Chapter 8

Sorry for the delay, my back is telling me I spend too much time here already. Also dueling browser problems, shhhesh.

Michelle lay on her bed before going to sleep. She assessed the day as she has done since Tank began training her. Every day he asks for yesterday's assessment plus adds his own observations. While embarrassing, she realizes it is yet another way he impressed upon her learning continues every day.

"Sir," she still used the formal reply to keep herself from becoming too emotionally attached to him. Since Dickie Orr, Stephanie Plum was without a boyfriend for several years. It wasn't until she met Joe Morelli, the FTA, again at nearly the same time Carlos Manoso that she became so entwined with men. Her life became too complicated. Yes, her mother was responsible for part of this, "It is time you find yourself a man and get married like a proper Burg woman."

Since New Year's she and Tank had developed great respect and admiration for one another but neither wanted it to cross the barrier into something more. At least she didn't. She was enjoying finding the strong person inside of her.

"Sir, do you assess yourself daily?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm mortal. If I don't continually critique myself, I'll become stagnant. We need to push ourselves to be better; physically, mentally, socially, and spiritually," he said with surprising humility.

"Sir, is there some area you are slipping, if I may so bold as to ask?"

Ah, good time for a Michelle test to see how she reacts, Tank thought. "Since Ranger left, I haven't had a decent work out on the mats," he chuckled. "I keep up the others' training but nobody has yet given me a real workout." He watched her carefully. She didn't react at mention of Ranger's name. Was she finally mending?

Michelle didn't flinch, she surprised herself. "Sir, I doubt I'll ever reach Ranger's level of giving beat downs. Sorry I can't help." She could say his name out loud!

Tank smiled, "Mitch, don't underestimate yourself. Your reputation with groins shots keeps us guys off guard. As a result, you sneak in some mighty fine hand combinations from time to time."

As she ended her day doing her mental review; did she do her best? What could she have done better? After making mental notes she thought of the Rangemaninja event coming up in November. She was never one for competition, nobody in her family acknowledged her efforts, so why bother? But Michelle did care. She wanted to improve and daily was in competition with herself. She had come a long way since last Christmas Day, plus she truly enjoyed terrain training with Lester. Yes, she'd go to Atlanta.

Suddenly Ranger popped into her mind. If he was dead, would the games be a tribute to him? Could she stand that? What if he wasn't dead, he might be there. The old Stephanie buried deep began creeping to the surface….tears threatened, no she couldn't go to Atlanta.

"Hey pussy," Mitch the Bitch crashed forward. "Are you going to throw away seven months of hard work, self-improvement in body and mind and your whole new life because Ranger's name will be mentioned? What would Tank say or do to you? What would the others say? Their looks of admiration grow larger each day. You are now an important part of Rangeman. Are you going to fall back into weak, pathetic Stephanie over a man? You are not Ranger's shack up or Joe's "train wreck. Snap out of it."

Michelle liked her new persona. She was as close to Wonder Woman as she'd ever get. She was now better, faster, stronger just like the Bionic Woman television show introduction said. Her free time was spent with various Rangeman in rock wall climbing, sky diving, parasailing off Point Pleasant and just a few weeks ago, tandem hang gliding in Bloomfield northwest of Newark. She even took a bungee plunge. She'd go to Atlanta and deal with whatever comes her way.

For all her recovered self-composure, tonight she was hesitant for the next item on her nighttime agenda; her talk with Ranger. She felt a bit of separation from him. Usually at night she'd tell him he was always in her heart and there was nobody but him. "Ranger, for the first time in many months I'm confused. I've assumed you are gone from us, but now I'm not so sure. You may be alive but have moved on with someone else. I can't talk with Tank about this or even Bobby and Lester. I let you go, the onus is on me. Rest assured I will deal with this as the mature person I'm becoming."

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"Mr. Raul Castillo?"

"Si."

"My name is Edna Mazur from Trenton, New Jersey. You purchased the Buick from me."

"Si, Mrs. Mazur I remember. What a wonderful car."

"Mr. Castillo my son-in-law, my 2 great granddaughters and I have moved to Melbourne. My great granddaughters speak fondly of Big Blue and I was hoping they could have one last ride. I understand if you say no, it is your car now."

"Mrs. Mazur, I live in Little Havana part of Miami. If you are ever down here, please let me know. I would be honored to show you my city from, what did you call the auto…Big Blue?"

