by Christi Snow
Halftime Texting
Mudflap: So is this really your phone number?
Shanae: Get fake numbers often, do you?
Mudflap: No comment, but I’m glad this one’s real. When can I see you?
Shanae: Come up with a game-plan and we can talk.
Mudflap: What? Just seeing my handsome face isn’t enough of a lure for you to say yes?
Shanae: No.
Mudflap: Wow, you’re tough, but I like that. A woman who knows her mind is a good thing.
Shanae: Still not going to see you until you have a definite plan.
Mudflap: Damn.
Shanae
“The Alliance to Liberate Texas, ALT, appears to be back. They left a calling card at the cotton gin fire the EMS team responded to yesterday. A coin with their five point Celtic star was found by one of the firefighters.” Shanae Anders, aka Shadowfox, flipped the slide on the screen so her team members saw the 5-pointed star crossed with Celtic markings. “One firefighter was seriously injured and two small children were extremely lucky to walk away with only minor smoke inhalation.”
A highly skilled secret agent, she met the gaze of each man surrounding the table in the LiFT conference room so they could see the seriousness of the situation. This group of just over twenty men made up her team and two other teams within the branch of Lubbock Foxtrot Team, a top secret branch of the Department of Homeland Security, hiding in plain sight under the guise of Lift EMS contracting.
As members of Lift EMS, they provided air and ambulance medical emergency services to the local area. Every person on the team was fully medical and paramedic qualified and trained. As Lubbock Foxtrot Team, LiFT, they were responsible for national security in the western half of Texas and Oklahoma. They were equally proficient in subterfuge and military defense and offense.
Their cover allowed them explanations for high speed deployment by land or by air, twenty-four hours a day, 365 days a year. No one ever questioned their mission and they did their job well. Actually they did both jobs well, as first responders to the local area’s medical emergencies and to the national emergencies they responded to as top secret agents for the federal government.
“I’m doing the briefing today because I have firsthand experience with ALT from my time at HeFT.” HeFT was the Houston Foxtrot Team and Shanae had transferred from that unit three months ago.
“I know many of you have heard of ALT and their agenda, but from my understanding the Lubbock office has never had to deal specifically with the organization. ALT is a nasty piece of work. Like their name states, Alliance to Liberate Texas, their ultimate goal is for Texas to secede from the United States. And they have no qualms about the death and destruction they unleash on the innocent citizens of Texas to reach that goal. Two years ago, we thought we’d taken down the organization when a late night raid ended with the death of the leader and several layers of their command.” She pushed the button to change the photo on the screen to show the aftermath of the raid.
“The organization disappeared at that point in time; at least that’s what we thought, but obviously we assumed wrong.”
She glanced around the room to take stock of their attitudes. “ALT has a history of creating havoc in Texas under the umbrella of other groups. They do this because, while we’ve been able to connect them peripherally to the events, we’ve never been able prove that ALT was the top group pulling the strings. They always work it so the sub-organization takes the fall and ends up taking the blame. In the south, they liked using the Mexican cartels. They used those groups to prove the federal government is inept at providing protection and Texans could do a better job taking care of their own. Whatever they had a hand in, it was nasty, violent, and vicious. We can’t allow this organization to gain momentum again. They have to be stopped.”
She took a deep breath. “What we need to find out is what they’re up to. Already, something has changed with their tactics. That cotton gin fire was minor, definitely not the big drama that ALT normally likes to create. So give me the game plan here.”
Quirk, their computer and technology guru and the only person on the team without an additional code name, pushed his glasses up his nose as he spoke. “There hasn’t been any chatter about a resurgence of ALT, although we have noticed increased chatter focused specifically in Texas that leads us to believe that something is on the horizon.” He scanned the faces in the room. “Something bad appears to be brewing out there, boys and girls.”
Andrew Wilkins, the team’s doctor and second in command, also known as Foxglove, tapped his pen on the table. At close to forty years old, he was a deadly opponent out in the field. Luckily for LiFT, he was just as highly-skilled as a surgeon as he was an assassin since he was regularly called upon to put the team back together when missions went bad. “I’m assuming we don’t have any specifics on these threats since we’re not acting.”
At Quirk’s nod, he continued. “So that takes us back to the calling card.” He directed his focus on Shanae. “We’re assuming it was left for us, but it may not have been. Our presence on the scene may have just been coincidence. What do you know about the hurt firefighter and his partner?”
That his partner made her want to rip off her panties and didn’t oblige her when she offered sex probably wasn’t the answer Andrew was looking for right now, especially since he’d developed a crush on her.
She passed the folders holding the results of that check around the room now.
“The hurt firefighter’s name is Grant Simpson. His partner’s name is Mudflap Davidson.” She worked to maintain her cool facade, although just the thought of him sent her pulse racing.
There were several twitching mouths around the room which was unusual, especially in light of the serious nature of this meeting.
“Mudflap?” Michael asked incredulously. Also known as Firefox, he was the team’s back-up pilot, assassin, and paramedic.
The corner of her mouth quirked up. “I know, but from what I could find out, that’s his legal name.”
