Anna
Being the assistant to the illustrious owner of Jameson Force Security means I do pretty much anything he needs.
Some days, I’m helping to plan a mission by organizing binders and pulling strategic topographical maps, scouting lodging accommodations or arranging meetings with military colonels.
Other days, it means buying party decorations.
I didn’t begrudge being a party planner today, because this is a well-deserved celebration.
Bebe Grimshaw got a pardon for her crimes, and her record has been officially expunged. If that’s not reason for a party, I don’t know what is.
It goes without saying Bebe is perhaps the most interesting woman I’ve ever known. She spent seven years of a thirty-five-year sentence in prison for a crime she absolutely committed. When I first came to work for Jameson, I was shocked to learn Bebe had conspired against the United States to hack our defense systems and steal nuclear launch codes, which were going to be sold to a foreign enemy.
Appalling, I know, but when I learned the story, it was totally understandable. Bebe is a brilliant tech genius. She had done some low-level black-hat hacking when she was in college to make ends meet when she’d gotten pregnant and promptly deserted by the baby daddy.
Then she got in too deep and couldn’t get out. A Russian mobster owned her—keeping the threat of killing her son, Aaron, and her mom, Gloria, hanging over her head so she’d do his dirty work. She was forced to do his bidding until he wanted her to steal the nuclear codes. It was then she knew she had a duty to not only protect her family, but her country as well.
Bebe intentionally got caught, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for the government to find her easily enough. It foiled the hacking plot, saved the country, and sent her to prison.
Of course, all’s well that ends well, because Kynan heard about her extraordinary talents and knew they could be used for good. He worked his contacts within the government to get her released from prison, and she’s been a happy and productive member of Jameson—fighting against the forces of evil—ever since.
Now, it was Bebe who earned the pardon and expungement, because, just last month, she worked with the government to bring down that same Russian mobster who was on the FBI’s most-wanted list.
Tonight… we party and celebrate her successes and heroism.
My mom is keeping Avery for the evening. I have Uber on my phone, so I’m going to drink, eat, and be merry with my Jameson teammates. It’s the first happy occasion we’ve had in a while to get most everyone here who isn’t off on an active mission together.
Kynan put me in charge of planning the party, telling me I had carte blanche to do whatever I wanted. The first thing I did was ask Bebe what she wanted, it being her party and all.
I suggested fancy restaurants in Pittsburgh or a shindig to be held at Kynan’s house, but Bebe wanted it here… at Jameson. It was symbolic to her of just how far she’d come and how devoted she was to the people here.
I decided the second floor was the best place to have it since most of the floor plan was open space with some scattered furniture between the desks on one end and the couches and chairs on the other. I’d rented some additional tables for seating and a caterer to provide food that wasn’t hoity-toity… but wasn’t meatballs and pigs in a blanket.
For a second, I wasn’t sure if I went too far, so I had to verify my plans with Kynan, but he eventually gave me the go-ahead and boom… we had a bartender with an open bar.
I spent today decorating, hanging Chinese lanterns and streamers from the industrial ductwork and pipes overhead, moving the ten-foot ladder among the desks and generally making a pain-in-the-ass of myself during the workday. After his meeting with Corinne, Malik came to my rescue and ordered me off the ladder.
I tried to argue with him, but it turns out he’s incredibly stubborn and a bit of a sexist by having the temerity to think I couldn’t hang decorations from a ladder, but I ultimately gave in to him. It was easier than arguing.
Everyone seems to be here now, and the festivities are lively. As the person in charge of managing all the employee files, I can affirm Jameson employs a total of sixty-eight people between the Vegas and Pittsburgh offices. Of course, the folks in Vegas couldn’t come for this party, and several of our agents are out on active assignments, but there are easily at least a hundred and fifty people here tonight as family members were invited to attend.
I see Kynan move through the crowd toward Bebe, who’s standing with her new beau, Griff, her son, Aaron, and her mom, Gloria. He says something to her, and she shakes her head adamantly. She even attempts to move closer to Griff, as if she needs his protection from the dastardly owner of Jameson.
Kynan smirks, takes her by the elbow, and leads her away right to the floating staircase leading upward through the rest of the four floors. He pulls her about halfway up until they can be seen by the crowd.
Chatter starts to die down as people see Kynan with Bebe by him, and it’s clear he’s going to make some type of speech.
