Operation: Recruited Angel (Shepherd Security Book 2) Page 3

  Lambchop nodded.

  “Wait, a DEA case! And I’m not assigned?” Garcia argued. He was former DEA and over the years any and all cases that partnered with the DEA, he led. Always.

  “Mission assignments will not be discussed. You have your orders, gentlemen,” Shepherd said firmly, obviously dismissing them.

  Garcia slammed the lid of his tablet down and stood. Cooper came up beside him, blocking his hasty retreat. “Hang back.”

  Jackson closed the door behind himself after a quick glance at Garcia. He was the last to leave.

  Garcia threw his hands in the air. “What the fuck?”

  “If we are successful in getting this asshole, DEA thinks you may need to reprise the role of your prior DEA deep cover persona, the infamous drug-dealing motorcycle gang leader Razor, as a prisoner to get info from this guy. It’s Juan Carlos. They said that name would mean something to you,” Shepherd said.

  “Sonofabitch!” Garcia exploded. Yeah, it sure did. “A year and a half I was under as that gang-leader-scumbag. That was one of the reasons I left the DEA and came to work for you, that whole case.”

  Shepherd nodded. He knew. Garcia had nearly lost himself to that persona. Doctor Joe Lassiter, the team shrink, worked extensively with Garcia to bring his head back to where it needed to be after that mission was over and he was with Shepherd’s team.

  “Anything you can remember about this guy, pass it on to Lambchop,” Shepherd said.

  Garcia nodded.

  “And start to wrap your mind around that persona so you can slip back in, if need be,” Cooper added.

  Garcia nodded again, this time a scowl accompanied the hand that got dragged through his short-clipped hair. He was not pleased about this one bit. That was one identity he didn’t ever want to revisit.

  “And make the female Operator search a priority. Let me know when you have found someone,” Shepherd ordered. His tone was dismissive.

  Garcia nodded and hurried from the room.

  Jackson rushed ahead of the others after they left Shepherd’s office. He found Angel in the kitchen. She was making herself a cup of herbal tea.

  “Hey, babe,” he greeted as he wrapped her in an embrace from behind, his hand coming to rest on her abdomen. It still humbled and utterly astounded him that his child was inside her. It had not been planned, but they were both ecstatic it had happened.

  She nestled against his strong body, enjoying the sensation of his hard chest behind her. “Hi yourself. Is your meeting over already?”

  “Yeah, and Angel,” he began as the two other men burst into the room. “Our secret is out,” he whispered.

  She turned her head to see Doc and Lambchop coming towards them with big smiles on their faces.

  “Congratulations, Angel,” they both greeted.

  “Jackson,” she moaned.

  “Not me, babe.” He made the locked lip gesture.

  “We figured it out ourselves,” Doc said as he pushed Jackson away and gripped her in a bear hug. “Shepherd will want to congratulate you himself when the rest of the meeting breaks up. He’s not happy you didn’t tell him.”

  As they separated from their hug, Angel’s hand found its way to her lower abdomen. “I didn’t want to jinx it, until you know, I’m far enough along to be sure nothing is going to happen.”

  “Angel, honey, no one’s going to punch you in the stomach. I know the OB has classified you as high risk, because of the previous miscarriage, but you’ll be fine,” Doc said confidently.

  Lambchop squirmed his large form in between them and gave Angel a hug as well. She was dwarfed by him. “Congrats, little momma! I’ve never performed a baptism on a newborn, please let me have the honor when the time comes,” he said with a smile.

  “You better believe it,” Angel guaranteed him, with an equally strong embrace. Officiating their wedding had been a first for the pastor as well.

  Garcia charged up the stairs, two at a time. He went straight to his office on the eighth floor and sat down to program the algorithm that would search LinkedIn for a female Operative. A full Operator profile would be hard to fill outside of the military, especially with a female, an attractive female even harder. Only after he got it programmed and running, did he remember Angel and Jackson and the confirmation of the pregnancy.

  “Oh, shit,” he moaned aloud.

  The news that he may be going back under cover as the motorcycle gang-leader in some form or fashion had really rocked him. He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep draw of air, quieting his mind. Then he forced himself to his feet to find Angel to congratulate her too. He had been the best man at their wedding. He was hoping that would give him Godfather status to their baby as well.

  At Friday’s staff meeting, the men again settled into their chairs. It was just Shepherd, Cooper, Doc, Jackson, and Garcia this time. The first business they covered was an update from Lambchop on the Compton Taskforce. Juan Carlos had so far been elusive. Wherever he was, he was dug in and hiding. They conducted a couple of raids with the DEA but so far garnered no information leading them to their target’s whereabouts.

  Cooper then addressed Garcia. “How’s the female Operator search going?”

  “I’ve got something,” Garcia said, glancing up from his laptop, “or someone, rather.” He clicked a few more keys, his eyes focused on the screen.

