"You can't resign!"
My chief stood, outraged at my letter. I sat in my chair, passive.
"Chief Gunner, with all due respect, you pinned me with a Senator that is well hated, and you knew that I hated, and I took a bullet for, and nearly died." I said, remaining calm. "I was back to work in two and a half weeks when I was supposed to have a month off. I resign, and I want my last check."
"I'll double your salary, Leysa. Please, stay."
"There is no amount of money that could make me stay, Gunner." I told him, standing up. "Please, just give me my check."
"What do you want? Anything! You're my best guard! I can't lose you!"
"I wanted a stable client!" I lost my cool with him. I never lost it with him and he must have seen how much this was wearing down on me. Not even he knew about what happened in Iraq. It was labeled CONFIDENTIAL, and locked away. The only thing they were accessed, was that I served one tour, I was MARSOC, my rank, my squadron, and my discharge status. That was it.
"I have a position that just opened up... it's a stable client. Live-in Bodyguard. Former Navy SEAL turned Billionaire, took over his father's legacy. He has two outside the house, one live in." He took the file and handed it to me. The face was very familiar.
And I studied it for a moment.
Years served: 2004-2014
Squadron: S092
It added up.
"Scorpio..." I breathed. How'd he come up as a client? I looked up to this man in high school. He was why I joined the military. He had a firm stance on allowing women in military and Spec-Ops, and he had a little over the number of confirmed kills that I did.
"Yes, that's him. He has two that go with him outside, one that stays at the house. Three armed guards on property at all times. He pays double salary, and he provides all living costs. Johnson is not retiring for five more days, it'll give you enough time to move in if you accept it." My apartment would just be rented out by another guard. Our company furnished it, aside from bedding and cutlery/plating. They had their own housing if we could not afford our own, and it was only $400 out of our check a month.
"Did he request me?" I asked, looking more in depth at his profile. He looked very, very closely like Hades. It made my throat thick, bringing back memories.
"He asked for former military only. I told him I'd send my best." I held the keys to my issued suburban in my hand. "Please, Leysa. For the both of us."
I thought about it. A stable client, one that I had been asking for for the last six months... but he reminded me of the man I had dearly loved and lost...
"I'll do it."
*
I started packing some gear up to start, mostly my rifles that I was not leaving behind.
I ran my hands over my Saint Edge, my newest Edition to my rifles, which had been sericoated with a tattered flag, engraved with my code name. I ran my fingers over it. Firehawk. 7/2/14 The day I lost my squad. The day I carry my burden the most.
I put it in its case with my AK, and my 458, then put my other handguns in another case, closing the safe. I reset the PIN number on the Biometric lock, clearing the fingerprints. Packing up three bags of clothes, and toiletries, I put them in the suburban and then went to his property to meet him.
*
I called Johnson, who opened the door for me. It's been a while since I'd seen the old coot, but I had all the respect in the world for him.
"Romera! Still pretty as always!" He hugged me, and I returned it. I returned it, feeling my cold dead heart warm, just a bit.
"Hey, Johnson. Ready to go traveling already?" I teased him, letting him go.
"Nah, these old bones bought a lake house. The wife is happy, and is ready to finally see my face more often." I pat his shoulder as he let me in to the lavish house. "Mr. Clairmont's housekeeper, Agnes, sweet woman, just made dinner. Come, join us." I took in my surroundings. The house was very cozy. It was decorated like a log cabin, but had luxury to it. Following Johnson to the dining room, I saw him. "Mr. Clairmont, Agnes, this is Corporal Romera. She'll be your bodyguard 24/7 from the end of the week on out." I gave them a stiff nod of the head.
"Come and join us, please!" Agnes said cheerfully. "Chief Gunner called earlier and told us to expect you earlier." There was a place already set... and a glass of wine. I wasn't much of a wine drinker, and I never, ever drank on duty.
"Please, relax. The guards outside have everything handled. Very few people have been foolish to try anything in the past and it was years ago." His voice was a few octaves deeper that anything I'd been around, so it was a surprise to me.
"Thanks." Agnes had been kind enough to prepare a plate of steak, corn, mashed potatoes, garlic bread, and fried okra. It all smelled heavenly.
As soon as we began eating, I began to be questioned.
"So, Romera. What branch did you serve in? I didn't get a chance to read over your file."
"Marines, one tour." I swallowed the bite of steak I had put in my mouth.
