Chapter Two
Candy parked her car on the third floor of the garage to the National Intelligence Building where she worked. Shit, she had needed to get out of Tumbel’s office fast. Never in her life had her body reacted to a man the way it had to his. And he was fully dressed and not even clean shaven. But those eyes. That face. Lord have mercy.
He was fucking gorgeous. Drop-dead-with-a-side-of-beard-and-bedroom-eyes-that-made-her-knees-weak gorgeous. Her body shuddered. She needed to get a hold of herself. He was just a dumb male. Stupid, pain-in-the-ass, piece of shit like all of them. Bitter much? She snorted to herself. She definitely had a reason to feel that way with all she’d been through in her life.
Looking up as she exited the garage, she saw the helicopter sitting on the rooftop pad of the National Intelligence Building. That meant the NIA director was already there for the ceremony even though it didn’t start for an hour. Maybe he was working late, too. That would be a first. Damn, she needed to shake off this negativity. She wasn’t usually like this.
It was this damn assignment she’d been given. She was responsible for researching and digging into the workings of each department to find their mistakes, cover ups, and secrets. Then anyone deemed less than perfect, she had to inform they were out of a job. Even if the organization was well run like this ALFA group she just visited. A few issues could shut them down.
In the alleyway between the parking garage and building, she saw the catering truck for the ceremony being inspected by two of her four men in outside security. Even though this event was quite low on the terrorist-attack priority list, she insisted everything be checked before strangers were let in.
This habit was a throwback to her time in the field. She’d spent years in Afghanistan and other sandy countries fighting to keep this country’s freedom so those who wanted to complain, protest, and burn the flag could have their opportunity. Land of the free and home of the brave. Got that damn right.
She never regretted her choice of joining the military at eighteen. Running away and enlisting probably saved her life. Candy just wished her mother had had a choice. In a handful of years, she would be able to retire with full benefits after twenty years of putting up with sexual harassment, bullying, and men’s shit in general. She felt like she was going on sixty instead of thirty-eight.
She shook her head, wanting this slow building anger and resentment to go away. This was how it was lately. She was losing the last shreds of patience necessary to deal with her line of work. Who pissed in her Cheerios this morning? Speaking of food, that was one good thing about the event tonight. There would be munchies and drinks. No alcoholic beverages, her order, but punch and tea were acceptable. She was not babysitting a bunch of drunks on the job this evening. Her job was to make sure security was staffed and ready to go.
This was her building. She knew it inside and out. Every door, every hall, every hidden passage. Built in the 1950s along with many other structures in DC after World War II, the building design was simple and a pain in the ass to update with technology. Made mostly of concrete, each floor had to be drilled through to run new wires and pipes. Replacing the old sprinkler system a few years ago nearly brought down the lobby ceiling. That was fun. They had to reinforce the wide expanse with I beams and supports.
But despite that, the building was solid as a rock. The windows were fitted with electromagnetic shields so inside communications couldn’t be intercepted outside, and the halls were somewhat of a zigzag maze to cut off any radio transmissions within. She’d miss this place when they moved into their new offices currently under construction.
She was proud of her contribution to the new NIA building. Because of her efforts in security, the new facility would have its own power plant, phone/Wi-Fi system, and police force to handle situations with classified information. She laughed when she found out the place wouldn’t have an address, but did have its own zip code. How silly was that? It wasn’t like they were hiding where they were. Shit, Google had the building on their maps. When it came to the government, who knew what all they would do.
After entering the front doors, she used her badge to bypass the metal detectors, also a retrofit, but before her time. As she walked toward the back of the lobby, Candy had to weave around tables and chairs set up for the show. New plants had been brought in to attempt to warm the harsh concrete walls. Nice try, but they’d need a jungle for that to happen.
She passed the elevators on both sides of the aisle, then the stairwell that led from the roof to the tunnels connecting all of DC underground. Hurrying down a narrow, mostly hidden hallway at the far end of the building, Candy made her way to the security door and punched in the code to access the inside.
As the door opened, her men came to attention and saluted. She returned the salute. “At ease.” Her eyes skimmed over the multitude of small monitor screens, each showing a different shot of the interior and exterior. “Did I miss anything good while I was out?”
Her group of guys were great to work with. They had a camaraderie rarely found in military circles. That was only because she allowed that to happen. Candy could chew someone a new asshole, if needed, but she would give her life to protect her men.
“No, Sergeant Major. Just folks decorating and the regulars coming and going. The caterers pulled up not too long ago,” said Dotson, seated in front of the monitors.
“I saw our guys checking out the truck. Good job on making sure that happened, Dotson,” she said.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
She ran a tight, clean ship, even though the “ship” was practically the size of a broom closet. Another “make do with.” When upgrading the security system, the old office had become too small to house everything required. So it was moved to the side of the elevators and stairs where a janitor’s closet had been expanded to include the small office space behind it. The room had an exterior door and secret stairwell to the tunnels that the other didn’t, so that was a perk.
“Nice and boring,” she said. “Just how I like it.” She lightly slapped her hand against Dotson’s shoulder. “Carry on, Dotson. I’ll be in my office until this damn thing starts. Call if something doesn’t go as planned.”
He smiled, stood, and saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”
She saluted and walked out the thick metal door. With a sigh, she pushed on the door to the stairwell and climbed to the next floor. She could take the elevator, but what was the point? By the time she waited for it, she’d already be on the second floor and down the hall to the last office, hers.
She plopped into the chair behind her desk and pivoted to look out the back window. They were blessed with a park behind the building so she could watch owners walking their pets, and parents with their kids, playing. A cute little family happened to be on the grass. A small pain tinged her heart. She told herself, again, that she wasn’t family or mom material. Her temper was well known. She was best on her own. Alone. It didn’t matter that others had told her once she had a baby she’d fall in love. Not like she had anyone to have babies with anyway. Besides, her busy lifestyle only allowed for her to be single. Busy? Whatever.
The family in the park looked so happy, talking and laughing. And they had a wiener dog. How adorable. Now she was a puddle. She’d always wanted a dog, but her father had killed the stray she’d brought home as a child, and after that, she didn’t have the heart.
Watching a dog being kicked and beaten to death had destroyed something inside her. She couldn’t stand by and see that again. Even now that she lived alone, she couldn’t think of getting a dog and watching the animal age and have to be put to sleep.
Candy popped to her feet, automatically pushing away memories of her past. She’d become good at doing that. And a little action on the front lines of the battlefield helped take her mind off home.
At the side window that looked over the alley separating the garage and building, she saw the caterers loading rolling carts with goodies. At least she wouldn’t have to cook tonight. If you called spaghetti with hot dogs and a salad cooking.
She found her chair again, sat back and stared at the white sofa and gas fireplace opposite the side window. A crocheted blanket in the design of Old Glory draped over the sofa. With red and blue throw pillows, it looked like someone had barfed up patriotism all over the floor. The whole ensemble had been here when she’d taken the office, and she’d liked it, so she’d kept it.
And a fireplace in an office. Really? One time last winter, she turned it on to see if it worked. Lo and behold, it did. It was kind of nice to have a fire going when the wind chill was twenty below zero outside. She’d never had a fireplace at any place she’d lived. Surprising how homey it felt.
Candy slapped a hand on her desk and laughed at herself. Several minutes ago, she was feeling like the biggest bitch the world had ever seen and now she was mushy over burning wood. “Crazy” did come to mind, but that was silly. She was a soldier, and soldiers didn’t have issues like that, no matter how bad the past had been.