Hal’s POV—Saturday

I’m nervous.

I really want to add a few trackers to her body, but I don’t want her to run screaming from the building.

Hector’s a man possessed. Everyone in Trenton knows not to go anywhere near him right now. His eyes are glued to the iPad and the blades are on display.

Sis is thrilled to have passed standards, and she and Lula are going to celebrate. I heard rumors of ice cream and Tastykakes and I winced. I hope she doesn’t fail the next monthly health check. I’ll have to ensure her results don’t get out if she only squeaks by. I don’t want anyone to say anything about her.

Right now, Ram and I are watching as she prepares for her maiden voyage as a fully-fledged RangeWoman.

Key fob? Check.

Gun? Check.

Permit to carry concealed? Check (I can’t believe it. Only she and Ranger have those permits in our entire office. Ram’s jealous.)

RangeMan badge? Check.

Wallet?

Searching.

“I know it’s around here somewhere.” She’s checking the bedroom. I’m searching the living room.

“Found it,” Ram says, holding it up. “Next to Rex’s tank.”

“Oh right! I wanted to get him some new pellets.” She adds that to her list and drops a few raisins in his tank. Rex is sleeping in his can right now.

“Got everything?” Ram asks.

“Car keys.” She looks giddy. Ram hands over his keys.

“What do these go to?”

“RangeMan SUV.”

She shakes her head. “Nope. I want to feel free.” We smirk and decide not to mention the trackers. “Yeah, I know I have trackers, but if I take a huge SUV I’ll feel like I’m making a pit stop on a stakeout.” We head down to 5 and look through the keys. “I’ll take this one.”

“You sure?” Ram asks.

Steph nods. “The car karma has been broken. I drove Hector’s Lexus in Point Pleasant and nothing blew up. I drove Les’s rental Mercedes once and nothing happened. Besides, Les left this car for me in case I needed something. It’s time for me to test my car karma in Trenton.”

She grins and heads to the garage. We watch her settle into the car and drive away.

Lester’s BMW. The 7-series. The $100K car.

Ram and I look at each other, eyes wide.

“Another garbage truck?” Ram asks.

“City bulldozer.”

---

The reaction to the CO’s scores upon passing standards was extreme. Diego reports that Miami is in disbelief that any woman could pass RangeMan assessments at that level. If you remove the swimming, Steph passed Army Basic PT at 80%, a standard that’s not matched by many men in the company.

Unless you’re in Trenton. That’s standard here. Every man strives to emulate the CCO, who routinely passes at 92%. The man is a machine. The rest of Leadership Core passes at 90%. To become an Army Ranger, you have to pass Army Basic PT at 80% minimum; the Leadership Core maintains excellence as a way of life.

The CIO normally passes at 86%. The XO (me) normally passes at 86%. Ram’s the slug; his score is usually around 80%. Scores here range between 75% and 85% and that’s why Trenton is smug. We trained the CO and we don’t slack. She was gonna pass and she was gonna pass high.

Miami finally began to believe it might be possible when Thomas confirmed that Mack, who is known for maintaining 80%, was a part of the assessment team. He saw the CO pass. She did it fair and square. He told everyone the CO has pointy elbows and a mean shin kick to add to the legend about her knee.

Miami Leadership sent three dozen white roses and a personal letter signed by Diego and Thomas. They promised to take her out for a day on the water in Miami and a night of dinner and dancing when she came for their assessment. Steph grinned and immediately put that letter in her folio. Armando sent a separate letter, also promising a night on the town in Charlotte. He said he and his wife would also take Steph out for a day at the rink in Miami during hockey season. Armando heard rumors she was a sports fan and Miami has a hockey team. Ram and I looked it up. They suck, so the game should be interesting.

San Antonio set up a video call. I could see Les, Ches Deuce, Jim, and Gene yelling ‘Congrats’ at the front of the crowd. Les reminded her to put San Antonio on her visit list. Then Bobby brought Steph the San Antonio gift, an iPad. Hector had already put security on it, but Bobby told Steph to check her movies. They’d loaded Ghostbusters on it for her. She hugged Bobby and blew a kiss at San Antonio. Les dove in front of the screen to capture it and we all laughed.