"Mr. Castillo, my son in law wants to show the girls the Everglades before school resumes."

"School begins in early August Mrs. Mazur. Are you coming down soon?"

"We'll be in Miami in two weeks, it that too soon?" Edna said.

"I'm always available to show Big Blue to his admirers. Let me know the exact date," he chuckled.

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"Dad," Julie asked as they sat in the Porsche Panamera waiting for the light. "Do you miss Trenton?"

Ranger sat for a moment, "Not the town, but the Rangeman people. Ella's cooking is only surpassed by your grandmother's," he smiled. His attention was drawn to the parade of vintage cars cruising through Little Havana. Unlike Cuba's Havana where the cars are held together by prayers, here the selections are polished, chromed and as close to mint condition as possible.

"Why don't you go visit them?" Julie asked breaking Ranger's concentration on the cars passing in front.

How could he tell Julie about heartbreak? Would she understand just being in Trenton knowing she was there with Morelli would be unbearable?

Suddenly Julie got excited, "Look Dad, its Stephanie's car!"

Ranger was knocked back to reality; it was indeed a 1953 Buick Roadmaster probably the same one he saw earlier. He did a double take; sitting in the front passenger seat was…Edna Mazur? No, it had to be another older white woman with tightly curled air. Ranger turned right and began the follow the classic cars, in particular the blue Buick. He held back when the car pulled into the Marriott motel. Pulling to the curb near the front drive he watched as the passengers in the car got out. Unbelievably he immediately spotted Frank Mazur, the two granddaughters whose names he couldn't remember and Edna. Frank shook the driver's hand, clapped him on the shoulder and then turned and patted the car before taking the hands of his granddaughters and leading the women into the hotel. The driver then pulled away from the hotel. Ranger sat, dumbfounded.

"Dad, was that Stephanie's car?" Julie asked.

"If it wasn't her grandmother's car, it was one just like it." Ranger pulled back into traffic and vowed he would investigate further.

Later that night Ranger sat with his computer and traced Big Blue from Trenton to Miami to a Mr. Raul Castillo sold by Mrs. Edna Mazur. His curiosity got the better of him and he called Mr. Raul Castillo.

In the rapid fire Cubano Spanish Ranger introduced himself, explained he saw the car that day and how he remembered one just like it in Trenton belonging to an older lady.

"Si, Senor Manoso, it is the same car. I purchased it two months ago from Edna Mazur. She just recently moved to Melbourne with her son-in-law and 2 great grandchildren and wanted to visit the car. It was my pleasure to show them Little Miami in her former car."

Ranger didn't ask more questions though he had many, none Mr. Castillo could answer. "Thank you sir, it was indeed a pleasure to see that classic car once again. I hope you have many happy miles in it." Ranger hung up before Mr. Castillo became too interested in how the car was traced to him.

Ranger put down the phone, Frank, his granddaughters and Edna in Florida? Who else? Where were Helen and Valerie? It was disconcerting watching Frank hold his granddaughters' hands, he never exhibited any paternal interest before. He should call Tank and ask what happened, but hesitated. He'd send a text; the coward's way to communicate.

Tank's response came quickly: Divorces: Frank, 2GD + Edna in FL.

Ranger stared at the answer. Frank and Helen as well as Valerie and Albert divorced? What precipitated it? What about Stephanie and Joe, how did this affect her? He just started a search for Stephanie Morelli in Trenton when his phone rang. It was Marco, Ranger needed to answer. He checked back to his search after talking with Marco only to discover there was no Stephanie Morelli in Trenton. Perhaps they moved, he'd further the search another day, but didn't.

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Early November in Atlanta is the end of the comfortable season before winter's chill threatens. For the Rangemaninja, cooler weather is preferred. The challenge course and gun ranges were built in private property owned by Rangeman and remained on site throughout the year. The Ninja course was designed and built by former Army Engineers now Rangeman employees from Miami and Atlanta. Built of metal, it was disassembled and reassembled each year for the event. The exception was the 75' rope climb. The metal frame structure remained all year but with the rope removed until the next year's event. Swimming events were held an indoor pool rented for 24 hours. The other events; strong man and hand to hand were held at Rangeman Atlanta's own gym.

Each participant was required to participate in at least one weapons event; individual handgun, rifle/sniper, three gun, or a two man team objective course. The hand to hand combat event was encouraged for all. This was the first year it was open to women but only one applied, not Michelle.

