Spice & Raspberry Wine
by sarAdora ~~~~~~~~~~
Thanking his assistant, Alina, for the fresh carafe of coffee, he told her he didn't want to be disturbed and when the door closed behind her, Eric turned to his computer. He tapped into the Bureau's personnel files, keying in Morgan's name and waited, hoping she wasn't a part of the secretary pool. Wouldn't the deputy director have a ball with that? he grimaced.
Her name came up along with her FBI I.D. and that was all. No picture, no particulars on what she did, no floor location, no immediate supervisor, and no personal information. He didn't find an address, a phone number, or whether she was male or female. What the hell? Then he noticed the small red flag on the corner of the screen. A locked file? Red level security clearance?
He went back to the first screen and typed in his security clearance number. When his encrypted password was accepted, he typed Morgan's name in a second time. The file opened, much to his relief. It was short lived. Still no picture, no information on what she did and no floor location, but she did report to the Director himself.
He drummed his fingers on the desk and thought for a moment. How many people skip the chain of command and report directly to the Director? Not many. Her personal information remained a mystery and that, too, raised alarms in his mind. The phone rang, interrupting his thoughts.
"The special agent in charge of personnel security on line 2, sir," Alina informed him. "Says it's urgent."
"Thank you, Alina," Eric sighed, taking a sip of coffee for fortification before listening to one more rant about something one of his own agents had done to insult the FBI's intelligence.
"Cleveland," he answered and listened to the voice on the phone, his fist tightening around the receiver at what he heard. "Yes, I understand," he said quietly with just a hint of belligerence. "Since when does someone in my position need permission to access high security level files?" He listened some more and then ran out of patience.
"No, I will *not* come to your office. If you want to tell me what this is all about, *you* can come to mine. Right about now will do. If I don't see you walking through my door in say... 15 minutes, I'll be walking through the Director's door!"
The head of security was good at what he did. He was also a former marine drill instructor. Eric Cleveland was a green recruit fresh off of Parris Island as far as he was concerned. He extended the man the courtesy of going to his office not because the former D.I. was a courteous person, but because the man in the office was an assistant director of the FBI.
"I'm listening," Eric said as Special Agent Hollis walked in.
Hollis didn't mince words. "Do you remember the incident about a year ago when Senator Winthrope's son was killed?"
Eric nodded. "The killer was his lover, a guy bigger than the Winthrope kid. Stabbed him, I think."
"Yeah, that's the one," Hollis confirmed. "You know he was killed too, don't you?"
"Yeah, but I don't recall how that happened. You going to fill me in?"
"Can I get a cup of that java, first? I've been here all night."
"Sure," Eric replied, and feeling less belligerent, poured a fresh cup into a clean mug for the man, then gestured for him to sit.
"Thanks," Hollis sighed as the first few swallows warmed his throat.
"The kid and his lover had a condo in Arlington, They had a lover's quarrel, apparently a bad one. The lover fucks him, then stabs him and gets scared and takes off. He stops in a couple of bars, gets tanked and ends up in DC. Now, he's fuckin loony-tunes and attacks a couple of teenage boys somewhere around the Lincoln Memorial - beats them up pretty bad. He staggers around and ends up walking along the Wall, harassing the folks walking there, making snide remarks, punching a few. Well, one of the folks was this little bit of a woman, about 5 feet-5 inches tall, hundred - ten pounds soaking wet and a beauty to boot." He stopped to take a breath and sip his coffee. "According to witnesses, he gets in her face and tells her he hasn't fucked a broad in years and he was going to fuck her. Now this son of a bitch is over six feet tall, probably weighs two hundred forty pounds. The lady backs away from him and he goes after her, pulling her jacket off, ripping her skirt and pushing her against the Wall."
"And the tourists? What did they do?"
"What? You think it was a Disney movie? Nothing, nada, nobody lifts a finger. The babe's on her own."
"What happened next?" Eric asked quietly, certain he'd hear that Morgan had been raped.
Out of nowhere, she lifts her knee, he sees stars, and goes down. Does the little bit of fluff scream, faint, run away? Hell, no! She kicks him in the balls over and over and about the time the average eyewitness would say the perp's never gonna sire kids, she kicks him in the jugular a couple times. By the time the DCPD shows up, he's dead and she's leaning against the Wall, staring at him."
"She was in shock," Eric said quietly, having a hard time picturing Morgan in a rage.
