull tattoo on your forehead. Cal wasn't doing a very good job of it.

"Sorry 'bout your arm," he finally said. She nodded in acknowledgement. She chose to believe that he was also sorry about going through her underwear. Not to mention the rest of the house. Life was easier if she didn't expect the impossible.

"We brought you a gift," Lester announced, stepping out of the room and returning with a stuffed animal in his hands. It was a brown bear. In doctor's clothes. It was deadly cute.

"Thought he could look after you. I'll put him down here, 'kay?" he put the bear on top of the dresser next to the door.

"Thanks Lester, that's really nice of you guys," she smiled. "Am I being unrealistically hopeful if I ask if there are any donuts with the food you brought?"

"The boss got Ella to shop for you," he said. That meant it was probably all healthy, though Ella had been known to bake cookies. "Then Tank said to get you some donuts as well, so we picked up a few on our way here."

"Bless you. And him."

Lester beamed.

"We'll be off, then. Be good, and that cast will be off in no time."

"Thanks for dropping by. Say thanks to Tank for me?"

"Sure."

When they were gone she sat watching the bear for a while. It was cute, obviously selected with some care. She loved it. She also didn't trust it.

Maybe without Ranger's warning she would have been happy with a thoughtful gift from the guys. Then again maybe not. Maybe she'd have been suspicious either way.

In any case it was probably bugged. The question was, would it be the only bug or would they have placed another one somewhere? She hoped they wouldn't sink that low, but there was really no guarantee. Maybe she could speak to Ranger about the possibility. For now she could make use of the near-certainty that someone in the office was listening in.

She used her mobile to call her landline and answered it on the second ring.

"Hey girl! … Yeah, it sucks … You have no idea..... of course not!..... Lula! ……………… Can you get your mind out of the gutter for a moment?…. well, try…………… no…. yeah, I know… what was her name again?… Aurora… okay………for THE day… no, I'm not telling you… what do you mean why not? You're sleeping with the enemy, girl! …………uh-huh………… no, of course I know…… hell yes, only I don't think I'll be up for it for a few days… can't carry bags, you know… how about Saturday?...... Cool…… see you then…… bye!"

She disconnected her fake conversation and smiled to herself. The idea that Lula might know something would direct attention away from Tsuy, hopefully – and Lula would be sure to enjoy the sudden interest from the merry men. Stephanie was pretty sure Lula and Hal were an item, but as her friend put it, 'still got eyes!'

She examined the bear while eating a donut. Yup, it was definitely bugged. She could feel the transmitter inside its head. She would be annoyed about it if it wasn't such a funny idea that one of the guys would have gone to Build A Bear to make this thing.

Letting them know that she knew about it would be a waste of opportunity, but she refused to leave it in her apartment. She could try foisting it off onto someone, but then the guys would be listening in on that person. She refused to intrude on someone's privacy like that. Just because others did it to her didn't mean she had to do it to someone else.

Getting an idea, she found an old shoe-box in her closet and put the bear inside. Taping it shut was a struggle with one hand, but she managed. Then she took a waterproof marker and wrote the address of Rangeman Boston on the lid. She put the box in the bathroom, shut the door, and walked to her kitchen to call Dillon.

He turned up ten minutes later.

"Steph! Didn't know you broke your arm. Are you doing okay?"

She told him what happened and they caught up for a few minutes. Finally she came to the point.

"I have this package that needs to be in the mail. Could you post it for me please?"

"Sure. I'll drop it off this afternoon."

"Oh, it's not in a hurry. In fact, send it with the slowest option they have."

Okay, so the bear was gone. That didn't mean she wasn't listened to anymore though. The idea that they'd been through her things made her feel very uncomfortable. It took things out of the fun Rangeday challenge and well into the ballpark of privacy invasion.

"Yo."

"Yo yourself," she smiled.

"Got the groceries?"

"Yeah, Ella is the best." There'd been chocolate chip cookies. Home made.