Boston’s response was surprising. They sent a bouquet, a large one made of roses, freesias, and calla lilies (thanks to Steph, every man at Haywood has become a flower expert). Steph was stunned. I’d checked it for explosives and bugs. It was clean (dammit) so I had to allow it into the building.

“Wow. . . ” she said, stroking the lilies. She looked at me and I shrugged. Maybe the punch knocked Mark’s brains back into place. I looked at Danny and Javi, who were scheduled to leave that afternoon. They shrugged.

“He’s trying,” Danny said. Steph dialed Boston.

“CO?”

“Mark? Thank you for the bouquet. It’s beautiful.”

“You earned it. Congratulations, Stephanie. Every man here is impressed and jealous. We’re looking forward to seeing you Monday.”

Steph smiled. “Thank you. I’ll see you Sunday night.”

“Right. Pat and I are picking you up from the Amtrak station.”

“Great. See you then.” Click.

I smirked. I don’t think RangeMan SOPs for phone conversations are getting revised anytime soon.

I go searching for Ram. We have to get the gift right.

---

Steph’s POV

I pull up to Lula’s apartment. She’s waiting.

“Hey, Girl! How’s it feel to be out that building without bodyguards?”

Lonely. “Free!” Weird. “I get to come and go as I please.” And now I have to watch your back and mine. I miss Hector already. He disappeared somewhere. I hope it’s not op-related. Or that he’s following me. “How’s the packing going?”

“Slow. I didn’t realize I had so much shit until I had to put it in boxes. I can’t wait for Tankie to come back with the truck and I can’t wait to move.” Lula sits back and smiles. “I never realized it could be that easy between us. I thought I’d have to trick him or some shit to get him anywhere near a minister. Instead, he’s pushing me.”

I grin. I’m happy for Lula. She’s finally getting the ‘Happily Ever After’. Bobby flew back to San Antonio and Tank flew to Charlotte to help Armando. He’s coming back in two weeks to help Lula finalize her move.

“Great! Well, we need to pick up your car from the shop, right?”

“Yeah. Let’s do that first, so you can get your hamster bait and I can grab some more boxes. Meet at the Stop and Shop?” I nod and set off for the body shop. Lula pays for her car and I head to PetSmart and buy a new hamster habitat and the best hamster pellets, according to the packaging.

I head to the Stop and Shop and meet up with Lula. She’s grinning.

“They were having a sale on weave next door. Whatcha think?” Lula walks over holding up a fire-engine red weave. I think it’s hideous, but I know Lula will find some outfit to carry it off.

“I think you’re the only person I know who’ll be able to carry off that color.”

Lula grins. “Damn right! Now, we’re getting ice cream, Tastykakes, pie, anything else?”

“Nah, I think that covers it.” For some reason, my stomach is already putting up a protest.

Lula looks at me oddly. “Really? You finally pass standards and can eat all the shit you want and you can’t think of anything else?”

I think shit is the operative word for my stomach. I’ve been bamboozled. Six months off my normal supply and my stomach protests too much sugar or fat. I actually enjoy salad now. It sucks.

I shrug. “I still have to pass monthly health checks from now on. I’m not going overboard my first time out.” I remember Thomas’s story of what happened to him. He’ll never understand how much that story means to me.

Lula stares at me for a moment then shrugs. “OK. Well, let’s get the goods.”

We set off toward the store entrance, but almost immediately, my spidey senses start ringing. I look around, looking for what’s causing the problem, which catches Lula’s attention.

“What’s up, White Girl?”

“I’m not sure.” I frown. “Something’s wrong. I can feel it.”

Lula looks at me, hands on hips. “I think you’re just paranoid. You spent too much time cooped up with them RangeMen that you see danger in every shadow. Ain’t nothing wrong that some ice cream won’t fix.”

Nah, my spidey senses are screaming for us to get out of the store. “No, Lula, something’s really wrong. Let’s get out of here.”

Lula pouts. “I ain’t going nowhere without at least getting some ice cream. You paranoid. Come on.” She tugs me toward frozen food. I keep looking, scanning for the threat. My senses are screaming for us to get out of there.

“Lula, I’m leaving. Something is wrong. I know it.” I walk out of the store, which shocks Lula enough to follow me.

