Page 43 of Home for Justice
Tyler stood, grasping Logan’s hand with no hesitation. “Can’t think of anything I’d like better right now.”
As they stepped back out into the sunlight, a breeze carried the scent of pine and warmed earth across the open field between the buildings. The mountain peaks loomed in the distance, already capped with snow.
With each step toward the main compound, Tyler felt something shift inside him. He wasn’t just walking into another job or another team. This felt like a future.
“When we get inside, we’ll meet Mary,” Logan said. “She’s the real boss around here. This place wouldn’t function withouther. She’ll have an NDA for you to sign. It’s standard procedure, even for non-contracted folks. Protects the work we do.”
“I understand,” Tyler replied, his voice calm but sure.
They crossed the dusty lane and stepped into the building. A woman rolled out from behind the wide reception desk, her wheelchair gliding smoothly over the polished floor. Her brown hair was pulled back in a no-fuss twist, and sharp, intelligent eyes met his with quiet authority. Pleasant but direct, she gave Tyler a once-over that felt more like an assessment than a greeting. She appeared efficient, not unkind, and nothing escaped her notice.
“Mary Smithwick,” she said, offering her hand and a smile. “Former Navy. Currently queen of forms, passwords, and onboarding chaos.”
He grinned in return. “Tyler Marconi. Former Army. Currently wondering if this place is even real.”
Laughing, she handed over a manila folder. “NDA is inside. Sign, date, and I’ll get you a temporary badge.”
He opened the folder, pen poised. But before he signed, he looked at the line where his name would go. Funny how a few letters on a page could feel like crossing a bridge. But that was exactly what this was—a step into something new. Something he hadn’t realized he needed until it was in front of him. He signed, then handed it back.
This time, she looked at him with a smile, illuminating her pretty face. “Welcome aboard.”
“Thank you, ma’am… Mary.”
She chuckled, and Logan clapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s show you what it means to be a Keeper.”
Tyler didn’t just walk down the hall behind Logan. He moved forward with a purpose. And maybe toward the life that had been waiting for him all along.
19
Tyler’s pulse quickened with every step deeper into the compound, anticipation curling through him. From the outside, the LSIMT headquarters was little more than a low, concrete structure—nondescript, even underwhelming. But as Logan led him through a secure corridor lined with reinforced walls and recessed cameras, Tyler’s instincts sharpened.
They stopped at a door that seemed ordinary until Logan keyed in a code, placed his thumb on a biometric pad, and let the retina scanner sweep over his eye. A green light blinked. With a soft whoosh, the door slid open, revealing a state-of-the-art elevator, sleek and silent. The kind of thing Tyler imagined in the depths of a CIA bunker.
They descended. What waited for him below was not just impressive… it was stunning.
The elevator opened onto a cavernous room humming with quiet energy. Bright LED lights illuminated clean lines and smooth concrete floors. Along the perimeter, high-tech workstations glowed with softly blinking lights, worked by a few focused Keepers. Interactive whiteboards lined the walls, tracking operations in progress with live video feeds, real-time GPS overlays, and scrolling data. In the center, a massive ovaltable made of steel and dark wood anchored the space like a command post.
It was organized chaos and already felt like home.
“Welcome to the heartbeat of LSIMT,” Logan said, the quiet pride in his voice unmistakable.
As they walked the floor, Tyler was greeted with nods and grins, claps on the shoulder, and quick “congrats” that carried a tone only those in the field could truly understand. These weren’t just colleagues. The kind of camaraderie he hadn’t felt since his last team rotation overseas. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it until now.
Logan let him drift, observing the rhythm of the place. Todd was hunched over a workstation with Frazier, gesturing at a digital blueprint. “We’ve got to find a weak point before they do,” Todd murmured, eyes intense. Frazier nodded, tapping in notes.
“They’re mapping security for a private escort job,” Logan explained. “The client’s a nuclear physicist under threat from a hostile faction in Europe. High-risk, high-reward.”
On the far side of the room, Dalton and Casper were deep into a video conference. On-screen was a couple discussing sensor arrays for a custom security system on a vineyard estate in Napa.
“That’s Frederick and Tricia Poole from LSI West Coast. Their specialties are access control and remote surveillance,” Logan said as Tyler watched the seamless coordination. “We tap into our other branches for certain tech jobs.”
Before Tyler could ask more, Bert waved him over and offered a quick tour of the other facilities. The armory was as well-stocked with rows of meticulously maintained firearms, customized gear, night vision goggles, and tactical vests. The adjoining gym was compact but hardcore, with a heavy-duty training rig, a sparring mat, and punching bags lined against the wall.
A shower area and locker room followed, then a surprisingly cozy employee kitchen and lounge space, complete with coffee machines, a microwave, an oven, and a stovetop. There was not only a large table but also two sofas in the corner.
When they stepped back into the central room, the elevator pinged again. The doors opened to reveal Mary, rolling out confidently with a tablet perched on her lap. Her eyes sparkled with shrewd amusement. “Hope you’re not too dazzled to handle some thrilling HR paperwork,” she said with a grin.
Tyler laughed as she approached. “I think I can manage.”