"She insisted that being pampered is an essential part of recovery."

Marry me now, Ella.

"So… err…" how to breach this subject. He waited in silence. "I woke up to find the guys going through my apartment."

Nothing.

"As in, searching my apartment."

"I'll speak with them. Did they give you anything?"

That wasn't quite what she'd expected. She'd expected him to be pissed off on her behalf.

"A bugged bear. I got rid of it, but how do I know they didn't put more bugs around the house?"

He was silent a moment.

"I'm going to assume everybody is well aware that that would be crossing a line."

He sounded a lot more serious about this. 'I'm going to assume' sounded more like 'everybody had better be'.

"People cross lines. Especially when there's money at stake."

"Point." He was silent a moment. "I can't guarantee you there isn't one, but I'll find out, and deal with it."

"Thanks. I hate it that my own home feels like it has a revolving door for anybody and everybody. I never know who's going to stand by my bed when I wake up."

"Babe."

There was something about his tone that caught her attention. In fact, the entire conversation gave her a feeling of vague apprehension. She liked to think she knew him tolerably well – maybe as well as he allowed her to know him. And it definitely seemed as if he acted out of character about the fact that the men had searched her apartment. She'd expected him to get angry about it. He'd hardly blinked. And he thought hiding transmitters in her home was crossing a line, but not searching it?

Wait a minute…

"You've done it yourself, haven't you?"

"Babe?"

"You've gone through my apartment."

The silence stretched. He didn't deny. She hadn't expected to ever hear him confess something like this, but this was as good as.

"Babe."

That tone confirmed it, and she didn't know what to say, what to feel. When had he done it? Was it a one-time thing or a regular occurrence? Was that how he always seemed to know about what went on in her life? What had he been looking for? What on earth would she say to him now?

"I'll speak to you later, okay?" and she disconnected.

Half an hour later she still didn't know what to feel. Disappointment? Anger? Irritation? Betrayal? She was at a loss. Mostly it annoyed her that his privacy was holy and that she couldn't even ask questions freely, but that he seemed to consider it okay for him to search her home instead of even asking questions.

In any case, there was something she should have done a while ago.

"Hey Joe," she said when he answered his phone. "How are you?"

"Cupcake," he grinned. "I'm okay. How's your arm?"

She wasn't surprised that he knew.

"The cast is awkward as hell, but the pain is fading. I'm feeling okay."

"That's good to hear. Nice bust, last night."

To her surprise he sounded like he meant it. Maybe her choice of job was easier to take now she definitely wasn't going to be his wife. It felt good to talk to him as a friend.

"Thanks. Did she give you guys a lot of trouble?"

"We put her in an isolation cell until she finally stopped screeching."

She chuckled. "Served her right. Hey, don't you have a home security specialist in the bureau?"

"Sure, John. Do you need him?"

"I was wondering if he could recommend me a good locksmith."

"Hang on, I'll ask."

A moment later he came back on with the address of a downtown locksmith.

"These guys have a specialist that comes to check the place out and can recommend and install the whole deal. It's not cheap, but it'll help with your uninvited visitor problem."

"Thanks, Joe. Give Bob a hug for me."

She called the locksmith and they offered to send someone over in an hour. That left about enough time for a quick pick-up session so she wouldn't be too embarrassed to have a total stranger in her apartment.

"I'm surprised," the locksmith said after inspecting the doors. She was in her late forties, greying hair tied back. "These are pretty decent locks. Didn't you say you get a lot of unwanted visitors?"

"Yeah. It seems like everybody knows how to pick my locks, except me."

"Okay, I can see that slapping on some more locks will not do much than slow 'em a bit, so I'm gonna get some low-tech doohickeys from the car, 'kay?"

She returned a few minutes later with a box full of metal ware.