  “You plan on sharing that, son?” Shepherd asked after several silent beats.

  “Yeah, sorry,” Garcia mumbled.

  He clicked a few more times and his laptop screen appeared on the large wall monitor. A beautiful woman with long, blond ringlets on her driver’s license picture appeared on the left. Her Army ID picture with her hair secured in a bun showed on the right. She had a flawless, tanned complexion, perfect feminine features, and piercing blue eyes. Her bio filled the remainder of the screen.

  “Meet Madison Miller, former Army Intelligence Officer, graduated top of her class from OCS Fort Benning, served eight years, speaks and reads four languages and has a master’s degree in Political Science. She separated two years ago, currently wasting her skills as a manager at a biotech company. She was recruited heavily by all intelligence agencies when she got out but declined them all. She is an Illinois resident, has her conceal carry license, a black belt in karate, and I think I’m in love,” Garcia said with a playful smile. “She’s perfect.”

  “To hire or date, asshole?” Shepherd barked.

  Garcia chuckled. “For the team.”

  “She shot everyone else down. What makes you think we can get her?” Cooper asked Garcia.

  “Two years of regular job boredom had to set in by now. Besides, we’re neither regular military nor your garden variety intelligence agency,” Garcia replied.

  Cooper and Shepherd exchanged looks. “Get her in here for an interview,” Shepherd said. Then he turned his attention back to Garcia. “That’s it, only one match?”

  “Well there was one more, former Army as well, but she’s more manly than I am. For the Van Joosten case, hell, for any case requiring a female you may as well put a wig on Cooper or Jackson.” Garcia clicked the keyboard a few more times, Madison Miller’s picture was replaced by a hard-looking woman with no feminine features whatsoever.

  “Shit get that off the screen,” Jackson moaned. “She looks like Arnold Schwarzenegger in drag.”

  “No, I think Schwarzenegger would look better in drag than she does,” Doc added with a laugh.

  “Yeah, there’s no way she will work with either case we have,” Shepherd agreed. “We pursue Miller.”

  Charlie

  Madison Miller picked out a black pantsuit for the interview, not even sure why she was going on it. She hadn’t been looking for a new job. She collected her curly tresses into a low bun at the nape of her neck, chuckling at herself. That was how she had always worn it when she was on duty. Old habits die hard, she guessed. She slid on a silky light-blue blouse over her favorite bra and panty set. No reason not to feel feminine
. Then she drove to the address she had been given.

  Madison pushed through the heavy black door with the gold lettering that said Shepherd Security. It was one of many black doors on the fifth floor of the large, ten story office building. The outer office resembled more of a small waiting room of a doctor’s office. A receptionist sat behind a glass half-wall to the right. A dozen chairs lined the walls to the left. A door which she assumed led into the inner offices, was directly across from her.

  She stepped up to the receptionist, who slid the heavy glass window open as she approached. “Hi,” Madison greeted with a professional smile. “I’m Madison Miller. I have a ten o’clock appointment with Mr. Sam Shepherd.”

  The receptionist smiled a warm grin. She was a pretty woman who appeared to be around her same age. Her thick, black hair was piled in a messy bun on top of her head. Her smile was genuine, and her brown eyes focused on Madison’s.

  “Hello, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Angel. We spoke on the phone when I scheduled your appointment. Please have a seat. I will let the team know you’re here. It should only be a minute or two until they’re ready.”

  Madison smiled politely and sat herself with a clear view of both doors, another habit that didn’t stop with the end of her service. Madison never put her back to a door if she could help it. A few minutes later Angel opened the inner door and called her in. Angel led her across the inner hallway and opened the closed door, motioning her to enter.

  “Good luck,” Angel whispered with a conspiratorial smile.

  Madison stepped inside and heard the door close behind her. Her eyes swept over the five men who sat around the conference room table. They all rose except the man closest to her, on her right side. He wheeled his chair out from behind the table and then extended a trunk of an arm towards her. Beneath his suit jacket his shirt clung to his broad chest. Though confined to a wheel chair, this man was built rock-solid. His legs even appeared to be normal sized, not shrunken. He hadn’t been in the chair very long.

  “Hello, I’m Sam Shepherd,” he greeted with a reserved smile forming on his attractive, clean-shaven face. “Thank you for coming in to talk with us today.”

  She took his hand in a firm shake of her own and projected her most professional smile. “Thank you for extending the invitation.”

  “My colleagues,” Shepherd said motioning to the men who now stood in a half-circle in front of them. “My number two in charge, John Cooper.” He paused as they greeted each other and shook hands. “Ethan Jackson,” he introduced the man with the nicely trimmed, dark brown beard and mustache who stood beside Cooper.

  She nodded her head while shaking his hand, “Ethan,” she said.

  “It’s just Jackson,” he corrected her.

  She smiled politely.

  “Anthony Garcia,” Garcia introduced himself. She didn’t repeat his name.

