Side Story: Congratulations!!!
Hal’s POV
I’m currently bound, gagged and blindfolded. I have no idea what’s going on or why. I just know who’s going to pay for it.
Ram.
I trusted that man with my back, and the moment I turn it, I get hit with something that knocks me out. That’s the last thing I remember. This would never have happened with Junior at my back.
It’s been a hard month. Steph and I went through the duties assigned to the XO and CO and we realized (to my detriment and Steph’s happiness) that a lot of the work that Ranger was doing at RMTrenton is work that is eventually taken on by the XO when the Leadership Core leaves. Just for verification, I called Danny to ask him about his workload and he confirmed that assumption.
It’s a good thing I did. I would have been stuck with it on my own had I not, because Steph was determined to offload part of her workload somewhere and I was the likely target. Remembering Danny’s advice, I called a meeting of the Core Team and we took a weekend to determine who was going to have which duties. So now, Steph has a lot less work and gets the fun of being responsible for the global picture of RangeMan while the Core Team gets the rest of the (not!) fun work of the branch.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to be Tank, but I took the job because he and Ranger believe in me. Do you have any idea what that means to me?
I was the guy who was laughed at for months because this tiny woman, half my size, managed to fell me with my own stun gun. And I was the idiot who gave her the weapon! Tank had me on the mats for weeks for that and, at the time, I couldn’t see the point. Yes, I messed up. I handed over my weapon. I allowed her to turn it against me. I allowed her to clear the building. I lost sight of her and allowed her to be kidnapped by hostiles. She was nearly killed.
But who has ever stopped Steph from doing what she pleased? And I wasn’t sure what the SOPs were for her at the time. I knew that this woman was Ranger’s woman. I knew she was important. Was I allowed to use force? Was I allowed to handle her bodily to keep her in the building? SOPs stated that her questions were to be answered promptly and truthfully. It had nothing on touching her or physical contact. There were no exceptions for her best welfare.
I still think she should have to put some time in on the mats with Tank for that.
Flashback
Two months later, once my body and mind (but not my pride) healed, Ranger took me out to the woods for a refresher on maneuvers. I was certain he was still furious with me and that I was about to be allowed the opportunity to run for my life. After all, we were the only two in the SUV, and I was hoping that someone someday would find parts of my body for burial. So imagine my surprise when we arrive and he cuts audio monitoring and turns to me.
“My first time out with Steph, I got shot.”
I’m pretty certain my jaw hit my chest. Ranger? Ranger Mañoso? Carlos Mañoso got shot? He doesn’t get shot. He shoots! He gets away! He’s brilliant, like smoke, never seen, never heard, never sensed! My face must have been telegraphing these thoughts because he looks away and grimaces.
“We were going after her first FTA, not Morelli but this asshole named Lonnie Dodd. He was way out of her league and armed and dangerous to boot. So I offered to back her up. She knocked on the front door, and like all idiots, he came sneaking out the back. I had him in my sights, told him to freeze and get down, when she comes tearing around the house. I tell her to put the cuffs on him, but of course, it’s Steph. She’s unprepared for this. So I take my eyes off this asshole, just for a moment, in order to pull my cuffs, when he shoots. She never checked him for weapons, I didn’t tell her to check him for weapons because I assumed she had that much sense, and he still had a gun in his waistband. I got shot in the thigh, he goes running, and Steph manages a flying tackle to take him down.”
Ranger shakes his head, and I’m imagining this scene but I can’t. I simply can’t imagine it. Ranger was shot? That literally never happens.
“Tank had you on the mats for a few reasons.
- Never hand over your weapon, especially if you don’t have a backup of the same type.
- Never hand over your weapon unless you are headed into a situation where your backup having the weapon is necessary.
- Always question why the ‘friendly’ doesn’t have their own weapon, especially if they ask you for your weapon.
- Never underestimate the opponent.
- Orders are orders. We gave you a pass on this one because we realized afterwards that the orders were vague.
- If orders are unclear, then leadership is at fault. Question leadership for clarification. Make sure you understand. You didn’t.”
I have to agree with all those statements. They were all covered in Green Beret training. Idiot me for forgetting it. Lester approaches and Ranger waves him off.
“Your time on the mats with Tank should not be seen as punishment for you. It is a reminder of what we expect. We expect you to push yourself to be better. We expect you never to fall for that trick again. We expect you to keep us accountable. We expect you to chime in with your suggestions and recommendations when you feel that there is a worthwhile change to be made.”
We sit in silence for a moment while I consider what I’ve been told.
