Chapter Seven

January 2006

A few days after Christmas, we went to Papa's GM dealership, purchased our first four vehicles and returned the Chevy Tahoe he had loaned us for the past few months. We'd liked the Tahoe so much that we bought two more, a fully loaded GMC Yukon and a GMC Sierra. I planned to make the Yukon my regular ride until I could afford my dream car. Hector left a few weeks ago for Washington, taking one of the Tahoes with him so he'd have something to drive while he was there. Tank was driving the other Tahoe, and when we needed a truck, we'd have the Sierra on hand. As soon as we started offering security services and had some clients, we'd need more vehicles, but this was a good start for now.

Through Hector, we'd been hired to run background checks on prospective agents for the FBI, and the Special Agent-in-Charge of the local office had been impressed with the results of the first few searches we made, all thanks to Stephanie. Given the sensitivity of the information and how integral Stephanie had become to our research efforts, I'd officially hired her as a contract employee, and we'd had to submit to a background check to obtain a security clearance for her. Tank, Hector and I already had Top Secret clearances due to our work for the military and, in Hector's case, the Pentagon.

Today, Tank and I planned to interview some potential employees, figuring it was time to start the staffing process. We'd need time to get them up to speed, ensure they were as physically and mentally fit as possible, and that their marksmanship was up to par. I'd been schmoozing potential clients at the local Rotary Clubs and Chamber of Commerce, and so far, my efforts had paid off. We'd been hired as a bodyguard for a state Senator at a fundraising dinner here in Trenton, and I'd lined up several of the jobs Stephanie coined 'redecorating jobs.'

Since nearly the beginning of our friendship, I have found it easy to be around Steph. She is warm, easygoing, quick with a laugh, and generally draws people to her. Since she's been here so much over the past few weeks, we'd spent a lot of time together, and our friendship had grown. There hadn't been any more kisses, but the low hum of sexual tension was always present. The last thing I wanted was to treat her like a one-night stand. Our friendship was too important to me to risk losing it, but I thought about her all the time. No woman had ever made me feel anything more than temporary lust, and I wasn't sure what to do with all of these feelings. Could I become involved with her seriously? What if I went on a mission and didn't come home? Could I subject her to that kind of pain? And what if an enemy came back and targeted her to avenge my actions? I'd never forgive myself if she were hurt because of me.

"Yo, man. The first interview is here," Tank said, poking his head into my office door, interrupting my thoughts. He looked at me a little more closely but didn't say anything about my obvious distraction.

"Let's see him in the conference room on the second floor," I said. "I'll meet you down there in a moment." He nodded and disappeared.

I grabbed my copy of the background check we had run and took the stairs down to the second floor. The few applicants we'd had so far had all been referred by someone we knew, but we still ran a check on them to make sure there were no ugly surprises in store. I didn't want to hire anyone with a history of crimes against women or children, though I was open-minded when it came to rehabilitation for former convicts in general. Some people would take one look at Hector and write him off as a criminal because of his teardrop tattoo, but it'd be a mistake to underestimate him because of a youthful mistake that we'd both made.

I entered the conference room, nodded at Tank and our interviewee, then sat at the head of the table.

"Ranger, this is Bobby Brown," Tank introduced. Bobby was well-built and looked to be around six feet tall. He had skin a few shades lighter than Tank's and hair braided in tight cornrows.

"Good to meet you. I understand you were in the Navy Seals."

"Yes, Sir. I was trained as a hospital corpsman before that."

"Why the switch to the Seals?"

"I need to push myself. To prove to myself that I could do it."

"Then why quit when your term was up?"

"My mom got sick. Cancer," he elucidated. "So when my term was up, I took the opportunity to begin separation so I could move home to help her and my Dad."

"Is she okay now?" I asked.

He smiled. "She's in remission now and has been okay for a year. She insisted I move on to the next phase of my life, and I heard about your new company. I thought it sounded intriguing when Lieutenant Matthews asked me if I were interested."

"Where did you hear about RangeMan?" I hadn't told many people yet and wondered how the news had gotten out.

"Your brother," he said, smiling. "Corporal Santos has mentioned his plans to several people and word spread. I suspect you'll have many applications."

"I know Lieutenant Matthews very well, and he spoke very highly of you. Would you be interested in becoming our company medic? That would be your primary job once we are fully operational and staffed, but you'd also have secondary duties when your medical skills aren't needed. Until then, I'd like everyone cross-trained at every job while we build the company." I had a very good feeling about Mister Brown. I looked over to Tank, and as I finished, he nodded minutely. I guess he felt the same way.

"I'd be very interested. It sounds like a good opportunity. What sort of services will RangeMan offer?"

"Eventually, we'll offer security systems, full visual and audio monitoring depending on what our clients want, neighbourhood patrols and response to alarms. In the interim, we've already begun bond enforcement, bodyguarding, commercial security, and redecoration. We'll consider anything else that comes up."

"Redecoration, Sir?" Bobby asked.

My lips twitched as I thought about Steph coming up with that description. "A term one of our contract employees came up with. Landlords hire us to rid their property of junkies and squatters."

He smiled. "I like it."

Yep, I had a good feeling. Tank and I had already discussed our hiring goals and starting salaries for future employees. We had decided that the more unique skills a candidate offered, the more money we would offer them as their starting salary, with expected raises as the company grew. Knowing from his nod that he felt the same way, I didn't bother reconfirming. "Bobby, we'd like to offer you a position with RangeMan. We can offer a starting salary of sixty thousand per year, with yearly reviews and raises. In addition, we'll have a generous medical benefits program and apartments on the fourth floor for those who need them."