"There's not much I can add that will help against break-ins when you are not at home, to be honest. Anything that you need to lock and unlock from the outside can also be breached by people who have the tools, knowledge and patience. Short of installing a massive electronic security system I can't think of much to stop them, and even then they only have to break a window to get in anyway."

She came into the hallway and closed the door, turning back toward it.

"However I have some nice low-tech things you can use to lock yourself in."

She held out a heavy thing that looked like a giant hinge. It had a metal shield on both sides.

"This thing we bolt on the wall here," she held one side against the wall on the hinge-side of the door. "and then this arm swings out until it lies against the door, and you click this lever into place to lock it… like so."

The thing now made a 90-degree angle in the corner of wall and door. The door couldn't swing inward. Even with all the locks opened, it simply wouldn't open. And it would be invisible from the outside.

"What if someone puts his boot to the door?"

The locksmith examined the door critically.

"This is a good door. You get this special?"

It was the door Ranger had had installed for her at the same time with the security system.

"A friend got it for me."

"Well from the looks of it it'll hold, and I saw that this is a supporting wall, so unless they put enough weight to this door to push over the entire wall, this puppy isn't gonna open."

"I think I have to ask the super before I have this stuff installed. It might do damage to the wall, right?"

"Shouldn't. I brought some metal shields to distribute the weight if someone does give it a good kick. It won't look too pretty, but…"

"It'll be safe?"

"I reckon about as safe as you can get in a place like this."

Two hours later she was alone again, with the door locked solid. Maybe locks wouldn't stop overenthusiastic and invasive Rangemen while she was out, but she'd just though of something that would.

From:

To:

Subject:Please note

Dear all,

If any of you ever break into / search my apartment again, prepare for the most touchy-feely sensitivity training I can find. With meditation, and sharing, and everybody crying at least once. And I will arrange for this session to be videoed. In addition to that, I will sign you all up as a candidate for the TV show 'Queer Eye for the Straight Guy'. I'm sure the make-over team will find many things about you that can be improved. Respect for personal privacy being one of them.

Love,

Stephanie.

She didn't get up to much the rest of the day, apart from agonising about whether or not to have dinner with her family. The guilt about not telling them she'd broken her arm (though it was unlikely they didn't already know) warred with the horror of being fussed over like they would. Pineapple-upside-down cake versus self respect. What a choice. Then she remembered that with the bags of groceries Ella had included a microwaveable meal of pasta with lemon-cream sauce and chunks of roasted chicken. It smelt divine and the choice was made. Probably Ella jumped at the chance to cook for someone who wasn't obsessed with calories and sodium and saturated fats.

She also found Häagen-Dazs strawberry cheesecake ice cream in her freezer. Lester must have put it in. Life was good.

Stephanie woke with a jolt as metal sounds came from her front door. She'd fallen asleep on the couch with Ghostbusters on, her afghan around her shoulders. It was 10:20 in the evening. Seemed about the right time for migrating to her bed and going right back to sleep. Except that she had a visitor.

Who at this very same moment was discovering the merits of the newly installed hardware. She listened as the locks clicked open, and heard the hinges as someone pushed the door. And pushed again.

A moment later her cell phone rang.

"Yo."

"Babe."

"Heya, Ranger," she said brightly. Then waited. And waited.

He sighed.

"Could you please open the door?"

"Oh, it's you trying to get in," she said. "I had no idea." He disconnected.

Okay, so maybe she shouldn't bait him when he was going out of his way to care for her with her broken arm. She just couldn't stand the thought of him going through her apartment. When had he done it? How often? What had he been looking for?

She walked to the front door and disengaged the corner bolt. The door swung open.

Ranger was in cargoes and a lightweight black sweater, the sleeves pushed up his forearms. After work Ranger. He was carrying a black duffle bag, and he looked tired.

"Ranger."

"Babe." He sounded a little unsure of himself, as if he didn't quite know what kind of mood to expect of her. That seemed only fair. She still didn't know what to feel, so why should he know more than her? She stepped aside to let him in. He turned back to the door for a moment to examine the new bolt. Then he came into her living room and put the duffle on the table.