"Uh-huh," Hollis agreed. "They take her statement, they take eyewitness statements, and they take her to the station. She's shaking pretty bad. An officer puts his arm around her to escort her to a chair so she can fill in some details and she turns on him and socks him in the jaw. According to the report, she's got a hell of a right hook. My guess is she was aiming for the jugular and missed.
"What happened next?" Eric was clenching and unclenching his fists, trying to remain calm.
"It was pretty obvious to everyone that she was still reacting to the scene at the Wall. The officer didn't press any charges, but he jokingly asked her if she wanted a job in law enforcement - training the guys how to fight like a woman.
Eric snorted. "Then what?"
"Well, it was the damndest thing. They're still sitting in the public area - hadn't had a chance to go into an interrogation room or nothing and another perp is brought in for questioning. Man, that fucker must have sprung from a gorilla. Big, ugly, and mean. He takes one look at our little lady and charges. He throws his arms over her back - he's handcuffed - and starts to squeeze the living shit out of her. Before the cops can get the fucker away from her, he lets out a low moan, goes limp and falls, dragging the woman down with him.
"Heart attack? Stroke?" Eric asked.
"No, nothing that boring. The little bit of fluff must have been an Amazon in a previous life or... was trained to fight to kill from an early age. She stuck her small hand down the guy's pants, grabbed his balls, twisted and pulled! I guarantee those twin gems ain't gonna be of any use to the man again."
Eric grimaced, touched his crotch and took a harsh breath. And I told her not to be afraid of me, he thought with some irony.
"Why did he attack her?"
"Well, that's why her file requires a high security clearance level.
"The guy recognized her - something that shouldn't have happened."
"Morgan Woodehouse has been working for us since she got out of grad school. She's a profiler. Not any kind of profiler, one that specializes in child abuse. The whole gambit - abuse, abduction, seduction, you name it. She's fingered more abusers than the entire unit did before she came on board. And she's got a reputation for sharp and quick work. Once in a while, she goes on a stakeout with the agents and that pretty much was a mistake. Two of the macho agents put the moves on her. She declined. They got persistent. She declined a little more firmly. They got nasty and pushy and a little physical and to make a long story short, both had to have the family jewels repaired." Hollis choked on a laugh. "You ask me, the lady could do us a world of good at Quantico."
Good God! Eric didn't know if he should laugh or just thank the good Lord he'd been lucky.
"Anyway, she was standing outside the FBI surveillance van when the medics came for the agents..." Hollis paused, letting that thought sink in. " And the perp who attacked her in the police station was the same guy she had fingered for a really nasty child abduction/homicide. He didn't know who she was until his court date and then recognized her in the police station."
"He wasn't locked up?"
"Out on megabucks bail."
"Where is he now?"
"In the pokey."
"The rest of the story, Mr. Hollis."
"She did serious damage to the gorilla, but she took a few licks herself. When he threw his hands over her back, they were handcuffed. He squeezed her hard, crushed a few ribs, damaged her liver and a kidney. When they got her to the ER, they discovered one of her lungs had partially collapsed and there was some minor damage to her spine - vertebra or disc or something. After a couple of surgeries and a hell of a lot of physical therapy, she's pretty much okay now. But from what I hear, she's been on the road back to recovery for a hell of a long time."
Eric nodded. That's what she meant when she said she was getting back in shape.
"Senator Winthrope was grateful to our gal for killing his son's lover, no trial, minimal publicity, that kind of stuff and asked the Director for a favor. The big man agreed she needed more security. She's damn good at what she does and he didn't want to lose her. Assigned round-the-clock security for her at the hospital and at home until she was able to come to work. He also had her file locked - away from curious eyes - and she reports directly to him. Anyone goes looking for her file, we get an alert. End of story."
Eric pursed his lips. It made sense. "Where does she work?"
"Why do you want to know, Mr. Cleveland?" Hollis raised his brows.
"The lady and I met at the gym. I'm interested in pursuing a friendly relationship. I can ask her where she works, but I'd rather not for the moment."
"Then you can wait till she tells you herself," Hollis said firmly.
"Humor me," the AD said in his voice of command.
Hollis grinned, recognizing the tone and rose to his feet to leave. "Basement, 2nd sub-level, Mr. Cleveland."
Eric watched him close the door and thought he'd go visit the basement. As he pushed the elevator button to go down, he smacked his forehead. "No such place as 2nd sub-level. Damnit!"