Armed Response. Janie Crouch

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       Chapter Three

      Lillian had been quick and wiry her whole life. Not just fast with running, although she could average a six-minute mile for ten miles in a row, but swift with everything. Her hand movements, her body movements, how she processed info.

      A lot of it probably came from early in her life, when if she wanted to eat, she’d had to steal food from the grocery store or local market. And if she wanted to sleep safely, away from her mother’s drunken wrath or boyfriends’ wandering hands, she’d learned how to move quickly and silently out the window.

      Those lessons might have been hard to come by, but each of them had made her into the woman—the warrior—she was today.

      Whatever didn’t kill her had better start running.

      The SWAT team was sparring and doing some general workouts in the training area until the new guy got there. Another new guy. Evidently this one had a little more experience than Saul, the friendly yet trigger-happy newbie who had been filling in for the last couple of weeks. Or anybody was better than Philip Carnell, the computer whiz who had been working with them as an analyst in hostile situations for the last two months.

      Carnell had a mind like a steel trap, but the personality of a horse’s ass. Which was probably an insult to the hind end of a horse. Nobody liked Philip and he had a bone to pick with everybody about seemingly every damn thing. Lillian avoided him whenever possible. Hell, everybody avoided him whenever possible, unless he was acting as Tactical Command, as he had been a couple of days ago. Carnell was great at finding fast solutions in dangerous tactical situations, but he wasn’t physically adept enough to be a part of the tactical team.

      He’d only sulked about that fact and gave his opinion about “the unfairness of elitist practices” of the SWAT team about once every hour. Lillian was glad to not have to deal with him in training or in the field.

      Saul wasn’t so bad. He tried to get a little too friendly, and grinned a little too much for her taste. But at least Surfer Boy didn’t make her want to lock him in a trunk, like she did with Carnell.

      Right now she brought her leg around in a vicious roundhouse kick and hit the punching bag. Roman Weber, her teammate holding the bag for her, took a quick step back.

      “Trying to take out all your aggression on one poor defenseless piece of canvas?” He chuckled as he grabbed the bag more firmly.

      “Too many new people, Roman. I don’t like change.”

      “Oh, yeah? Try finding out you’re about to be a dad. Now, that’s change.”

      Lillian grinned at him. “Yeah, every time that happens to me I swear it’s not gonna happen again.”

      Despite his wounds from an explosion two months ago, she knew Roman couldn’t be happier about Keira being back in his life and the baby they had on the way. Hell, it seemed like just about everybody on the SWAT team had found romance-novel-type true love within the last year.

      Lillian was thrilled for them, she really was. She liked each and every one of the women her teammates had fallen for. But love and marriage weren’t in the cards for her. She’d long since accepted that. Emotional attachment just wasn’t her thing.

      But she had a career she savored and kicked ass at. That was enough.

      “I hear this new guy is actually qualified to be on the team. An Army Ranger. Steve Drackett vouches for him personally,” Roman said.

      Lillian punched the bag again. “I just wish Liam was back in action.” Their teammate had almost been killed by a biological weapon three weeks ago.

      “He’s alive and going to recover. That’s what matters.”

      Omega Sector’s casualty list at Damien Freihof’s hand was getting too damn long.

      Liam Goetz, SWAT team member: seriously injured via chemical inhalation. Hospitalized two weeks.

      Roman Weber, SWAT team member: seriously injured via explosion. In a coma for more than a week.

      Tyrone Marcus, SWAT team member-in-training: killed in action via explosion.

      Grace Parker, Omega psychiatrist: murdered in cold blood.

      And those were just the worst of the worst.

      Especially Grace. Damn it. Lillian forced herself to push away the grief that threatened to suck her under at the thought of losing the other woman and the close friend she had become.

      She switched with Roman and held the bag as he went through a series of kicks and punches, at a slower speed and with less force because of his recent injuries. As soon as the new guy came in, they’d be doing some training with him. Running the SWAT obstacle course, some sparring, throwing him immediately into the mix.

      “Hopefully this new guy won’t crush on you like Saul,” Roman said between punches.

      She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. I don’t think Saul understands that I don’t date work people.”

      “You don’t date anyone.”

      This was an old argument. “I do date. I just don’t announce it around here like all you lovesick fools. СКАЧАТЬ