“There better be a fucking problem because we leaving perfectly good—”

I see the problem. Thomas Mann. He starts shooting in our direction and I duck back inside the store, dragging Lula with me. I watch as Lula fires back at Thomas and he tosses a bottle inside Les’s car.

How? Oh shit. I forgot to raise the window on the passenger side after Lula got out of the car. I had the air on. Why did she let the window down?

Doesn’t matter now. The car explodes, setting off a chain reaction. Three more cars in the parking lot explode and I’m standing in the entrance of Stop and Shop, shaking my head.

I hear the sirens in the distance.

“Umph. Looks like you mighta called that one right, Steph. Imma hit the ShopRite and grab the goods. You know, before the cops get here. They gimme runs.” Lula hustles to her Firebird and takes off.

RangeMan training was supposed to prepare me for stuff like this but I still can’t believe it.

---

I’m watching Lester’s BMW burn. It’s the usual scene: Trenton PD is looking for witnesses, Trenton FD is putting the fire out, and the EMTs have shown up. Thankfully, there are no injuries so they leave quickly.

So did Lula.

I think my friendship with Lula is reaching a critical point. I’m sick of being left alone places just because of her dislike of cops. I’m glad she’s thinking of going back to school instead of bounty hunting. If she can’t stand to be around cops, that’s probably the best thing for her. After all, how does she expect to be a bounty hunter if she can’t stand being around them? It’s been four years. It’s time to get over that. Or at least let me know when she’s about to abandon me.

Well, OK, to be fair she did tell me she was leaving. I can’t hold that against her.

I hate acknowledging that Ranger had a point here. Lula is not a partner. Hector never would have done that. Hector would have faced down bullets before leaving me and I would do the same for him. Worse? Ranger’s point about Lula’s ‘indiscriminate shooting’. Not one of those bullets got anywhere near Thomas Mann, but I see bullet holes all over other people’s cars, including Les’s. What was the point of shooting? She would’ve been sick if she’d actually hit or killed him.

Ranger was right. Lula needs training. She’s not putting my license, Tank’s license, or Ranger’s license at risk anymore. I’m not taking her with me to hunt skips until she’s trained and licensed.

She’s still my best friend but this is ridiculous.

Carl and Big Dog walk over to me, grinning. Here’s something else I’m sick of. I put my new blank face into place and watch them get confused.

“Steph! Great to see you back in action. We’ve missed you. Pot’s gotten big since you started at RangeMan,” Big Dog says, smiling.

Silence. I’m getting more pissed off by the moment.

“Uhh …Steph, you OK?” Carl asks. Their smiles falter then fall.

“Who won the bet?”

They blink. “Jimmy Neeley.”

One of Joe’s friends. Good. “Tell Jimmy he has until 5PM to bring his winnings to the RangeMan building. I’m confiscating them, and put the word out: betting on my life ends today.”

They both look shocked. “Aw, come on Steph,” Big Dog whines, “you know it’s only in fun—”

“Until I die. Until I’m seriously injured. Tell me, Eddie, if I died in one of these ‘funny’ accidents, would you guys contribute the winnings of the pot to my funeral? Pay for flowers? Console my parents?”

Carl and Big Dog are shifting now, looking embarrassed. My cousin Eddie walks up behind me and pats my shoulder, looking solemn.

“No. Because I’m not a cop. I don’t get the cop benefits, but you guys benefit from betting on me. So, I’m calling in all bets, all markers. Bet on my life again and I file a civil complaint after I complain to Internal Affairs. It’s not funny and I don’t appreciate it. Remember: get the winnings to RangeMan by 5PM today.”

Carl and Big Dog nod and walk away. Eddie turns to stand in front of me.

“Good for you. Glad to see you finally put a stop to it.”

I’m shocked to hear him say that. “Why didn’t you, if it bothered you?”

“Because it’s your life. If you were OK allowing them to put such a low price tag on your life, who am I to stop it? Until you decided you had enough, they’d just ignore me.”

“You could have said something.”