Of the optional events: swimming, strongman, challenge course and Ninja course, by far the challenge course was the most popular. Those who had gone through basic training and especially Special Forces training were already familiar with many of the challenges. At Rangemaninja, the course was also timed.

Swimming events were fairly new, instituted by those who had served as SEALS. Many Rangemen stayed in shape with regular swimming so the event was also popular.

Strongman was a combination of weight lifting and weight carrying. All four offices had several employees who excelled in weights; Tank and Hal were but two examples at Trenton.

The Ninja course was a separate competition; a step above all the other events. Participants had ten extremely difficult obstacles. Several obstacles were so difficult and dangerous, participants were required to wear safety harnesses; otherwise a failure resulted in a fall into a safety net below or water. Those who successfully completed all ten were allowed to attempt to conquer Mt. Manoso, the timed 75' rope climb.

Awards were made for the best team showing but also best individual showing. A special award was given for the overall woman showing. The Ninja competition was separate.

Michelle arrived with the rest of the Trenton team. Charlie had come with his wife and daughter as his wife was from Georgia and wanted to visit her family. He and Michelle would be paired in the team weapons event. Charlie was also signed up for single weapon handgun, hand to hand, and the challenge course.

Michelle would do single weapon handgun, three weapon, challenge course and at Ram's insistence, swimming.

The Trenton Rangeman men competing in the Ninja course were Lester, Gino, and Manny. Bobby usually competed but someone had to remain in Trenton running the business.

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Michelle entered the hotel lobby early on swim competition day; her fellow swimmers would be along in a few minutes. As the turned a corner she nearly ran into a giant man greatly resembling Dwayne Johnson, The Rock, but even taller.

"Are you Mitch the Bitch?" the giant from Atlanta said. "I'm The Deacon, welcome to Atlanta."

Michelle looked at the giant 6'7" man only slightly less massive than Tank, "If you want to be a polite southern gentleman you can call me Michelle. However, I hope to add stripes to Mitch the Bitch at this competition."

He chuckled, "So you are the bonds agent who never had military training."

"Nope, none thought about it but by the time I was serious, others convinced me I was too old."

"Married?"

"Divorced and then ….well, a misfire or two. No current BFs. I have plenty of men to admire at Rangeman without jumping into the pool. I was emotionally wounded in my last plunge. The guys understand and standoff."

"How long have you been with Rangeman?"

Oh boy, how to answer? "Not long, about seven months."

"So you came after Ranger?"

How was she to answer without letting him know she knew Ranger? "He was gone. Tank and Lester run the organization. I hear a lot about Ranger and how Rangeman is run by his former Army buddies. Did you serve with him?" Deflect inquiries about yourself back on the other person.

"He was an ROTC wonder kid, Officer's Candidate School, came out a 2nd Lieutenant. He was in charge of our platoon. Most seconds are a bit wet behind the ears, not Manoso. He was in charge from the get go and we soon learned to appreciate his leadership."

"Who else was in the platoon?"

"Marco in Miami, Patrick in Boston and Tank, we were the "over-sized ones." Most Special Forces are lower to the ground, less visible targets. The smallest guy was Ric. When we got to company size we picked up Bobby, Lester, and Hal. Ric wasn't real thrilled to see his cousin there. We all kinda bonded, served together or supporting one another. Ric, left first, then Tank, Bobby and Lester a few months later. We kicked around the idea of security work after the Army so Ric was doing bail bonds to raise money for the new business. They started the original business in Trenton and by the time Marco, Patrick, and I mustered out it was time to work on Rangeman expansion."

"So Ric, err, Ranger was always in Trenton?"

"He wanted to move down to Miami to set up the office there, but he met a woman. He was so mad at himself because we knew, due to some previous issues, we were not marriage material."

"Why?" She was thinking about her dreams with her grandfather. Were they true?

"A mission we were on went bad and the…enemy swore vengeance on us. Partially the reason we formed Rangeman, protection for ourselves. We could watch for the guy. He had power and money and would send out assassins. He picked off some of us…"

"Government couldn't help?" she jumped in not really wanting to hear about assassinations.

