Page 31 of The Story of Danny Rose

It wasn’tallPMCs in this building, but sure, there were a few of us. Hillcroft had its connections with a local company that rented out apartments to private contractors and foreign personnel who worked with the US military in some capacity. I got a Christmas card from the Damien family every year. Last year’s card had included the American dream of a family, fathersitting by the fireplace, mother standing next to him, and their baby boy Kit in her arms.

“Okay, make yourselves at home,” I said. “Tenleys, you know where your room is. Danny, you’re with me.”

I didn’t have much to show him, to be honest. A generous-sized kitchen combined with living room area, nice view of the river, Pentagon to the east, two bedrooms, two baths.

“Did you just move in?” Danny wondered.

I rubbed the back of my neck.

He was eyeing the empty walls. I didn’t have much furniture either. I ate my meals at the bar or on the couch. TV, coffee table, a bookcase filled with books… My sister had shared her input too, but…what more did I need?

“Uh, no. I’ve been here a few years,” I said. I’d still been under SAS contract when I’d come over the first four or five times.

“Okay.” Danny patted me on my chest and headed for my bedroom. “I have thoughts.”

I smiled.

He was welcome to make changes.

River headed for the bookcase after he’d thrown his bag in their room. Something had lit a fire under his ass this weekend. He hadn’t necessarily spoken a whole lot to Danny, but he’d observed. I’d written a list of books I had, that I’d recommended to River, and he started taking out the first four. History of US and British intelligence services, a Spanish dictionary, covert ops in Eastern Europe…

“Don’t forget to rest, kid,” I said.

He grinned faintly and got comfortable on the couch. “This is me restin’.”

Uh-huh.

I’d let him be for now. I carried my bag into my room, where Danny sat at the foot of the bed and waited for me.

“Hi, Daddy.”

“Hey, little one.” I closed the door.

Two days later, it was time to make things official.

While River and Reese headed down to Virginia Beach to spend a couple days with their grandmother, I brought Danny over to Hillcroft for the first time.

The box-shaped building was like a mirror, and I squinted for the sunrays that reflected off the glass exterior.

“It doesn’t say Hillcroft anywhere,” Danny mused, looking up at the building.

“No, it doesn’t.” I ushered him through the revolving door, and I nodded with a dip of my chin at the man behind the circular desk.

It was a grand lobby with a lot of dead space and boring potted plants. And the name of the agency wasn’t anywhere to be seen here either. Those who came here already knew, and they were either clients or employees.

When we reached the elevators, I brought out my ID and tapped it to the reader below the buttons. Then I pressed seven. The top floor.

“Does that mean you have the highest clearance?” Danny smirked.

I chuckled. “No, it means I’m cleared to speak to the receptionist on the top floor.” I combed my fingers through his hair. “I’m just a lowly operator.”

He didn’t believe me. “I call bullshit. You pull strings all the time.”

Perhaps. That didn’t mean I could come and go throughout the building however I wanted, though. In fact, I’d never visitedfloors five and six even once. I didn’t know what happened there. My guess was…intelligence and IT. The building wasn’t precisely huge, compared to many similar places here in Arlington, but Hillcroft did employ enough people to fill all the floors with the personnel required to orchestrate all kinds of operations. From mechanics and medical staff to operators and instructors.

“I’ll tell you what I know about the floor plan,” I said, watching the number tick higher above the doors. “The basement has our shooting range and training facilities. First floor is nothing but classrooms and a big cafeteria. On the second, library, rec rooms, kitchen, and dormitory. Third, conference rooms and offices. Fourth, recruitment office and HR.”

He pursed his lips as the elevator dinged, and the doors opened.

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