Sophia Sasson - The Sergeant's Temptation

She nodded. “Thank you for going easy on me yesterday, Sergeant.” Rodgers was three years younger than her but the same rank. Experience had taught her that men didn’t like to be beaten by a woman and it was advantageous to put them at ease. A little trick she’d learned from her mother.

“I didn’t go easy on you. In fact, I gave it my best. You won fair and square, and I don’t mind admitting it.”

This is a first. “I appreciate that, Sergeant.”

“Call me Dylan or Rodgers. We’re equals. In fact, Luke isn’t into formalities—he wants us to call each other by first or last names. The point of this unit is to not follow our traditional training.”

“And why is that?” Despite her preparation for the assessment, she knew very little about the unit or its mission. Lieutenant Williams, Luke, had given her nothing. The papers she’d signed didn’t even have a designation for the unit.

“We are like secret internal investigators for the army,” Rodgers explained. “There have been some issues with treason, but we can’t seem to get to the root of the problem because we’re fighting an enemy within, one who knows how we work. There might even be some Special Forces involvement, which is why none of the unit members are Delta. Ethan started this no-rank business—he didn’t want the enemy to know how we operate, so first thing he wanted us to do was stop thinking like army grunts.”

Alessa couldn’t help but smile. She’d fit in perfectly.

“Did Ethan hire you?”

He nodded. “I was one of the first, so I’ve pretty much done all the jobs on this unit. You’re the sixth, but I understand you’re filling the logistics position.” He shot her a quizzical glance.

“Yes I am, Sergeant—I mean, Rodgers.”

“That makes no sense to me.”

She raised a brow. “Me neither. But it was either this or nothing at all.”

He shrugged. “My guess is it was Colonel McBride. Luke can’t stand up to him the way Ethan did.”

Aren’t you just a fountain of information. “How come?”

“He’s still feeling his way. Only got the gig because of General Williams. McBride wanted to put his own man in, so he’s looking for a reason to get rid of Luke. This unit was Ethan’s baby.”

“What’s your impression of Lieutenant...of Luke as a leader?”

Rodgers shrugged. “It’s too early to tell. He’s not his brother, that’s for sure, and that’s been hard on the unit. He looks just like Ethan, talks like him, but he’s a different man.”

“How so?”

“He’s not regulation army.”

“Didn’t you just say it’s not supposed to be?”

“Yeah, but he’s not an army man. The rest of us are here because we love the military, and we believe in the mission of this unit. Before Ethan died, he was lamenting the fact that Luke was quitting. So why take over his brother’s unit?”

“Because he wants to complete Ethan’s mission?”

Rodgers shook his head. “They weren’t tight like that. Anyhow, I’ve said too much to the newbie. Part of the training... We’ve been encouraged to fight our instincts. Do what doesn’t come naturally and be more transparent—whatever that means.”

He led her through a maze of boxes and random equipment, then opened a door to the area they’d been in yesterday. Luke wasn’t in his office. Rodgers stopped outside a door marked Men and went inside. Alessa followed.

“Heads-up.” Rodgers yelled, and Alessa averted her gaze as four men in various stages of undress quickly pulled on clothes and slapped on towels.

“This is Alessa Parrino.” He turned to her. “What do you prefer to be called?”

“Parrino is fine.”

“You the one who kicked his baby bottom yesterday?” one of the men asked.

Rodgers took it in stride. “Yep, so I’d watch myself if I were you guys. She’s mightier than she looks.”

Each of the men stood in turn and introduced himself. The tall African American man showing off a set of perfect abs over low-slung jeans was Boots. The baby-faced man with freckles on his nose and a mop of curly red hair was Steele, the dark-haired, dark-eyed man with a pockmarked face was Dan, and the skinny man with the easy smile was Dimples. They each gave her a hard handshake with a warm welcome in their eyes. She also noted that they were all around her age.

“There’s no women’s locker room. You’re welcome to use ours or use the bathroom in Luke’s office while we’re here.”

“What, Luke doesn’t have a nickname?”

The men looked at each other. “Not one he knows about.”

Alessa put a hand on her hip. “Out with it. Remember, I’m the one who’ll be planning where you stay and what you eat.”

The men exchanged another round of glances.

“All right, then, roach-infested motels and MREs it is,” Alessa said, crossing her arms.

Rodgers held up his hand. “It’s Fabio.”

Alessa laughed and the men joined in. “That’s perfect for him.” While Luke’s golden locks were cropped short, he had the kind of swoon-worthy looks that could grace the covers of romance novels. With his playboy reputation, the name fit.

“What do you guys think of Colonel McBride?” If the collective nose-scrunching and eye-rolling was anything to go on, they felt the same way about the colonel as she did.

“That guy really needs to retire. But the only way he’s leaving the army is if he’s six feet under,” Steele muttered. They all nodded their agreement. These were good men, and Alessa felt a frisson of excitement roll through her. This was what she loved about the army, the camaraderie and feeling of being part of a team. “Do you have a nickname for him?” she asked.

“Nothing that’s stuck.” Dimples spoke for the group.

“I’ve got one.” Alessa smiled. “Black Tag.”

There was a beat, then the room filled with roaring laughter. In disaster triage, medics and doctors were taught to tag people according to the severity of their illnesses or injuries. Red tags for those who needed urgent care, black tags for those who couldn’t be saved or were already dead.

“That’s just perfect. Something goes down, that old coot is the first one I’m leaving behind.” Rodgers hooted.

And just like that, Alessa was one of them. No matter how “un-army” Luke wanted the unit to be, nothing changed the fact that Luke was their immediate commanding officer and the enlisted would band together.

Rodgers took her to a cubicle and motioned for her to sit. He handed her a piece of paper. “Here’s your computer login and password. Unit ships out in a month. The stack of files there is the equipment and transport we need, and a list of lodging options. I’ll be in the training pit with the other guys—come get me if you have a question.”

“Let me know if you need any help. Training, that is.” She wiggled her brows and Rodgers laughed.

“Guess I deserve that.” He turned, then stopped and looked back at her. “I am sorry Black Tag screwed you. You should be in the pit with us. The guys know it, too. Once we get in the field, things will be different.”

He wouldn’t say more, but Alessa smiled. If the men respected her, they would let her help on ops. Being in theatre was very different than being on post. At her rank, in combat, she commanded a small squad of men and women. On post she fetched coffee.

All day, she kept an eye on Luke’s office, but it remained empty. The men ordered pizza for lunch and invited her to eat with them in the pit, which was their term for the warehouse-like space with the Plexiglas box in the center. The ten by ten foot box had been set up for training exercises, and it was where she had fought Rodgers. She didn’t ask where Luke was and none of them commented on his absence. They talked easily about Fort Belvoir and gave her tips on what to avoid if she ate at the mess hall.