"Did you decide to leave or did you not qualify for-"
"I am the only one alive from my squadron." I stopped him before he could finish.
"I see. My apologies. I don't doubt your qualifications for a moment, I just try to understand my bodyguards backgrounds a bit better."
"No offense taken." I returned to my meal.
"You are aware of the schedule, then?" He asked, sipping his glass of wine. I was itching for mine, but I would not reach for it.
"Around the clock. Outside of the house you will have double guards, three armed guards on this property at all times, five at your office during regular hours, two after hours. State of the art systems in each area. Monday to Friday it's nine to six at the office, Saturday ten to four. Sunday is whatever you choose it to be, and once a month is a trip out of the country, which I have federal clearance to be your guard in all of the places you have businesses in, and I speak the language of 4." He raised an eyebrow. "I speak nine."
"Impressive. The academy usually won't teach more than three."
"I took the lingual path in High school. The academy taught me Arabic, Hebrew, and Farsi." It was back and forth, but I asked him no questions. I needed to ask none.
"Well, I'll let you get settled into your new room. Agnes will show you to it."
"Does it have a gun safe in it?" He cursed.
"No, but I have a small spare-"
"I need at least a hundred pound empty." He blinked. "I was not leaving my arsenal at the employee housing. God knows what our new recruits would do with it."
"I can order one for you and have it delivered tomorrow." The guns would have to be locked in the closet for now, which would be fine. "The closet does have a lock on it, which Agnes can get you a key for." She showed me the way, where I put my first bag of items.
"Do you need any help bringing anything in, Co-"
"It's just Romera," I smiled kindly to her, "and no, ma'am, I don't. It's just three bags of clothes and two cases of my firearms."
"Okay! Well, here's the key for the closet, if you need anything washed and dried, it goes in this hamper, and anything washed and ironed, this one. Bathroom is through here, and it is your own, and I can give you the tour tomorrow. You don't officially start until Monday. So, please, settle in and shadow, but take it easy... Johnson did inform me of your past, but only because he didn't want anyone to be taken by surprise... I've handled Mr. Clairmont for years, and while his situation has gotten better, I can see yours has not. I'm here if you need anything, and I do mean that wholeheartedly." I didn't know if I should have been furious, or start tearing up.
"Thank you, Agnes." She left me to my own accord, and I brought my stuff in, placing it all where it needed to be. As I was pulling out my Saint Edge, that's when He decided to stare in.
"So that's why you were asking for the safe." I looked to my right, seeing him in cargos, a tee, and his combat boots. "Nice taste in weaponry."
"Thanks." I tried to hide the sourness in my voice, putting a magazine in, and loaded it, and propped it against the nightstand and bed, where I had just laid my bed set out.
"Johnson and I are going for a run, care to join us?" He offered, leaning against the wall. I still had an M4A1, an M16, an AR, an AK, and a 458 to put away.
"Sure. Give me five." I put the cases in the closet, locking it up. I grabbed my old BDU pants, and a white tee, and laced up my old boots, holstering my Springfield to the side of my hip, and locked the door to my room. The others were waiting for me at the back porch, and were ready to go. He had a trail he liked to run, and it was nice and lit by lamps at night, usually only had one or two runners on it. I ran front while Johnson ran behind. At the half mile mark, we slowed, since Johnson was getting older, but I could easily keep going.
There was rustling in the bushes and I had my gun ready to go.
"Back up." Johnson body blocked him, and out came a feral boar. I didn't hesitate and emptied my magazine into its skull. Thirteen rounds of .45. It didn't go dizzy until seven. It didn't hit the ground until eleven. I made sure it was dead. I pulled out my phone, calling 911.
"911, what is your emergency?"
"My name is Officer Romera with Eagle Protection Services, Bodyguard for Mr. Clairmont. We are on Pinewood Trails and a feral boar just charged us. We are at the creek bridge, and I am letting you know that I have discharged my gun, and there is a body. I need Animal Control and Police to come and pick it up."
"Yes, ma'am, picking up your coordinates and I'll have an officer out there in about fifteen minutes. Please stay on the line." I looked at the two of them and they were a little shocked at me.
"What? Y'all act like you've never dealt with boar before... scarier things exist... like Camel Spiders."
"Officer Romera?"
"Yes?" I answered back.