Ranger’s lips twitch. “You should know that in being stunned by Steph, you joined a very small and very influential club within RangeMan. It’s not a public one, nor is it one that is discussed, but you’ll spend time with the members this weekend.”
I can’t imagine what it could be. We exit the car, and I see all of Leadership sitting around a campfire in the middle of the Jersey woods. I sit in the offered chair and wait for the pronouncement of my fate.
“Gentlemen, we have a new member of the ‘Fallen Plum’ society,” Lester says, smiling. “Henry Linden, please stand.”
Huh? ‘Fallen Plum’ Society? What’s this?
“Membership in the ‘Fallen Plum’ society is based on two criteria: One: Having done something which your training and common sense should have prevented, and Two: Having done it because you either fell for some innocent trick of Stephanie Michelle Plum or because you made assumptions about her fitness later proven to be disastrously false.”
“Gentleman, let me read the citation.” Lester pulls out a piece of paper. “Membership is being extended to one Henry ‘Hal’ Linden for falling for the ‘old blue eyes’ routine.”
At this Bobby and Ranger start laughing and Tank cracks a smile. Great. Now Leadership is laughing at me. Well, at least they took me out into the woods to laugh at me.
“Hal Linden looked into Stephanie Plum’s eyes and handed over his weapon. In doing so, he was stunned with his own weapon in front of his colleagues and coworkers. His momentary lapse in judgment led to the embarrassment of RangeMan being too late to the scene to effect a rescue and being upstaged by the world’s ugliest cross-dresser with an Uzi and school bus.”
At this point, Lester is barely coherent. Bobby and Ranger are rolling around on the ground in peals of laughter. Tank’s shoulders are actually moving and there are tears streaming down his face. This was not my finest hour, and I’m certain, to this day, that my face was entirely purple. Lester finally pulls himself together and clears his throat. Bobby, Ranger and Tank all stand with smirks on their faces.
“For your actions, Hal Linden, we present to you a new stun gun,” from Tank “a new vest,” from Ranger “and a box of bandages” from Bobby. “We also present you with a bottle of scotch, single malt, and cigars” from both Bobby and Lester, smiles on their faces.
Tank slaps me on the back. It hurts. “I broke my leg with Steph.” What?!?!?!
Bobby grimaces. “I managed to knock myself out with half a dozen syringes loaded with a sedative.”
Ok, that was funny. I want to know how he did that.
Tank cuts his eyes at Bobby. “And how did you do that, Brown?”
Thank you, Tank!
Bobby glares at me. “Repeat it and you will never see pain relief again.” I nod. “I sat on the fucking syringes.” I remind myself not to laugh right then, wait to laugh about that later. “Now you can tell him how you broke your leg.”
Tank looks at me. There’s no need; I won’t say anything. “I fell. Out a building.” There’s more to that story, I know. How does one fall out a building?
Lester groans. “I loaned Steph my car keys. To my perfectly restored, candy apple red, ’66 Pontiac GTO. I didn’t mean to toss her those keys, but it was supposed to be a simple grocery store run. Haven’t seen that car since. Pretty sure it ended up at a chop shop. Since it led to my being able to purchase the BMW and the Range Rover, I shrugged it off.” He shakes his head. “Eventually.”
Ranger snorts. “After he cried for weeks. And I don’t mean manly tears. I mean, a four-year-old having a tantrum tears.” Lester glares at Ranger while I try not to laugh. I fail, but it’s OK; my laughter is drowned out by Bobby and Tank. Finally, they look at Ranger. “I already told him.” They nod, smiling.
Lester snorts. “Shot in the goddamn thigh. Betcha he didn’t tell you what Lonnie Dodd very nearly hit, did he?” Ranger lunges for Lester, who takes off. “Ranger might be half a man if Lonnie were a better shot.”
OK, that was more than I ever wanted to know about my boss, but it was freakin’ hilarious. And painful. Hilarious and painful. Bobby and Tank are rolling on the ground again. I’m certain I’m purple, and I join Bobby and Tank on the ground.
We sit down and each man tells me the full story behind his inclusion in this club. I am the first person not in Leadership to join, and I realize that this is not a chance to embarrass me. This is their way of telling me that I am forgiven. That they understand why it happened, because it happened to them too. That they understand the ribbing I’ve been getting. They were all lucky enough to have it happen when no one, no other RangeMan, was around. I’m the one whose humiliation was public.