“Hey,” I hear from beside me. I jump, startled, then smile at Malik as he casually holds a beer in his hand. “Some party.”
“I’m glad you came,” I say, bumping my shoulder against his. “I know crowds aren’t your thing.”
“Meaningless drivel of conversation’s not my thing,” he corrects me. “Just greater chance of finding it at a large event like this.”
“Noted,” I reply with a laugh.
Kynan holds his hands up, someone gives a wolf whistle, and everyone quiets. He looks out over his domain—his people—and there’s pride etched on his face.
“Okay, everyone,” he calls out over the last few people who don’t realize a speech is forthcoming. “Pipe down for about two minutes, then you can go back to all of this wonderful food and liquor I’m providing for you.”
Everyone moves in a little closer, circling around the base of the stairs to be able to hear.
“As you all know,” Kynan announces imperiously. “We’re here tonight to celebrate this woman beside me.”
Kynan is clearly enjoying the limelight while Bebe looks like she wants to melt into the floor. While she’s the sweetest, nicest woman ever, she’s also a bit of an introvert, perhaps given all her years locked away.
“Bebe doesn’t like me drawing attention to her, and I promised I wouldn’t make her give a speech, so let me just ask all of you standing here to raise your glasses to toast this woman.”
Everyone does as asked, beers, wine, and highballs rising high into the air.
“I could give you story after story of how Bebe has masterfully managed to take down the bad guys. She’s what I would call the heart and breath of this organization, and her innovation and determination are unparalleled. The world became a better place—certainly safer—when she came to join us. And so, it’s my great pleasure to announce that today, President Alexander signed a presidential pardon for Bebe as well as ordered her entire record to be expunged. It’s definitely a big deal… one we are all honored to celebrate with our Bebe. She wore her conviction like a badge of honor, and everyone in this room knows it was with the utmost integrity she took the fall for her crimes in order to save her country. It’s the highest order of heroism, and we both spoke via speakerphone with President Alexander this morning as he was signing the pardon, and he made sure Bebe understood our country was indebted to her for her actions.”
It’s at this moment Kynan risks a glance at Bebe, who is no longer blushing but actively crying. It stuns Kynan as he takes her in—tears streaming down her face as she listens to him.
He wisely decides to wrap it up. “So, let’s everyone toast to Bebe’s pardon, proclaiming our gratitude that she belongs to us, and well… everyone, let’s just have a great time tonight.”
Everyone yells and cheers. Kynan grabs Bebe and gives her a hard hug, then releases her so she can melt down the staircase and disappear into Griff’s arms.
“You’re crying,” Malik observes, tipping his head to look at my face.
I hadn’t realized it, and I brush the back of my hand across a wet cheek. “It’s just so wonderful, right?”
“Right,” he replies. He puts his arm around my shoulder, giving me a slight squeeze. I take a moment to lean my head against his shoulder before we break apart.
There was nothing awkward about it, either. Just a second where I got emotional, he acknowledged it without making a big deal or making me feel stupid about it, and then it was over.
“Want to get some food?” Malik suggests.
“Sure,” I reply, following him through the crowd to the buffet tables the caterers had set up.
There’s a short line, and we file in behind Cruce Britton. He glances over his shoulder at us, smiling brightly.
Turning, he holds his hand out to Malik, who takes it for a short pump. “Hey, man… good to see you back here.”
“Thanks,” Malik replies. “Good to be back.”
It’s strange in a way how even though Malik has technically been a member of Jameson for over six months, he’s still such a newbie since five of those months he spent as a prisoner. No one really knows him all that well and vice versa. In fact, these two men have only met on one other occasion, and that was the night before Jimmy and Malik were shipped out to Syria. It’s ironic it was the first time Cruce had met Jimmy as well, but he would never get the opportunity to know him any better. It’s a bitter pill to swallow as I watch the two men chat as we inch forward in the line.
Cruce’s gaze comes to me as he asks, “How’s the peanut? Growing like a weed?”
“Yes,” I exclaim, promptly pulling my phone out of my shoulder clutch to show him pictures.
“You need to send these to Barrett,” he says with a laugh. “She has baby fever.”
“Really?” I drawl, my eyebrows raised. “You two are trying?”
“When we’re on the same side of this continent,” he replies with bitter exaggeration.