"No. It was that damn screwy the "enemy of my enemy is my friend." The bastard played the US government so they wouldn't put sanction a hit on him. Manoso was the highest ranking of the survivors and had already survived several attempts on his life. Any woman he developed feelings for automatically became a target. He'd come down here and we'd sit with a bottle of scotch and he'd get plastered and tell me about her, how much he loved her and how he'd have to leave her just to keep her alive. He tried to keep her at arm's length resorting to being as ass from time to time. It killed him to do it. Apparently she had another boyfriend, a cop, who Ranger disliked but thought a safer choice. She took the other guy's ring and Ranger left, heart-broken but knowing it was the correct choice."

Michelle noted he never mentioned government missions. Did he do that on purpose, did he know about them, or did he feel they were superfluous to the story? In some small way old Stephanie blamed the missions on keeping her and Ranger from committing, but once again she learned it was safety, her safety.

Michelle was going to ask more questions, but Marco from Miami came over and needed to talk with The Deacon. Michelle excused herself and continued to the lobby to wait for the others. She needed to sit down, if she was the old Stephanie she'd be in tears. But the new Michelle kicked in. "He knew he'd have to leave, leave to protect me. He wanted to leave early on, but stayed…stayed for me. Now I understand….it's what's grandpa Mazur showed me. He loved me so much he had to leave."

Ram entered the lobby with the others on the Trenton swim team. "Are you ready to kick Flipper, Mitch?"

During the previous day's practice session she met the five other Rangewomen who would compete in the water events. "Where'd you swim, Mitch?" one asked.

"Excuse me?"

"What school?"

Michelle laughed, "I was not an athlete in school, far from it. My swimming was limited to the Atlantic during the summer, never competition. I hope not to drown, last place will be fine."

Tank came over the Michelle as she was preparing for her race. "I've seen you swim this in Trenton without problems. Your times are better than those they've done before and they consider you a patsy civilian. It's time to earn your first Bitch stripe."

Ram said basically the same thing to her building her confidence for the long 5 km swim. "Think of it as a day at the beach, swimming in the ocean. Relax and enjoy yourself, just keep your focus."

"What time am I shooting for?" she asked.

"Try finishing in less than 2 hours, you've done it before; don't let the competition get to your head." What he didn't say was one of the lady swimmers was a college star and alternate in the Olympics.

Initially the guys in this heat went out faster than she, but she kept with her pace and soon found herself passing several guys. She had only one other woman in this heat and had to strain to look across the pool to watch her. After a while she quit trying and just swam her race. When she touched she knew she wasn't the first, but there were more behind her than in front. The woman had beaten her. Mitch was fine, she was better than several men in her heat; that was enough.

Ram was beside her when she emerged, "Mitch, great swim! You were way under two hours, 114 minutes. That's your personal best." That placed her second among the women, the woman who beat her, the Olympic alternate, did so by less than a minute. Michelle was thrilled.

Later that day she had the handgun competition. Maybe she was too tired from the swim to be nervous? She surprised herself with an excellent run. She didn't stay around until the end; she needed to get to the three gun event. If she had stayed she would have seen Ranger was the last shooter in the competition and scored the highest.

Last spring Ram had been trying to fit weapons to her size and strength. She became so enthralled with the 3 different weapons; handgun, rifle, and shotgun she was going back and forth with them and hitting the targets. Who knew the old Bombshell Bounty Hunter was a crack shot?

The competition required she carry all three weapons, work her way through a course of varying targets using all three weapons. No other women signed up for this event so she was the oddity. Ram checked over her weapons as she prepared for the event.

"Mitch just enjoy yourself….and don't shoot your foot."

It was a joke between them and she laughed which helped her relax. Through the timed course she had to switch between the three weapons quickly. Her handgun was strapped to her leg, the rifle slung across her back and the shotgun in her hands. A judge ran along behind her keeping her safe and scoring. When she exited the course she had a huge smile. After safeing her weapons, she threw her arms around Ram, "Thank you for introducing this to me. Can you imagine the BBB running through the Burg armed like this? she laughed." Later she realized it was the first overt physical contact she had since joining Rangeman. Whoa.

When the days events were posted, The Deacon turned to Ranger, "Mitch from Trenton is quite the shot. She was best woman in handguns and now she gave Ram a run for his money."

"She?" Ranger asked. "Mitch is a she?"

"Yeah, Michelle but prefers Mitch. Muscular, short brown hair, guess she was hired after you left," The Deacon said.

Ranger thought of the financial report from Tank and how Mitch and Charlie were working investigations. Mitch and Charlie, he wondered if Charlie was Charlene. He decided to investigate when he noted Mitch and Charlie would be a team in the partner shooting event in the morning. Using paintball rifles the 2 man team worked their way through the course, entering buildings, shooting targets and avoiding getting hit by "snipers" using paintball rifles.