"Wow. That would be great. My parents live in Philly, so I haven't moved here yet. When do you need an answer?" Bobby asked.

"Let us know as soon as you can," Tank said. "Since we're building the business, the hiring is ongoing. However, we're only planning on one medic for now, so if you're not interested, we'll interview others with medical knowledge."

Bobby nodded. "I can let you know by the end of the week. Thank you both for meeting with me."

I stood and said, "Nice to meet you, Brown. I hope you decide to join us." I handed him my business card and then left. During the interview, my pager had vibrated in my pocket. I had just gotten this pager, and so far, I'd only given the number to Les Sebring and Vinnie Plum. It was from Les Sebring, so I called him back from my office. He had an FTA with a substantial bond. A hundred and twenty thousand dollars would be our cut after we tracked him down and brought him back into the system. We had another interview in twenty minutes, so after it was done, I'd run to Sebring's office and grab the file. I texted Steph to ask her if she could come by this afternoon to run a search on the skip. She always finds a seemingly innocuous piece of information that helps us somehow.

I finished a few more tasks, then told Tank I'd meet him in the conference room. Five minutes later, Tank led our second interview, Ramsay Ramstead, nicknamed 'Ram,' into the room. His parents obviously didn't have much imagination. He was formerly with the US Marines, occupied as a sniper. He was tall, over six feet, and had cropped dark brown hair, pale skin, and intense blue eyes. They were even bluer than Stephanie's but a few shades lighter than hers.

I stood and shook his head before gesturing to one of the chairs along the side of the conference table. Tank sat in the chair immediately to my right.

"Thanks for coming in, Ramsay," I began. "Your company commander, Captain Wentworth, speaks highly of you."

"Thank you, Sir. You can call me Ram; everyone does," he said with an easy smile.

I nodded. "Ram. I understand you were with the Marines for eleven years. What's prompting the change of career?"

"I'd like to start a family one day. Life in the military, especially as a sniper, is mostly a solitary one, but it's not what I want for my future."

"Well, civilian life will help with that. But this isn't exactly a nine-to-five job. What will happen if you are needed to work on a late shift?"

"Well, I don't have a family yet," he smiled. "Truth is, I don't know what will happen. I'd like to imagine that my future wife will understand that sometimes work will come first."

We continued talking for another thirty minutes. Tank took the lead this time and told Ram about the company's goals and benefits, and I observed their interactions. I already knew everything I needed to know about Ram, both from the background check I had run and from his commanding officer, but I wanted to get a sense of what type of man he was and if his personality would lend itself to working on a team. Sometimes, snipers are lone wolves and quiet by necessity. Traits I happen to possess myself. But Ram didn't seem like that at all. He was easy-going and amiable.

I looked to Tank as I asked Ram, "Do you have any questions for us?" Tank nodded his head once, and I focused again on Ram.

"No, I think you and Tank have answered all my questions," he replied.

"We'd like to offer you a position with RangeMan," I said. "We can offer you fifty thousand to start, with regular salary reviews and increases based on performance. In addition, we have apartments here in the building, should you need one."

He accepted our offer and said he could start in two weeks, giving himself time to return home and pack up his life to move to Trenton. He took us up on our offer of an apartment, and I left Tank with him to start some employment paperwork while I went to Les Sebring's office to grab our new file.

Thankfully, Jeanne Ellen was not in the office this time. She had been present with increasing frequency during my visits and had become less subtle when hitting on me. Once upon a time, I might have taken her up on what she was offering, but even if I were interested in her, it wasn't a good idea to shit where you ate.

It was easy to remember that adage regarding Jeanne Ellen, but it was a completely different story with Stephanie. I was having a hard time remembering to keep my hands off her. I think she might be feeling the same way. I've felt her eyes on me more than once, but we've kept things platonic. I've started spending more of my downtime with her, though. She was fun to be with and never boring.

Tonight, I was picking up takeout from Pino's, her favourite casual restaurant, and bringing it to her apartment. She had asked for her favourite meatball sub, and I had a house salad. She had picked up a couple of movies from Blockbuster and was surprised when I chose The Wedding Crashers over The Legend of Zorro, but it didn't stop her from teasing me all night about looking like Zorro.

I plugged the DVD into her player and sat at the end of the sofa. She snuggled into me, so I put my arm around her and held her close as the movie played. Her hair smelled of strawberries and was intoxicating. I had difficulty concentrating, especially when she'd grin and look up at me during an amusing scene, wanting to see my reaction.

"This movie is so funny. I'm glad you picked this one first. Even if you look more like Zorro than these two guys." I chuckled, and she laughed alongside me. "I'm glad we're friends, Ranger," she said, and I looked down at her.

"Me too, Babe." I smiled at her, and we held eyes for a moment. She ran her fingers along my side, making me shiver inwardly. She scooted closer, tilted her head, and kissed me. At first soft with light pressure, the kiss quickly flared into something much more intense. I hauled her into my lap, and she quickly rearranged herself to straddle me. I threaded my fingers into her hair and pulled her closer. I could feel every inch of her soft curves pressed into me, and I groaned. "Babe, we gotta stop."

"Don't want to," she mumbled as she moved to my neck and pressed kisses to the skin. "I want you, Ranger."

Oh, damn. I was in trouble.