The Russian (Federal Hellions Book 2)

by Gray Gardner

  Connor was formally dressed, meeting with several people during the day, explaining his progress and defending his unit. Several captains from the base were looming outside of the Colonel’s office when he finally had the last exhausting meeting of the day. The Colonel was touring the Middle East, so Major Taylor was acting in his place. The door to his office was closed as everyone in the waiting area stared at it.

  “It’s just something that happens once in a while. Recruiters from various government bureaucracies come and interview certain candidates to see if they could be appropriated outside of the armed forces.”

  Captain Connor looked over as his friend explained what was going on. He knew one little trainee who would probably be a great candidate, but he wasn’t quite through with her yet. If a government bureaucracy wanted her, they’d have to wait.

  In the Major’s office they met two agents from Intelligence, dodgy looking guys who were in search of recruits for clandestine operations in foreign countries.

  Again, Burton popped into his head. She’d so easily lied to them about her past. Why? He really didn’t know. She was smart and tough and could have blown through the officer’s academy and probably could have made captain by that point. If he was going to do anything before their Placement Training was over, he was going to get the truth out of her.

  He left the final meeting and approached the barracks as the sun was setting, knowing full well that his unit would be eating, and that Burton would be waiting in the empty bunk room for him. Unless she wanted it done in front of everyone, which he’d threatened the first night he’d come to apply the medicinal cream.

  “Why are you covered in paint?” he asked, stepping into the dark barracks and laughing as she stood there, arms folded and covered in a rainbow of splotchy paint.

  “Combat simulation with paint guns,” she replied, holding her arm out and waving her fingers. “Give it to me. I can do it on my own.”

  “You don’t feed yourself, you don’t sleep, how will I know you’ve applied it?” he asked, knowing that in the end she’d comply, but still loving the little game of resistance she put up every day.

  She exhaled and shook her head. “You know, my life was perfect until you barreled into it.”

  “Insults won’t help,” he said, sitting on a footlocker at the end of a bunk. “Pants.”

  She pressed her lips together as she thought about it. He would win, of course, because he was bigger, stronger, and very determined to take her down a few notches. But she sure as hell didn’t want to make it easy for him.

  “I wish you’d trust me,” she said, hand on her hip.

  “There’ve been a lot of lies coming from your direction, and until you come clean I’m afraid I can’t,” he replied, surprised as she made a couple of fists and stomped her foot. Another turn on for him that he didn’t know about. He tried to hide his grin as he waited for her compliance.

  “I just don’t like other people in my business. I want to serve my country. Do my duty. Be a part of something bigger than myself. Why do you have to know every little detail of my past?”

  “Because you hid it, probably,” Connor answered. “Which makes me and Dr. Yas and everyone else wonder why? And what else are you hiding?”

  Burton plopped down on the footlocker across from him.

  “Am I going to get approved for combat?” she quietly asked, looking directly at him.

  Sighing, he stood up and pulled her to her feet.

  “Of course you will. So let’s just get there one step at a time,” he said, sitting down again and unbuckling her belt. She didn’t fight him, just squirmed and looked away, so he continued. “We’ll start with you following my orders, then passing your psych evals, and then we’ll end with your apology to Dr. Yas.”

  “That quack isn’t getting a damned thing from me except my fist up his ass,” she replied, swallowing as he gently tugged her camo pants over her hips. Christ, this was so embarrassing, but that was the idea, wasn’t it?

  Connor tried to hold in his grin at her audacity when it came to the well-respected Dr. Yas, but soon lost focus as he gently applied the cream to the horrible bruise on her leg. She sucked in a breath when he applied too much pressure, so he continued as lightly as he could. When he finished, as usual, she quickly pulled her pants back up and turned her back on him as she arranged herself.

  She tried to take a step towards the door, but he was up and behind her, gripping her shoulder tightly.

  “You will have to apologize to Dr. Yas if I have to say anything about it,” he quietly commanded, swatting her ass a little harder than he had before and then opening the door with a paint splattered hand so she could walk out. The stunned yet indignant look on her face as she walked past him said it all.

  Beer and Soul

  Family Weekend descended upon the base the next day, which meant visitors and children and loved ones all around. Baylor had volunteered to assist with the little festival they put on since her loved ones wouldn’t be showing up. It was also another reason to hang out with Connor, if she was completely honest with herself. She’d spent the day inflating balloons and setting up game booths to entertain the kids, then she’d gotten a booth assignment from Reyes and prepared herself in the locker room of the large, open gymnasium.

  “I swear to God if you say one damn word I am going to strangle you with your goggles,” Burton muttered, walking past Connor as they all gathered in the hall to finish up the last preparations before the party started an hour later. Connor had drawn his booth assignment like the other officers and his slip of paper only said ‘bathing suit.’ The dunking booth, of course.

  The girls tried not to stare. He was looking incredibly hot in his red life guard swim trunks and nothing else but goggles on his forehead.

  Burton went to the beer booth and grabbed a case of beer cans to sell to spectators for the tricycle races, carrying them outside as the lights switched on and brightly lit the track. She poured flour for the starting/finish line, grabbed a beer, plopped behind the stacks of hay that marked the course boundaries and drank. It was cold and it was good. She couldn’t remember the last time a beer had tasted so good.