That weekend we sat around getting drunk, pissing in the woods, doing stuff I hadn’t done since I left the Army. I felt like a valued member of the team. I had been forgiven. Tank and I went for a run, and he explained that to be the quiet guy meant you were always underestimated. You had to decide if you were going to fight it or use it to your advantage. He used it to his advantage. Since I color so easily, my thoughts would always be prominent on my face; I had to learn how to use that to my advantage.
Ranger admitted he was ready to fire me at first, until he saw the tape. Then he had to give me credit for lasting as long as I did in the face of a determined Steph. He said he’d put me in charge of her safety again, knowing that she’d have to shoot me to get past me a second time. I thanked him for the second chance and agreed but said I hoped it didn’t come to that.
Ever since then, I’ve been more willing to ask questions. I’ve been more willing to take on responsibility. After that, the Leadership Core lost a tiny bit of their God-like status in my eyes because they showed me that they were somewhat human too. That stuff happens, but what matters is your response and what you learn from it. Steph was the great equalizer.
That weekend gave me the courage to approach Tank and ask for additional training. I think he was shocked by it, but I wanted to dispel the assumption that I was some big dumb oaf. Now no one approaches me on mats except Leadership Core and Hector. Apparently, being trained by Tank makes you an acceptable sparring partner for the Leadership Core Team when no one else is around.
No one takes me for granted anymore.
That’s why I’m so furious right now. We—Ram, Manny, and I—had surveillance at this hole in the wall club on the south side of Trenton, so of course, we were all posted in the club trying to be inconspicuous. It was my first time out in the field in a month and I wasn’t going to miss it. I had a table near the stage when I sensed someone approach me from the rear. I felt a prick, and that’s all she wrote. I thought I was better. I didn’t think I would be taken down so easily ever again.
The silence of the approach means it had to have been Ram who did me in.
Now I’m in a car, no, an SUV headed somewhere. I know that there are at least two people in this SUV. I can hear the breathing.
“He’s awake.” Manny.
“And he’s angry.” Ram, sounding amused. I work the gag out of my mouth.
“You’re darn skippy I’m angry. If you guys rescued me, why am I still tied up and blindfolded?”
“Because we can.”
I’m planning the retribution. It will be swift and merciless.
The car stops, and I’m left alone with one of these idiots for a long time. The other returns.
“We good?” Ram.
“Oh yeah, we’re good.” Manny. OK, so I was left alone with Ram. Wish I’d known. He’s a dead man.
We park, and the door next to me opens. I’m waiting, trying to gauge where the opponent, is but they’re being extra stealthy. This must be Ram. Man, I hate snipers. You never ever hear them, coming or going. I’m forced out of the SUV and I feel both of them take my arms and frog march me inside a building, into an elevator, and into a room.
I smell stale beer and something salty. Chips? Maybe pretzels? Coconut, so lotion? Not sure. The room is warm, too warm for the average April evening. It’s also quiet, too quiet, which means there are more people here. Normal activity would have some noise. I still can’t see or hear anything. My bindings are removed, I’m seated in a chair and I wait.
I’m going to kill Ram. I know where I am. This has to be a strip club.
Sure enough, my blindfold is removed and I blink to see the world’s biggest breasts not two inches from my face. Dear God. Breasts. They don’t appear to be surgically enhanced either.
I can’t fight the erection. It’s swift and merciless and a little bit painful. I’m sure I’m red too. It’s been entirely too long since I’ve seen a pair of naked breasts willingly dangled in front of my face.
“Hell yeah, boys, let’s get it poppin’ in here!” Manny yells.
I can’t take my eyes off the breasts in front of me, and as they start to move, I hear laughter. The music starts and at least 10 more strippers walk, dance, slide in.
“Been a minute, XO?” Woody laughs. I sense flashbulbs going off.
“Fuck off. I’m busy,” I reply.
This response causes peals of laughter. Contrary to popular opinion, I know plenty of curse words. I was Army. They were issued with the blank face. I simply choose not to use them unless necessary. Right now they’re necessary.
The stripper (is she still a stripper if all she has to strip is a G-string?) lowers herself onto my lap, starts to grind, stops, looks confused, then looks down. She grins, unzips my pants and feels around. Please lady, don’t tease. He hasn’t seen active duty in a long time, and if you aren’t going to put him into action, don’t mobilize him. She re-zips my pants, stands up, and pulls me to my feet.
“I think he deserves a private lap dance in the champagne room for a little while,” she says to Ram.
Ram blinks, looks at me, and grins bigger than I’ve ever seen this man grin before in my life. What’s a champagne room? I’m more a beer man to be honest. I don’t really like champagne. As I follow the breasts wherever they may lead, I hear the words “champagne room” whispered and laughter break out.