“Why? Was jackass taken?” That catcall came from Cord, the other paramedic in her crew, who was known as Sunfox for his California surfer good-looks.
Loud laughter broke out across the room, releasing some of the tension from the intense nature of the meeting.
“Okay, everyone settle down and let Shadowfox continue,” instructed their commander, Daniel Stanton, Foxhunter.
Shanae smiled before continuing. “I’m sure there’s quite a story to his name, but that’s not our focus today. Mudflap Davidson has served in the Lubbock Fire Department for the last four years. Eight years prior to that, he served with distinction in the Army. He was an elite sniper within the Special Forces, highly decorated, and discharged with honor. His record is completely clean, although his psych evaluation shows he had some guilt issues dealing with his spotter’s death. The investigation cleared him of all responsibility. It was just an unlucky day for both of them, since Mudflap was injured in the ambush also. Overall, he’s a regular boy scout. He grew up in Brownfield. His older brother is TC Davidson.”
“Wait a minute, TC Davidson, the former wide-receiver and now assistant coach for the Kansas City Chiefs?” That question came again from Michael. He’d just moved to the area and obviously wasn’t up to date yet on their famous local boys. But he was a huge football fan, so it made sense that he’d heard of TC.
“One in the same. There have been rumors that he’s looking for a head coaching job with one of the Texas Universities, but no one has grabbed him yet. Of course, that would require one of the current coaches to step down and with all three of the big name schools predicted to be in the top twenty-five this year, that isn’t likely to happen anytime soon,” Quirk said, as he fiddled with something on his iPad, obviously doing his normal three to five things at once.
“Regardless of the status of the football coaching staff, I don’t see any reason for Mudflap to be targeted. Maybe their focus was someone else from his station
or his partner who was the injured firefighter.” Shanae glanced around the room to see if anyone else had any other ideas.
When they offered nothing, she pulled out Grant’s file. “Grant Simpson has been with the fire department for nine years. On paper, he’s been happily married to Donna Simpson for two years. They don’t have any children. Three years ago, Grant’s father died in a single car automobile accident during a bad thunderstorm. Grant pushed the police department to open an investigation into the accident, but from what I can tell, that never happened. The death was ruled an accident. His mother died when he was a child from cancer. At first glance, there are no links.”
She continued. “Right now, we’ve only been able to scratch the surface details. Maybe something else will come up once we dig deeper, but until then, I’m open to ideas.”
Daniel, the team’s commander, spoke from across the table. “I know from your report that you already established a friendship with Mudflap. I want you to pursue that. Get close to him and see if you can spot any other irregularities with him or anyone else from his fire station.”
Anticipation snaked through her. She wanted to get to know Mudflap better even though something about the idea intimidated her. She wasn’t used to having such an immediate physical reaction to a guy, any guy. Maybe sleeping with him was the best option, and if it helped her do her job, even better. Then she could work him and get this obsession out of her system. No more sleepless nights like she had last night, with thoughts and fantasies keeping her awake tossing and turning.
“In the meantime, I’ll see what we can do to get someone inserted into the fire station crew to monitor things from there. Any questions?” Daniel glanced around the room. “Okay, then, we’ve had a long day. I’ll see everyone back here tomorrow morning.”
Shanae began to gather up her paperwork avoiding Andrew’s gaze as he left the room. Damn, he was going to make this difficult, wasn’t he? She knew the last time they went out together on a mission he’d left her with an unsettled feeling, with gazes that lasted too long, and touches that lingered. He was a nice guy. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she didn’t do relationships. She tried it once and that had been a disaster. Maybe if her career was different, then maybe, but even then, her faith in the male race had suffered too much.
She knew better than to expect some white knight to sweep her off her feet. She’d grown up surrounded by men who used women and then didn’t give them a second thought after they threw them away. She’d thought for a little bit maybe there was something more for her with Seth, her ex, because he worked in the same basic career as her as a field agent for the CIA. But that proved to be wrong, too. Men in general were users. Add her job into the mix and happily ever after was not an option for her. It was better just to use men for sex and move on before emotions got entangled.
Sex. Mudflap. Oh God, had she really propositioned him in a hospital supply closet? Finally alone in the room, she let her head thunk down on the conference table. That was ballsy even for her. Normally, unless required by the mission, Shanae would never do what she did with him. But that had been the result of three high-adrenaline emergency calls. The cotton gin fire had been the first and then their final call of the day had come too late for the victim. She never reacted well when she lost a patient en-route. Add in the incredible chemistry between her and Mudflap, and she had basically spontaneously combusted all over him.
It would be better if she just stayed away from him. She’d seen him from a distance before and had immediately been attracted to his dark, rugged good looks. He was one of those guys that oozed testosterone, from his perpetual five o’clock shadow, to the six feet plus of toned, sexy muscles, all topped off by short, curly dark hair that just begged for her fingers to run through it.
She felt pulled to him on a basic level, like air, but now he was an assignment. She had no choice but to get friendly with him. Hopefully this case would wrap up quickly so she didn’t have to violate her three date policy. Three dates, no emotional attachment. Those were her rules, but already she sensed Mudflap could endanger the walls she had erected and that was unacceptable.