  Well, that wasn’t entirely true. At the end of a long day of classes and studying she would go and meet her boyfriend at a little pub and have a pint of something light and refreshing. That boyfriend turned out to be a total asshole but the memory of relaxing with him in a dark mahogany booth was still a pleasant one.

  “Can I please say something?” Connor asked, leaning over the hay and grabbing a beer for himself.

  She jumped and looked up at him in her reddish pig tails with big white bows and replied, “If you’re into being strangled, then be my guest.”

  “What’s wrong with what you picked? This is like the best booth to run. It’s the most fun,” he said, hopping over and joining her on the ground. He leaned his head back and drank, the same look of delight on his face that she had on hers.

  “I look like a little kid,” she said, throwing the beer back and furrowing her brow.

  “Isn’t that the point?” he asked, scratching his washboard abs as he drank.

  Burton stared as his hand rubbed across his six pack. She found herself wondering what his stomach felt like. She’d always dated guys who were smart and funny but not really into conditioning their bodies. And his was incredible. She shook her head and frowned over at him.

  “No! Everyone else gets to look all sexy and I have to look like the eternal child on a damn tricycle!”

  “Not everyone gets to look sexy. Have you seen Manes in the lederhosen?” Connor asked, finishing his beer and smiling over at her.

  Burton let out a short laugh and shook her head. Then, she reached over and grabbed a couple of more beers. She didn’t want him to leave.

  “Did you go to college?” she asked him, jerking her hand with his beer back as he reached for it. He’d have to work for this one.

  “I went to West Point when I got ba
ck from my tour in Afghanistan,” he grinned, waiting for the beer. Why was she asking him about college? He’d asked her enough about her past, so he guessed she deserved to know a little bit about him.

  “Whoa, that’s hard core,” she said, trying to do the math in her head but coming up short since the beer was fuzzying everything up.

  Connor sighed and said, “I was working for a while at my dad’s car shop before I enlisted after September 11th. That makes me thirty-six, in case you were wondering.”

  “I wasn’t wondering,” she quickly responded, still holding the beer. “I was just curious to see if you had the normal college experience. You know, before they cracked down on the partying.”

  “They?”

  “Yeah, you know—The Man.”

  “What do you know about that?” he grinned. What was she getting at, anyway?

  To his surprise, she pulled out a pocket knife and cut open the bottom sides of each can.

  “Have you ever shot gunned a beer?” she grinned, handing him a can. That was totally not what he was expecting, and he realized that he liked how she was full of surprises.

  He didn’t want to disappoint her, though, by going all captain on her. He took the can against his better judgment.

  “I’m the world champ of shot gunning beer,” he smirked. “Do you think it was all fight and no fun at West Point?”

  “Let’s see then, champ,” she said, holding the beer to her lips and cracking open the top. Connor did the same, and they chugged until both of their eyes watered and both cans were emptied. After a series of burps, they turned to each other.

  “Draw,” he said, slowly standing up.

  “Rematch later then,” Burton said, standing up in her short plaid jumper with a white shirt, white knee-high socks, and tennis shoes. She pointed at Connor. “Don’t say anything!”

  He bit his lip as he looked back inside, but he couldn’t resist. She’d be mad, but he kind of liked making her mad.

  “You look so cute,” he said, leaping over the hay and jogging inside.

  “Yeah, well you look like David Hasselhoff!” she called, cursing to herself. She exhaled as she peered inside the hall, then began setting up the tricycles behind the starting line. She brushed back one of her pigtails and waited as people from the base began flooding in. Her event was at the very beginning, so she had to be ready as people gathered around.

  The racers from each unit squat down on the lined up tricycles, their teammates holding beer cans at the ready. Baylor explained the rules before standing in front of the gathering mass. Everyone leaned over the hay and screamed and cheered for the poor people peddling with everything they had on their tricycles. As the racers peddled in the tight circles more and more tricycles were ramming into the bales of hay. The winner was declared over cheering and clapping.

  Everyone filed inside as Burton slid off of the hay stacks and rested on the seat of a tricycle. That was exhausting. Music played from inside the hall and she slowly stood to go inside. She timidly walked in, looking around as the crowd proceeded to the booths and had fun for once on the base. Unfortunately, the only people she knew were in her unit and they were all with family or working. It was hard for her to meet new people since she found that the ones she did try and meet turned out to not really like her. So she turned to walk back outside and wait. She didn’t mind sitting alone in the least bit.

  “Private,” the major greeted her, standing in the large entryway with the 2 men in suits flanking him.

  She immediately stood at attention and saluted him, and after his returned salute she dropped her hands to her sides and waited for further instruction. He always had a knowing smile for her which made her wonder what he was thinking, but that night his smile was more curious. Probably the dumb costume.

  “Agents Eubanks and Payne,” he said in way of an introduction, stepping aside. The two suits nodded at her without changing their expressions or taking their eyes off of her. Just staring. They were kind of creepy.

  Assholes, she thought.

  “How do you do, sir,” she addressed each of them very formally, shaking their hands strongly.