“What good would it have done, Steph?” Eddie asks, irritated. “Until you were ready to stop it, anything I said or did would’ve been useless. If I told them to stop, then you laughed and joked about it the next time they showed up at the scene of one of your incidents, my warnings would’ve been ignored again. It’s the same reason Joe stopped trying to end the betting. You didn’t seem to give a damn, so how could we stop it?”

OK, maybe Hector and Ram were right when they said I don’t value my life. Here’s my cousin, one of the few cops I trust, telling me the same thing.

Eddie takes my statement and gives me a hug before walking away. I turn around and find Hal and Ram standing behind me. Shit!

Ram looks furious. Hal is white. This is not going to be a comfortable discussion.

“Why are we here?” Hal asks quietly. Yup, this is going to be a very very bad discussion for them.

“I have no idea,” I reply, glaring at him. “It was supposed to be a quick stop for ice cream and Tastykakes. And before either of you gets started, I’d like to remind you that I’m supposed to be offline.”

They both consider this. Hal’s face has a tiny bit of color again. I can see Ram starting to calm down, but he’s putting the cops in sniper crosshairs.

“Sorry, Steph. Forgot about that,” Hal says. He gives me a small smile. “Wow, first time past the gate without a guard and Lester is car-less.” He grins big. “Can I be on the line when you tell him?”

Ram hides a smile and I realize that this is the GTO incident all over again.

Time to make an uncomfortable call.

---

Lester’s POV

Tonight, we start teaching the men the fine points of ‘redecorating’. We have a contract for a nicely infested slum, and I’m going through the procedures when Bobby bursts through the door.

Bobby looks at Chester. “Get all Trenton RangeMen. NOW!”

Chez takes off out the door. I’m standing at attention, awaiting info when I realize that Bobby’s holding back laughter. He’s literally shaking with the effort.

“What happened?”

Tears are streaming down Bobby’s face. “No, man, this has to be shared.”

The Trenton RangeMen enter the room with all current RangeMen close behind. It’s packed now, standing room only. Bobby pipes his phone into the speakers.

“Bomber?”

“Bobby, will you please tell Les for me? I don’t wanna . . . am I on speaker?”

“Yup. Tank’s on the line too.”

“You suck, Bobby.”

“CO, what do you need to tell me?” I’m confused. What on earth has happened?

“Umm . . . Hi, Les! How’s the weather in Texas?”

“Fuck the weather, Steph. What’s going on? Bobby looks ready to shit himself laughing.”

“Oh God . . . how in the hell do I tell Les I blew up his BMW? I mean, I didn’t blow it up but it blew up . . . this is gonna be just like the GTO incident . . . he’ll never trust me with his cars again . . . then again, he did leave the car for me . . . he did say that he wished I’d blow one up . . .”

I’ve gone from standing to sitting to slumped forward with my head in my hands during Steph’s little stream-of-consciousness ramble. Every Trenton RangeMan is turning purple from the effort of not laughing. Bobby gave up. He left the room and I can hear him laugh from here. I look up and see the Trenton men leaving one by one, holding their mouths in an effort not to laugh until they leave the room.

I breathe and attempt to calm myself before I speak. Doesn’t work. “Steph?” My voice comes out at least an octave higher.

“Yes, Les?”

“Did my car blow up?”

“Umm . . . it’s having some mechanical problems right now.”

I hear Bobby and every man from RangeMan Trenton howling. Clearly, they have a three-way going. I look at my phone. Text from Tank: “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Asshole.

“Steph?”

“Yes?”

“Are those mechanical problems bomb related?” I can see the men around me begin to smile. They are beginning to understand why the CO is nicknamed ‘Bomber’ and ‘Bombshell’.

“Well, does a Molotov cocktail really count as a bomb?” I hear noise in the background. “Oh, well, I guess that’s a yes. Hal says incendiary devices count as bombs.”

More laughter from down the hall. I can’t decide whether I want to laugh or cry. I figure the tears running down my face right now can be played off as tears of laughter. If I need to later.

“Who set the incendiary, Steph?”

“Thomas Mann. He just got out of jail.” He’s a dead man.

“OK, Steph, walk me through what happened.” I’m sitting now, wiping my face with my hankie. This is gonna be a doozy.