An hour later, I not only know what a champagne room is, I’ve had nasty, dirty things done to me in one that I’m eager to repeat. They don’t make women who are willing to do stuff like that in Kansas. If they do, I never found them. The ones I found in the Army you couldn’t pay me to touch. My fantasies will never be able to compete again. And I verified that those breasts were definitely real.
I walk out the champagne room unsteady on my feet. It’s not helped by the multitude of flashbulbs that suddenly go off in my face. Once the purple spots clear, I can see that all of RangeMan Trenton’s leadership is here except Hector. Ram, Manny, Woody, Zip, Junior, Zero, Binkie, and Caesar are all here. Did I approve this gathering in one of the many thousand pieces of paper shoved in front of my face? No, I’m pretty certain I didn’t. Oh God, did Steph? If Steph approved strippers at this party, I could never look her in the face again. There’s at least twice as many strippers as men in this private party room. My clothes aren’t on quite right, and the guys are rolling with laughter. Finally, Ram calls for attention.
“Gentlemen, we are here tonight not to celebrate our promotions. WE wouldn’t go all out for that. WE are here to congratulate Hal Linden for having the biggest set of balls in our office!”
The guys cheer for me and I’m still trying to get my shirt back on right. The original stripper, Candy, approaches me with a beer and a wink. I had her wailing like a banshee 10 minutes ago, and I get the feeling I’ll leave here with her phone number.
“Let me read the citation, direct from the Leadership Core Team.” Oh Lord. What did Lester write this time?
“To Hal Linden, for his creativity in the creation and implementation of the Microsoft Outlook Calendars, for organizing and visually identifying the workload of RMTrenton;
For the Linden-King fight, sorry, ‘discipline session’, where he proved that he truly is a bad-ass muthafucka not to be trifled with;
For the Linden-Phillips showdown, where he took ownership of his new job and put his peer in check;
For his bravery the night of his promotion, when he had both the wits and courage to ask if he was going to have to be responsible for the CO, directly forcing the question no one wanted to ask and pushing her to take responsibility for her life, your lives, and the welfare of the company;
We do present Hal Linden with this envelope,” Ram hands me a sealed envelope, “and this all-expenses paid weekend. Live it up, Hal! We are proud of you. And someone get a picture of his balls! We gotta get those bronzed!”
“It does not say that!” I reach for the paper and, by God, it does! I look up just in time to realize I’m too late to run. The guys have my pants around my ankles and are taking multiple shots of my crotch and laughing. Apparently that long last lipstick really does last.
It was the start to an excellent weekend. Ram had called Javier to ask him to cover our office for the weekend. All important paperwork was locked down tight, and Hector would be overseeing Javier so he didn’t go snooping. We had two suites at the Borgata Casino and Hotel and we played poker, got drunk, and went to the strip clubs. I’d forgotten how much fun it could be to just hang out with the guys, my friends and co-workers, having fun. Yeah, we have a good time at RangeMan but it’s usually work related. I make a mental note to ensure that the guys can get out and have more non-work related fun more often.
I call Candy (real name Candace) and we have an actual date. Like, we met somewhere, I brought flowers, we had dinner, we talked, then we went back to her apartment did things I’m almost embarrassed to remember. She’s on my speed dial and wants to see me whenever I can get away. I wasn’t that willing until she told me that my trip to the champagne room was not charged. That was her eagerness to see if I lived up to what her fingers suggested. My soldier is thrilled that he might see active duty a bit more often than never. Ram and Manny tried to tease me, but when I asked when they last got laid, they shut up. Yup, good to be me, but I tell them I’ll cover for them if they find someone to get away with.
I shudder to think how much this weekend is costing the Leadership, but they insisted. I got my party. They got their pictures (I hope pictures of my crotch don’t end up on the internet. Or the SharePoint site.) Once again, I feel like a valued member of the RangeMan team.
I waited until Sunday night to open the sealed envelope, and there were four notes and four checks inside. Personal notes and personal checks.
‘Hal,
Thank you and congratulations. I appreciate you remembering to hold everyone accountable.
Bobby’
The check was for $10,000.
‘Hal,
Thank you and congratulations. Feel free to ask the difficult questions.
Lester’
The check was for $10,000
I made a color copy of the last two checks and framed them with their notes.
‘Hal,
Thank you and congratulations.
‘If orders are unclear, then leadership is at fault. Question leadership for clarification. Make sure you understand.’
You did.
Ranger’
The check was for $15,000.
‘Hal,
Proud of you. I expect great things.
Tank’
The check was for $15,000.