Malik looks a little lost, so I fill him in. “Barrett travels back and forth to California. She’s helping a private research consortium out there develop a reactor to generate fusion energy.”
Malik looks slightly confused as he blinks his eyes. “Sounds like a smart woman.”
“Double PhDs in electrical engineering and physics,” Cruce replies proudly, his chest puffing out a little. Then he leans in toward Malik, gives a sly look around to ensure no one else is listening, and murmurs, “But don’t let that fool you. She’s hot as hell, too.”
I snort as Malik bursts out laughing. “Duly noted.”
We load our plates up with slices of carved beef tenderloin with spicy horseradish, Cajun boiled shrimp, glazed carrots, pasta salad, pork dumplings, and samplings from a charcuterie board. My plate has little piles neatly arranged while Malik’s is weighed down by a mountain of food.
Cruce joins us at a table already occupied by two other Jameson agents, Ladd McDermott and Jackson Gale. They were both hired after Malik got captured, so I make introductions.
Both men are easygoing and make Malik instantly feel welcomed. Ladd is one of our older agents at forty-one. He has premature salt-and-pepper hair he wears cropped short and brushed forward. His piercing blue eyes can look frosty at first glance, but he’s a pretty nice guy from what little interaction I’ve had with him. Kynan told me that he’s former CIA, which means he has some really good stories to tell I bet.
Jackson is about Malik’s age and a former Navy SEAL. Cage brought him into Jameson a few months ago. Despite being in his mid-twenties, Jackson has an old man’s vibe about him. Not physically, of course, but more in spirit. It’s like he’s seen things he shouldn’t have and, from that, he’s developed a wisdom most people his age don’t have.
“Where’s Cage?” Jackson asks.
“San Francisco,” I reply, cutting into my tenderloin. “He and Rachel are speaking at a security conference all week.”
Rachel is Kynan’s second in command at Jameson, and she runs the Vegas office. I haven’t met her yet, but I have talked to her many times via phone and Skype. She’s super cool. It’s one of the things I love most about working at Jameson and having Kynan as a boss. He puts women in power positions, and he doesn’t believe their gender is a limiting factor at all.
It often makes me wonder if I could be “more” one day. I have military training, after all. I’m daring and adventurous, not afraid of a challenge. While I’m good at my job of helping Kynan run this company, I know I have more to offer.
“I was thinking of hitting The Basement tonight,” Jackson says, turning to Malik. “Want to come out?”
To my surprise, Malik’s gaze moves to me. While his face remains motionless, I can read the question within his eyes.
Should I?
He’s not asking me from any type of proprietary standpoint. He’s asking if I believe he’s ready to put himself out there with his new teammates and into mainstream life.
“I better put a warning out to all the single ladies,” I say with a wink.
Malik takes that as my acknowledgment that… yes, I do think it would be good for him. Plus, he needs to bond with more members of Jameson.
“What about you?” Jackson asks Ladd.
He shakes his head. “Sorry… got plans tonight, but maybe some other time. They have that new ax-throwing thing there, which sounds right up my alley.”
“You’ll come, too, Anna?” Malik asks, and I swivel his way. Again, there’s nothing on his face and his tone is neutral, leaning toward just being inclusive, but it seems to me it’s important to him that I come, too.
Jackson jumps in to correct his invitation oversight. “Of course, Anna. You come, too. I wasn’t excluding you at all. I just assumed you’d need to get home to Avery.”
“My mom has her all night,” I reply with an understanding smile. But I also know part of that was exclusionary, and not because Jackson is a bad guy. It’s just… I’m not really part of that team.
I’m Kynan’s administrative assistant, which is not comparable to the bond the agents who are continually putting their lives at risk in some of the missions they go on share.
Maybe I should talk to Kynan about moving me up in the ranks. I’m sure I could be of better service here, although Jimmy is probably rolling in his grave right now at the direction of my thoughts.
I think I’ll find some time to run it by Malik first—see what he thinks.
And then it hits me… Malik has somehow become the person I feel the most comfortable going to with a life decision.
Jimmy’s not here to guide me anymore.
My mom would tell me that I’m being foolish.
My best friend wouldn’t understand.
Cage is too caught up in his new love life.
But Malik… he’d get my motivation. He’d let me talk it out. He might even disagree with me, but he’d also move mountains to help me achieve my goals. That’s a lot of faith, I realize, to have in someone, but it doesn’t make it any less true.