Mudflap
Poker Night. This week it was at Mudflap’s house. The four bedroom arts and crafts bungalow had plenty of space for the half dozen guys who sat around the table drinking beer and talking shit. It was a great way to unwind after a long week.
Already it had begun. Riley, one of the regulars, was talking shit about A&M football. The lone Aggie of the group, he liked to push the limit for all the Red Raider fans in the room— in other words, everyone else.
The polls had come out this week and they were already predicting great seasons for both Texas Tech and Texas A&M, who ranked number twenty-two and twelve, respectively. Oh, and yeah, Texas was ranked, too, but since no one at the poker game was from that camp, everyone just ignored the cows to the south.
Riley’s mouthiness continued. “Y’all know that Tech is going to choke first thing, just because they can’t handle the pressure of being ranked.”
Mudflap looked to his friend, Stetson, a big, muscular firefighter who almost always sported an equally large smile to match his stature.
“Remind me again why we invite this guy.”
Stetson rolled his eyes. “Because he’s an Aggie. We need the easy money and he’s a sure thing.”
“Yeah, talk it up boys. We’ll see who’s walking out of here with the most money tonight and at the end of the season, too.” Riley was starting to look aggressive, with a sneer that dominated his face. The bastard had a hair trigger temper. Seriously, why did they invite the asswipe?
“Really?” Derek, Mudflap’s roommate, never avoided a challenge. The kid was loyal to a fault, but one of these days, that was likely to get him into trouble. “Would you care to place a little wager on your beloved Aggies? I’m thinking Tech will outrank them in the standings at the end of the season.”
Mudflap settled back into his chair and took a long draw on his beer. This was liable to go on for a while.
Riley grinned, but it wasn’t a friendly gesture. “What kind of wager are you thinking about, whelp? I’m not sure you can afford to play with the big boys.”
Mudflap clenched his jaw. Riley was an asshole, but he was a corporate lawyer with a lot of money. Unfortunately, Derek was in a bad place right now. He’d just gotten out of a bad relationship with a girl who took him for all she could and at twenty-five the poor kid didn’t have much extra to give. When he found himself homeless and basically broke because the bitch had broken his heart right after emptying his bank account and kicking him out of their apartment, Mudflap had let him move into the guest room in his house.
Unfortunately, Derek was learning his lessons about love the hard way. Looking at him, with his clean-cut model good looks, you would never guess he had a romantic streak a mile wide. He’d had the serious misfortune to fall for a girl who saw that and took complete advantage of it.
“Riley, lay off him,” Mudflap warned. “I thought we were going to play poker here.”
Derek shook his head. “No, it’s okay, Mudflap. I have faith in the Raiders and I think they’ll go all the way this year.” He turned back to Riley, his eyes flashing with challenge. “Tell you what, since we all know my financials aren’t all that great right now, let’s make a wager of a different sort. If Tech goes all the way to the Championship…and wins…you’ll have to detail my car every week for the next year. If A&M does it, the same wager goes for me detailing your car.”
Mudflap smirked. That was actually a good bet. Riley drove a Porsche that he loved almost as much as his beloved Aggies. But Derek drove a ratty old 80’s model Pontiac Grand Prix. Riley would be totally humiliated to have to detail that every week. There was no way Riley would turn down this bet and the vision of him having to detail Derek’s piece of shit car was enough to make him smile at the possibilities.
Riley reached across and shook Derek’s hand. “You’re on, toddler. We’ll
see who goes all the way.”
Game 1 Results:
Texas Tech (22): 82
vs.
Washington State University: 64
Week 2: You Have to Fight for Every Inch
Mudflap
Mudflap groaned as he pulled into the parking lot of the fire station. Damn, Misty was here again. He’d met Misty at a community outreach breakfast early in the summer where he’d served pancakes. Part of his job had been to present a pleasant face for the fire department. When an attractive group of young girls sat at one of his tables, he didn’t think twice about flirting with them. It was supposed to be harmless. But somehow it had become a huge problem.
Misty was in her early twenties. She was a tiny little thing with shoulder length bleach blonde hair, dyed blue at the tips. At first, she would drop by the station with a batch of cookies for all the guys about once a week, which was nice, but he was never interested in dating her. He’d been up front with that from the beginning, but she persisted. Now she showed up almost daily. Everyone was getting tired of it, but especially Mudflap. He’d tried to let her down gently, but that hadn’t made a dent in her obsession with him. He was afraid it was time to take drastic measures.
As Mudflap crawled out of his vintage Bronco, Stetson pulled up in his truck. Shaking his head as he jumped down from the cab, Stetson gestured over to Misty’s VW. “Man, you’re gonna have to do something about this before this girl goes postal on your ass.”
Mudflap grimaced at that image. He wouldn’t worry except she had taken to dropping by the house lately, too. He needed Misty to get over this crush and out of his life, before she screwed things up between Shanae and him. Not that there was a Shanae and him yet, but he hoped there would be soon. “Yeah, I know.”
As they entered the station, Mudflap headed straight to the dayroom, where he knew he’d find Misty. Stetson abandoned him and headed back toward the dorms. “Chicken,” Mudflap hissed as Stetson strolled down the hall.