“Well, me and Lula,”—how did I know Lula was going to be involved?—”decided to hit the Stop and Shop and grab some ice cream and Tastykakes for a Law & Order marathon. Oh, and to celebrate me passing standards. Anyway, I didn’t want to take a RangeMan vehicle out on my first trip alone so I grabbed your keys. I have to say Les, it is . . . umm . . . it was a really nice car.”

I’m just shaking my head at this point. I hear more laughter down the hall.

“What model was it?”

“750Li, Steph.”

“Is that a big tax break, Les?”

“Oh, yeah. Filing it under business expenses, Steph.” More laughter. The men in the room are starting to chuckle quietly.

“Give me a ball park estimate here. Are we talking liaison level tax break? Less? Please say that we are talking less.”

I’m silent. I know she’ll feel guilty no matter what I tell her. “Steph, no matter what number I give you, you’ll feel guilty. Are you OK? You and Lula have any injuries?”

“Nope, I’m fine. Lula’s cop allergy kicked in. Hal and Ram looked ready to kill me before I reminded them that it was my first time getting to be offline.”

“Hey, we weren’t going to kill you,” Hal says. “We’ve never done that. We were worried, alright? I’m sorry. I was worried about you. I forgot you were offline. I just panicked when I saw Lester’s dot disappear. Normally Lester’s dot disappears and he reappears with a shit-eating grin and a story you only read about in Penthouse.”

“You read Penthouse, Hal?”

“Only for the articles, Sis.” I’m ready to piss myself laughing at that. “Anyway, the car dot meant something different this time and we panicked. We were relieved to see you were OK.”

Bobby’s gonna have a headache later. Now all the men are trying not to laugh. My phone beeps and I read the message.

“Hal, I can see that we’re not quite done with your education. Tank says to tell you that you read the articles in Playboy and use Penthouse for spank material. Having seen pictures of your girlfriend, I think you can let your subscription on both magazines expire. Now Steph, walk me through what happened. So, you and Lula went for ice cream, for which you’ll do an extra two hours of running tomorrow . . . OK, then what?”

“I didn’t get to eat the ice cream, so no running for me. Anyway, we hit the Stop and Shop and my spidey senses started going and I told Lula ‘Let’s get out of here’. I kept scanning for a threat—”

“Good job with the lingo, Steph,” says Ram.

“Thanks! Anyway, I’m scanning for a threat but I don’t see one. I hustle Lula out the store just in time to see Thomas Mann toss a Molotov through the passenger window. Lula left it down and I didn’t realize. Anyway, you know how this story ends. I hit the ground, Lula fires at Thomas, the car goes BOOM!, the cops show up, Lula disappears, RangeMan shows up to see if I’m still in one piece. Same as usual, Les.”

I’m laughing. Down the hall the men are howling again.

RangeMan training hasn’t affected her luck.

Steph.

The one and only.

Finally, I wipe my eyes. “Steph? You OK, Beautiful? Are you sure you’re fine?”

“Yup. Ram is stopping to get me a cone, so I’m happy again, but I’m sorry about your car, Les. I’m assuming I shouldn’t look for the Range Rover keys?”

Gracias a Dios! I’m glad I drove it here. “Nope. Range Rover’s here in Texas with me.”

“Oh. I guess this means I get to drive one of Ranger’s cars the next time I want to get away.” Silence on the line but howls of laughter down the hall. “Then again, I looked up the prices on his cars. I think not.”

I’m shaking my head. The men are all smiling. Bobby rejoins us. He takes a swig of tequila and toasts in my direction. I flip him a finger and shake my head. Steph is good for the soul.

“Well, Beautiful, remember: People are more important than things. You could blow up that Beemer every day of the week as long as you were OK.”

“Les, if I blew up seven Beemers, you’d have me committed. Or wrapped in bubble wrap. Probably both. Ranger would never let me go anywhere.”

I’m chuckling. No, not true. We’d let her go places. Just not without us.

We’ve looked into getting her license revoked.

---

Ranger’s POV

Hector texts to say he picked up my ‘Congratulations’ gift. I’m nervous about how she’ll respond to it. I still don’t think it’s good enough for her, but I went for sentimental over, well, over flashy. The note is handwritten and sealed. I had to hunt for the right thing to say.