Michelle felt the course was very familiar yet it was totally unlike the one used at Trenton. Was this course the one from her grandfather's visits? She was moving between two buildings hugging one wall when in her head she clearly heard grandfather Mazur yell, "Down Curls!" She fell to the ground, rolled and shot the "sniper" from Boston. She and Charlie had the third best time but came away completely clean of paint ball hits.

Ranger was watching from a distance and marveled how she knew to drop avoiding the sniper. That woman was good! She was indeed muscular but her protection gear covered up her face. As she and her tall partner left the course, a little girl appeared. Mitch scooped her up, kissed her and handed her to Charlie. Ah, they were a couple and that was their daughter. Ranger turned and walked away.

The challenge course was Mitch's last competition. Lester stopped by to give her a pep talk, "Just go have fun. Think of our terrain training, wear a smile and fly."

The course began with monkey bars. This was a favorite from grade school, though here they were thirty bars, not just ten. She zipped through them and ran the half mile to the wall climb, a 15 foot vertical wall with a rope hanging down the face. Her mind flashed on the icy rock face Tank made her repel down months ago, this was easier and less bruising. After another half mile run, the next obstacle was a series of boxes of various heights. The contestant would have to stop, jump up on the box before jumping onto the next box. The tallest box, 24 inches, nearly tripped her. "Slow down Mitch," she said to herself, "The fun part is coming up." Running a mile through the woods over varying terrain, she had to clear wall hurdles often four feet high, no problem. The crawl under the obstacles was easy; at least there wasn't live fire overhead. A new addition to the challenge course was the kettlebells set in the road that had to be picked up and carried 50'. She kept her mind on the flying parts next and pushed through the 80 pound lift.

To get to the aerials, first was the cargo net climb. Lester had showed her how to center her gravity to remain vertical. The rope steps were no more difficult than a ladder. Once up to a platform she had to grab hold of a rope with her hands and legs and scoot across a water hazard. Falling into the water required crawling back up the cargo net and back onto the rope crawl. She had trained herself to think of this as a lazy man's rope climb as the technique was the same, except horizontal. Once complete she paused at the next platform to gather her breath and dry her sweaty hands. She didn't think she was 15 feet up in the air; she concentrated on the tightrope walk. Her only safety was another rope suspended above her head. If she slipped and missed the safety grab she'd be down in the water below. A lifeguard stood by, just in case. She traversed with ease as if her family name was Wallenda, not Plum. Coming off the platform was another rope ladder. This time it was easier to only climb down partially and then swing out and drop. When she landed, her neck tingled. "Sweat" she dismissed and ran to the parallel logs set on a steep angle. Once up the logs to higher ground, she had to run downhill picking up speed and grab a suspended rope and swing across another water hazard, let loose and land on dry land and run to the finish. Landing in the water would severely slow down her time. As she started down the hill to the rope, this was absolutely her favorite part of the course, her time to fly. Just like her dream with grandpa Mazur, she would fly free. The smile on her face was a mile wide and her blue eyes shown with excitement and anticipation.

Ranger was standing off to the side with Julie. She too loved this event, especially the swing over the water. The contestant coming down the hill wasn't huffing, instead she had a huge smile. Then he saw the eyes. The smile and eyes did it, it was Stephanie!

She caught the rope perfectly arching over the water, let loose and precisely the right time and landing on dry land and rolling to reduce the impact. "Good flight Super Woman" she heard someone call. She quickly got up and hopped for joy doing a little jig, wanting to return and swing on the rope again. Instead she turned and finished the course.

Tank, The Deacon, and Charlie were at the finish line laughing and applauding. Charlie handed her a space blanket and a water bottle. Michelle was still smiling as she rubbed the cold water bottle over her face and neck, "Who called to me?"

The three men had no answer. "Not us, what did they say?"

"Nice flight Super Woman "

The three laughed. "That was the best release I've ever seen," said The Deacon. "You easily cleared the water. Are you sure you didn't go through Ranger school?" The Deacon glanced for confirmation, but Tank was staring at something in the distance. Michelle unscrewed the water bottle and sipped but her neck was tingling again. She reached back to rub it as she noticed Tank looking at something. She turned and about fifty feet away stood Ranger and Julie.