"Brought a tracer." He sounded remote, almost businesslike. Eerily like he'd sounded… it was only yesterday morning that she'd gone to his office hoping to make peace. A lot had happened since then. She wondered if they weren't back at the same place now. That thought made her intensely sad.

"A what?"

He pulled out a black hand-held device.

"This should trace any transmitter."

Ah.

"Do you think you'll find any?"

He gave her a level look.

"I discussed this with the men and they agreed with me that there was an important boundary between offering you a bugged gift and planting a transmitter somewhere in your home."

No mention of a boundary about searching her apartment. She'd get to that. First she was eager to make sure there really wasn't a transmitter somewhere.

He continued: "Nobody volunteered the information that this boundary had been crossed."

'We had better not find anything' was the clearly implied message. If anyone was listening in, they'd be booking a ticket to Easter Island right now.

She sat on the couch and watched him sweep the room meticulously. After about fifteen minutes he'd done the entire apartment, including bathroom and kitchen cupboards. He sat down on the opposite end of the couch, turning sideways to face her.

"Nothing."

"That's good," she said, not knowing what else to say. How to breech this sudden distance. Just last night he'd taken care of her with a gentleness that had amazed and endeared her. Now he was back to business.

"We're still on for Thursday?" he asked. She blinked. He was concerned about that? On second thought, maybe he should be. She wasn't sure how she felt about him right now.

"How often have you done it?" she asked instead of answering. No need to clarify what she was talking about. There was something of resignation in his eyes.

"Twice."

"When?"

"Once shortly after I met you for the first time."

"Why?"

"There was a project I was working on at the time. Meeting you… It all seemed so convenient that I wanted to make sure you were… what you claimed to be."

"As opposed to?"

He was silent for a while, looking at her. Finally he sighed.

"As opposed to someone planted to get closer to me."

Hmm. Okay. She didn't like it, but it was far enough in the past that she couldn't get particularly upset about it.

"And the second time?"

"Last week."

She gave him a steady look. His face was blank, his eyes cold. It was the closed-off expression she'd seen occasionally on his face during the Ramos mess. Now she thought of it, during that evening she'd hoped to bring him in because Joyce was blackmailing her. Was this his Army Ranger face? He clearly didn't find it easy to answer her questions on this.

"Why?" she asked softly. "Why did you think it was okay to go through my things? You're such a private person that there's loads of questions I feel I can't even ask you, and you don't even bother to ask me, you go straight to the source?"

"Babe…" he sounded a little pained. She waited.

"I used to…" he stopped, started over. "This kind of thing used to be my job. I did a lot of information-gathering missions and I was very good at it."

Of course. She'd never have known if her spidey sense hadn't prickled. Not a thing had been out of place.

"And if you do things like that often enough… you start to forget that there's a person behind the information you're gathering."

Like… the background checks she ran every day. She did it as part of her job, but she tried to never forget that it was someone's private life she was digging into, and always treated the information as confidential. Nothing she found out from those checks was going to end up in the Burg grapevine.

"I got… carried away… with the whole Rangeday thing." He paused a moment, seeming to struggle for words. "Didn't stop to consider that this time, I wasn't under orders, and that I had to decide on the boundaries for myself."

She sat a little stunned. That was way more than she'd ever expected to hear from him. Tank had mentioned once that he'd quit the Rangers because it felt like he was becoming a machine. She wondered if it had been the same for Ranger.

"Yes," she finally said. He gave her a questioning look. "Thursday," she clarified.

His face slowly relaxed, and the army look disappeared. She smiled because it was a relief to at-ease Range reappear. Then at-ease Ranger made way for something-up-my-sleeve Ranger.

"Good. Since you're having such a good time with all the mystery, I'm not telling you where we're going."

Oh boy.

TBC.

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