This has been a shitty week for intel, so the surprise text from Tank, telling me to be quiet and simply listen, provided much needed stress relief.

That’s my Babe. My gift is coming right on time.

I need to get Hal a few subscriptions to some really trashy magazines. The boy was reading Penthouse? Jesus Christ . . .

Les will cry later. I’ll send him a BMW keychain, just to fuck with him.

Then I’ll order the Aston Martin. He’s earned it.

---

Steph’s POV

We finish our ice cream cones and head back to the building. Once there, I climb out of the SUV and stop dead in the garage.

There’s a brand new Mazda Miata in the garage, complete with a big red bow. It’s blue, not black. Hector grins and hands me a note and car keys.

All my life, my heart has yearned for a thing I cannot name.

Te amo y estoy orgullosa de ti, Babe. Felicidades.
I love you and I’m proud of you, Babe. Congrats.

I look at the note and the car and I start crying. It’s perfect. He gave me words. He gave me the right words. And he put them on paper, on something I can see and hold.

Instead of getting me an expensive car that I would be nervous to drive (and would give everyone in the ‘Burg something to gossip over), he got me a Miata. He remembered me telling him about how much I hated losing my Miata and he got me a car that was right for me.

I sense someone walk off and I’m enveloped in a set of arms. Hector. He hands me a handkerchief and rubs my back until I calm down.

“You understand?” he whispers. I nod. “Good. This is Ranger speaking. The words might be wrong, but the action will be right.”

I nod. Yes, but I want the words too. I peek at the note. It’s the first time any man has ever written ‘I love you’ on anything for me. I have proof that Ranger gave me the right words. The right words and the right action.

I smile. He got it right.

---

Two hours later I’m still angry. I’ve been pacing around 7, trying to figure out how I want to address this. I decide to chance my horrible luck and drive my new car. Ram, Hal and Hector pale. I sigh.

“Any trackers on it yet?”

Ram nods. “Hector checked with Al. He installed them after he painted it.”

I frown. “Painted it?”

Hector smiles. “El Miata no viene en azul como un color de pintura estándar. Ranger especial ordenó. Su coche era negro. Es también tenía todas las protecciones RANGEMAN estándar.” (The Miata doesn’t come in blue as a standard paint color. Ranger special ordered it. Your car was black. It’s also had all the standard RangeMan protections put on.) Hal translates and I raise an eyebrow. Hector shakes his head and smiles. “No. Todos modos, imprimación anti-bomba, revestimiento de armadura, ventanas inastillables tintados, dispositivos de rastreo. Las obras.” (Nah. Anyway, anti-bomb undercoating, armor cladding, tinted shatterproof windows, tracking devices. The works.)

I nod. Ram sighs. “OK, Steph, where you headed?”

“Lula’s. Time for us to have a talk.”

“¿Es esta la charla donde usted rasga su culo un nuevo para usted dejar en la escena de un incidente?” (Is this the talk where you rip her a new asshole for leaving you at the scene of an incident?) Hector mutters. Ram translates and I nod.

“Sí.”

Everyone’s eyebrows rise but I nod. “I’m sick of it. I realized that you would never do that to me. I wouldn’t do it to you. She left me after causing a disaster. Time for us to have a serious talk.”

Ram translates and Hector grins. “Luego tome todo el tiempo que necesite.” (Then take all the time you need).

I nod. “Also, Jimmy Neeley needs to have the winnings from the Cop Pot here by 5PM. Late is not acceptable. If it’s not here, I file a complaint.”

I stand and pick up my purse. The guys are grinning. “Nice to see you lay down the law when it comes to protecting your life, Sis,” Hal says, beaming.

“Ranger would never allow anyone to make him into a joke. I’ve allowed it. Time to demand my respect. I’m armed, I’m trained, and I’m sick of this. Time for some people to learn that the Stephanie they’re dealing with now isn’t the same woman they’ve always known.”

I walk down to the garage and slide into my new car. 20 miles on the odometer. It’s so new it has factory smell. I wave at the guys and pull off.

---

A/N: Just to be clear: The guys are not laughing at Steph or the fact that she blew up Les’s car. They are laughing at the fact that even after all the RangeMan training, Steph’s luck, especially with cars, is still really really bad.