  “And Alexander Williams, but he goes by Doc,” Shepherd said concluding the introductions.

  They took their seats and Madison waited as they all flipped open rugged, field-rated laptops, which sat in front of each of them. They clicked a few keys, and she watched each set of eyes scan their screen.

  While she waited, she sized up each of these men. Shepherd was the oldest of the five of them, with experience lines etched by his eyes and bracketing his lips. His hair was jet black and clipped short. Doc was younger, but not by much. His short, dark blond hair had gray generously speckled in. Cooper had close trimmed blonde hair. He appeared solid, and she judged he was about the same age as Garcia, who wore his hair in a flattop, the sides shaved close. Jackson was the youngest of the group.

  She was sure they all had military backgrounds. She could just tell. And they had all seen action. They all wore suit jackets or sports coats and she was sure they were all carrying beneath them. She wished she hadn’t left her 9 mm in the car. That was the first feeling she had that something wasn’t right. Her instincts instantly went on alert.

  “Uh-hem,” Shepherd cleared his throat. “So, we reached out to you for today’s interview after conducting an extensive search to fill the position of Special Projects Coordinator in our organization. The person who fills this position will be an integral member of our team and work very closely with all assembled. That is why we decided to have this meeting take place with all present.”

  Madison smiled politely and nodded. Panel interviews weren’t uncommon. She made a note on her open portfolio to ask why the position was open. She assumed there would be the standard time allotted for her questions at the end of the interview. It started out with the standard interview questions. Cooper turned the conversation to her military service and her security clearance just a few minutes in. That was when the first red flag raised itself.

  “Because of the nature of the work we do with the Defense Department you will need to undergo a background check and re-qualify for your security clearance. Is that a problem?” Cooper asked staring through her.

  “Not in the least,” Madison replied with the confidence she felt. She seriously doubted the top security clearance she held while in the Army would be needed for a civilian job.

  “This is a salaried position that does require long hours when we are active on a case and may require some travel with little notice,” Shepherd then said. “You will be compensated with additional time off when we are in a lull. Will that be a problem?”

  Madison’s eyes stared intently at Shepherd. A second red flag was waving at her. “I realize this is a salaried position, and that does often require additional hours. It’s a problem if that’s the norm with little down-time in between the action.” She phrased it that way on purpose, watching Shepherd for his reaction.

  The corners of his lips ticked upward. “The work we do is important. We try to maintain a work-life balance, but sometimes it will seem the scales are tipped to work. We have a very competitive time off package that most find tip the scales back the other direction.”

  Now the corners of Madison’s lips tugged upward. “And what would that package be?”

  “We give you thirty days PTO per year plus the standard holidays, provided we are not in the middle of an active case when the holiday falls,” Shepherd replied.

  And there went red flag number three waving with frenzied insistence over Shepherd’s head. Thirty days, just like the military. She doubted that was a coincidence. She could almost hear herself reciting the oath again. I, state your name, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic. Oh, hell no!

  “You are also required to obtain and maintain a license to carry concealed. Is that something you can qualify for?” Cooper asked.

  With that question, the last red flag raised high into position beside the American flag in the corner of the room that was surrounded with the flags of every branch of the service. “Let’s cut through the shit, shall we?” Madison said abruptly. “I don’t doubt for a second that you already know everything about me, including that I do have my CCW. And you probably even know the caliber of every weapon I have licensed in the state of Illinois. Hell, I’m sure you even know about the ones I don’t have licensed, too.” She shot to her feet. She was done with this sham. “Private security firm, my ass.”

  Shepherd rolled in front of her blocking her exit as she stepped towards the door. “I’ll have to ask you to retake your seat, Miss Miller.”

  “Are you freaking kidding me?” She demanded. “You’re going to stop me from leaving?”

  “You doubt I can?” Shepherd asked. He hated that the chair made him seem weak.

  “Like you had to get in front of me to stop me? I noticed the remote locking mechanism on the door when I came in, so I’m sure you could have triggered it from where you were to keep me in this room, if the door isn’t already locked, that is. And you were close enough to me with your long arms, all you had to do was reach out and grab my arm to stop me, but instead you get in front of me to try to
intimidate me. And if that didn’t work you could have pulled the piece you’re carrying in the holster under your left arm. Sorry, Mr. Shepherd, this girl isn’t intimidated, now please get out of my way. This interview is over. I’m not interested.”

  Shepherd’s lips spread into a wide smile. “You don’t even know the offer.”

  “Look, I know Operators when I see them,” she said. Her eyes swept over the five men. “And every last one of you are Operators. I can see it in your eyes and in how you move. You’re all packing underneath those uncomfortable sports coats that you’re not used to wearing, and quite frankly I’m not down with this ambush I walked into.”

  “I am sorry for the dishonest nature of this interview,” Shepherd said. “If I had been aboveboard, I doubt you would have come in.”