"Officer Junger is responding and his ETA is ten minutes. Is your gun empty?"
"Empty and holstered on my hip. I'm in a BDU, red hair."
"Alright, thank you." The call ended and I pocketed my phone. "Did none of you think to bring your gun?" Johnson actually looked away. "Oh, my god. You of all people..."
"This Trail is usually clear-"
"Key word, USUALLY!" I pointed at the boar. "You of all people should know that feral boar stop at nothing until they gouge and kill their prey. What would have happened if I wasn't carrying?"
"Alright, I'm sorry. I flubbed." The Officer finally made his way down, and took his notes, unholstered my gun for serial numbers, asked the other two for a statement, Animal Control took the body, and the run was over with.
"We're Not continuing on. One boar means there can be more. Animal Control is going to go with PD to scope out the area. We're going back to the house."
"I don't disagree." Clairmont said, and we continued our run back. Once we got back I went back to my room, opened up my MacBook, and drafted up a report of what happened. Once I typed it up, I sent it to my iPad, signed my statement, and I walked over to Clairmont.
"Read it and sign it... and before you think I'm throwing him under the bus, I'm just doing my job." He read it, and he read it very quickly.
"No, you were very right to do what you did. I allowed him to be lax." He signed it with the pencil, and I emailed it to Gunner. "Thank you."
"Just doing my job." I closed my iPad cover. "Do the guards have everything else for the night?" I asked, putting my hand in my pocket.
"Yeah, you're good for the night. Thank you, Romera."
*
Clairmont
I retrieved her file and read into it.
She was ex-special forces. I knew I had recognized her somewhere. The only female MARSOC to ever serve. I knew why she didn't want to talk about her service.
Codename Firehawk. She had lost her squadron, her fiancé, and a child all in the same mission. SEALS were called in for evac of that mess. My squadron was killed, save for my brother in arms, Lucifer, but I was placed with another squadron to go evac that group. That was my last mission before I was discharged.
She had taken out the group of Jihadi elites who took them hostage.
"Dear fucking god," I muttered to myself, "how did I not recognize her..." I got up, going to her room, but I stopped at her door. What was I going to do, apologize? For what? "Sorry your fiancé died and that your squadron was killed?" Yeah, that'd work out well.
A glass shattered in her room and that's when I knocked.
"Romera?"
"I'm fine!" I heard her curse and there was a thud. I opened her door up, and she was in her bathroom, fresh out of the shower, her towel revealing half of her-
"Oh,"
"Jesus Christ!" She covered herself, "I said I was, ow..." She got to her feet, where blood pooled, and a shard of glass was in her foot.
"Not fine." I went into the medicine cabinet, finding the first aid kit that was in all of the bathrooms. I saw four bottles of medication. Most of them were for war-related ailments. "Come on. Sit down on the tub." She hopped on one foot to the bathtub haphazardly, holding the towel tightly, sitting down. "They're not in there deep enough for stitches, but you have a few shards." I took out a pair of tweezers and started plucking them out. Once it was fine, I placed an ointment infused gauze pad over her foot, and wrapped it up. It was deja vu, but it had to be kept a secret. I didn't want to trigger anything. "Can you bear weight?" She tested it out, cringing a bit.
"Just on the ball of my foot." She shifted uncomfortably.
"I'll let you get dressed." I stepped out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind me, looking to the computer desk. She hadn't touched the iMac yet, but there was no log-in for her either. I'd have to do that at the office tomorrow.
The door opened a few moments later, and she came out in the old running shorts and a tank. Even those memories haunted me. I hated those shorts with a passion. Her long red hair flowed, still wet from the shower, but her face screamed exhausted instead of refreshed.
"I will get you access to the cameras tomorrow. Don't worry about shadowing, stay off the foot and allow it to scab over at least." She opened her mouth to argue, but I held the hand up. "Johnson is more than capable. My secondary guard is Callahan." She relaxed a bit. "Take your meds, Romera, and get some sleep. The world will not suddenly go into DEFCON 1 while you relax. The guards outside have shit handled, and Agnes will come clean up the glass momentarily." She sighed, sitting on her bed. "See you tomorrow." I probably wouldn't, because I knew keeping my knowledge of her past a secret was going to slip sooner or later.
"Yeah, goodnight." And I shut the door, and for the first time in two years, had to go take a Xanax to go sleep, or I wouldn't tonight.