Page 37 of Mike

“Good call,” Mike grunted. “But you still shouldn’t be out in the field, alone.”

When she narrowed her eyes at him, he clarified.

“Not because I don’t think you’re capable, but without a team to lean on, how do you…decide when to sleep? When to move forward with an action and when to back off? For that matter, how much of a risk do you dare take in your surveillance, knowing there’s no one to save your ass if you fuck up?”

His face was getting darker and darker as he speculated.

“I’m careful,” she began. “When I?—”

“When you came here today…” He groaned, then started again. “If I had been one of your suspects, you’d be dead right now.”

Joe always knew there was a possibility of death in the field, but had never given it too much weight. She was more than capable of taking care of herself; stealth-wise and fight-wise. Her guard had been down today because of…Mike. Her mind had wandered, thinking about him, so her awareness hadn’t been top notch.

Bravado had always been her fallback, so she went for it now. “I totally would have kicked your rump if you weren’t so danged cute,” she postured, taking a bite of the soft bread in her hand. “You’ve yet to see me in action.”

There were snickers and guffaws from the bunch around them.

Joe rolled her eyes at their sophomoric take on her words, and amended her statement.

“Okay. Mike hasn’t seen me in close-quarter fighting action yet,” she clarified, which got another round of laughter. “But I’m highly trained, and I don’t generally fear for my life.”

There had been a time or two… Okay. Maybe a half dozen times in the past couple years where she wasn’t sure if she’d make it out of a situation alive. But those were the anomalies.

She took another hearty spoonful of stew and waited to see how the crowd would react.

It was Kyle who got serious. “We’ve all learned, sometimes the hard way, that it doesn’t always matter how proficient you are. Shit happens. And the only way out of it is having someone on your six.”

Joe lifted one corner of her mouth, wryly. “Unfortunately, that’s not my call. My boss makes the decisions, and I follow his rules.”

“He’s an ass,” Mike stated, putting his empty bowl aside. “I already didn’t like him when you told us he treats you differently than his other agents. Like with your language.” He looked disgusted. “But putting you in possible danger because of his prejudice…”

If looks could kill, Lester would be dropping dead back in Nevada right now.

That was a cheerful thought.

Still, she needed to diffuse this. “Listen, people. I understand your concern, but if I want to keep my job, which I’m drammed good at, I need to kiss my boss’s tiny little smalls and keep him happy.”

Mason cleared his throat, and everyone looked to him. As the chief and leader of the team, his word was given a lot of gravitas. Joe perked up her ears. She was as interested in hearing what he had to say as the rest of his team.

“You don’t have to continue dancing to that man’s tune, Elle.”

She felt bad he was using her alias, but maybe not for too much longer.

“I’m making an assumption here that your agency is federal. One with three letters. Which means there are offices available to you all over the country. Why don’t you transfer? Get with a group who appreciates what you do, and covers your ass.”

Joe sighed. He’d just said what she’d been thinking earlier. She let out a little more info. “Because I’m afraid he’s written some drumming stuff about me in his files. I already know I don’t get credit for any busts. Which is okay. But it means I won’t look all that appealing to another location. Besides, I’m also pretty sure Lester has used every opportunity to smear my name in his little notebook of transgressions.” She tapped her lip, thinking. “I’m speculating here. Throwing something out for your opinions.” She drew in fresh air. “Since I haven’t been fired by him for anything I’ve ever done…” Why hadn’t she thought of this before? A sneer crossed her lips. “What are the chances he’s keeping all the negative feedback he taunts me with, to himself, under lock and key until it behooves him to do otherwise.”

“Why?” Alvero bit.

“He knows his scribblings make me afraid to ask for a transfer, but if I ever did, he’d be able to discourage any other office’s interest in me.” Everything was becoming crystal clear to Joe now. “Because…” Fluke! The devious blastnard. “…if I left, Lester wouldn’t have me to do all the leg work. He wouldn’t be able, any longer, to take credit for all the ops I hand to him on a platter.”

“Cripes, Elle.” Thankfully, Mike remembered to call her by her alias in front of his team. “This guy is worse than a dick. He’s a glory-hogging schemer. I wonder how many raises he’s received because of the work you do?”

Joe didn’t even want to speculate. She was scrimping by on a salary that was years outdated, and Lester was probably pocketing bonuses left and right.

She was beginning to see red.

“If I?—”

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