  Eubanks slowly said, “Forgive me, but, which private?”

  “The high school dropout, sir,” she smiled, cocking her head. In her mind, she felt better keeping up that particular lie. Then people wouldn’t look twice at her. She wished they’d dismiss her and let her go and sit in the dark outside.

  “Baylor Burton,” Major Taylor said for her.

  Eubanks seemed surprised as he looked her up and down. His expression revealed he was trying to recover something from his memory.

  Payne gave his partner a serious look and Eubanks finally nodded his head and leaned in towards Major Taylor, quietly saying something. The Major agreed with whatever they said and then nodded at Burton as the pair quickly departed.

  “Excuse me, Private. Enjoy the party,” Major Taylor nodded, as they stood in the doorway.

  “What?” she said, quickly saluting and looking at him with a puzzled face. “You too, sir.”

  He disappeared into the festival confusion as she stood in the entryway, holding out her hands and shrugging her shoulders. And everyone wondered why she didn’t want to lead. Leaders were perplexing and so mysterious. She liked everything to be cut and dry.

  O’Malley suddenly appeared on the small hay bale and took the bullhorn, rounding up people who might have been outside the hall.

  “Ladies and gentlemen!” she enthusiastically said. “The competition is not over! Inside we have the costume contest and later the coveted karaoke contest starting in only thirty minutes! We have five willing officers ready to judge the next big thing in music, so please sign up at the DJ booth and be ready to rock!”

  She lowered the bullhorn as people scattered and grabbed Burton’s shoulder.

  “It’s music time, baby.”

  Baylor laughed and cracked open another beer and drank in dark silence as the crowd died down. Family weekend seemed to be a good idea. Spirits were high and morale had followed. And she had to admit, even though they’d made her dress like a kid, the trike races had been a hit. She guessed she should go on inside and watch the music contest.

  “What are you doing out here in the dark?”

  She jumped to her feet and sighed when the dim lights caught Connor’s face. He was wet, of course, and rubbing a towel all over his half-naked body. Dunking booth.

  “Nothing,” she replied in a high voice, looking around.

  “Got another one of those for me?” he grunted, sitting down on the hay bale next to her. She complied and watched as he took a long pull. “Where’s the fam-damily?”

  “Busy,” she replied, leaning back and staring up at the gray clouds patched across the dark sky. “Yours?”

  “This is about you, not me.”

  “Oh, what, I can’t ask you questions?”

  “Ask what you will but I won’t answer until I get a straight story from you.”

  “Whatever, Connor,” she sighed, suddenly finding herself propelled through the air and perched atop the Captain’s lap. He was staring her directly in the eye. He was damp and cold from the dunking booth. His heated focus was completely on her. The varying sensations left her off-balance.

  “Baylor,” he leadingly said, loving how she only half-heartedly squirmed on his lap. Inappropriate? Sure, but everything was becoming an off-books operation when it came to Baylor Burton.

  The hand holding her bare thigh was all too warm and large, but the eyes staring into hers really troubled her. She would spill everything if she wasn’t careful.

  “You don’t have to hide,” he whispered, noting the look in her eyes.

  Carefully, slowly, she took his hand off of her leg and held it. Why? She didn’t really know. It was like him, though: big, strong, rough, but gentle. She glanced up at the heated look in his eyes and quickly pushed off of him.

  “I have to go,” she called, running around the back of the bu
ilding at full speed and diving into the ladies’ room. Cowardly? Yes, and she wasn’t proud of it. After a few minutes of muttering to herself to get it together, she took a deep breath and found her composure. He’d touched her, held her, and what did she do? She ran away.

  She cracked the bathroom door as the sounds of a party dying down began. No one was anywhere near, so she walked out and around the side of the small stage. She could make it back to her barracks, go to bed, and hopefully dream about what it was like sitting on his lap.

  She didn’t want to have those kinds of feelings about him, but she did and it made her very concerned. Her mind drifted back to sitting in his lap and looking into his eyes, and then to the closet kiss they’d shared.

  “Burton.”

  She let out a short, startled cry and fell back against a stack of boxes as poor Connor jerked back in surprise, too.

  She quickly fumbled around and stood up, giving him a variety of looks ranging from sheer horror to complete confusion. Not able to find anything plausible to say to him, she quickly cursed and turned and ran away. Again.

  Connor stood there momentarily, perplexed and hesitant to follow the distressed private. He checked his watch and realized that they were running late to see Major Taylor, so against his better judgment he ran after her.

  “Burton!” he said with urgency. She paused at a doorway and flipped around, pressing back against the white wall. She closed her eyes tightly.

  “Captain, I… I didn’t see you there.”

  “Burton,” he began, holding up his hand. Her short skirt swept around her legs in the wind. Suddenly he was desperately trying to get her sexy and extremely erotic image out of his head.

  “I am so sorry for,” she huffed, not really able to find any words. She was an idiot. She should just apologize for that.

  “Burton!” he interrupted, holding her shoulder. “We need to go right now.”

  She gave him a confused look so he repeated the order in a louder and more serious tone. He had instructed Reyes to help the other girls break down the booths, and he led Burton out into the night.