Sexual intercourse with a civilian was, in our world, tantamount to hiring a hooker. Although it was a well-known fact Academy cadets enjoyed dipping their beaks into the murky waters of the civilian pond on occasion (during those weekend passes). You’d just better be extremely careful. We were screened for illness and disease every month like clockwork. So the younger and more “pure” a civilian girl, the more desirable she was amongst male cadets—for entertainment purposes only. No sort of long-standing relationship or mating would be permitted.
There were a thousand-and-one Academy jokes about how easy it was to get a civilian girl in the sack. They were as common as blonde jokes around these parts. According to Ranger, it was as easy as “shooting fish in a barrel.” I glanced over at his smug mug with an open look of distaste.
Ranger winked at me across the table. “So . . . she was a wild one, was she?”
I tried not to notice the discomfit that sprang to Reese’s face, and to tune Ranger out. But that was easier said than done when his smirk was spreading like a stain across his filthy mouth. It was the same one he wore two weeks ago when he was imparting last words of wisdom. They were real gems: “Have fun but use condom sense,” he’d said before tossing something at my head and slamming out the door. I reflexively caught the small item of insignificant weight then immediately flung it into the trash. How juvenile and lame—how Ranger.
I recalled how hard he fought to be the operative on this mission. How I wished at the time they would’ve just let him. I was still surprised he hadn’t been able to persuade Weston. He had more field experience and was also scientifically tested to be a good match. A sick feeling wormed in my gut at the thought of Ranger trying to shoot for Kate like she was another fish. That, coupled with the way he was regaling Reese with inaccurate tales about Kate’s “psychotic behavior,” had me clamping my jaw shut to keep in the thoughts that were trying to form into words.
Had to play it cool, not show a weak spot for her. But I felt twin spots of heat flare along my cheekbones, despite my best efforts at reining it in. Reese noticed and something passed across her lovely Nordic features before she caught herself. I concentrated on slowing down my breathing, like I’d been trained to do since starting the program at the tender age of two.
Like a menacing maestro, Weston raised a hand for silence. Ranger about-faced, and Reese zipped her lips so quick you’d think a gun had gone off.
“Cadet Davenport, I’ve obviously been briefed on the preliminary results of The Connelly Mission, and must say—I’m disappointed. I thought you’d have this one all sewed up by now.” Weston gave me one of his looks aimed at withering self-confidence. “Unless you’re hiding the signed documents under your uniform as I speak . . .” He paused long enough to allow me to dutifully shake my head.
“Then I need to know what the hell is taking so long,” he demanded. “This should’ve been a one to two-week mission, tops. The longer it takes for a family to sign the paperwork becomes exponentially that much harder for them to make the decision at all. It’s not easy to get them to go through with our unorthodox terms and actually sign on the dotted line. So you have to strike while the iron is hot, while the thrill and the honor of our prestigious organization knocking on their plywood door is still running rampant in their wee small-town hearts.” Weston’s exaggerated gestures and speech came to an abrupt halt.
My turn. “I’m getting closer sir, but I’ve recently had a setback . . .”
Weston gavel-banged solid oak with his fist. It was a testament to years of self-control training that no one flinched. “Closer doesn’t amount to a hill-of-beans in this game. I want that PGC signed up and ready to ship out in a week’s time. Setback or no setback!”
“Honestly, it may take more than a week now, sir,” I said.
“What exactly is the hold up? Honestly.”
“It’s the Connelly girl, sir. I’ve recently had to contain her, and she’s pretty upset with me at the moment.”
“She has proven resistant,” Weston acknowledged. “But we knew going in she would be our greatest challenge. Isn’t that precisely what you’re for?” He indicated me with an expansive hand.
Ranger’s smirk morphed into a sneer.
I shifted in my seat. “Civilian Connelly doesn’t follow the normal pattern of behavior for civilian girls. She’s . . . stubborn and highly resistant to the idea of her beloved eight-year-old brother being sent away.”
“And so the irresistible Peter Davenport has proven resistible after all.” Somehow Weston came off sounding amused by this bit of news.
Ranger lifted half a lip.
“She’s smarter than we gave her credit for,” I allowed.
“So she’s a clever girl. Are you not a hundred times cleverer? If not, then we’ll have to reassess our whole program.” Weston chuckled, turning to his panel for support before swinging back my way. “You admire her?”
I lifted a shoulder. “Not really.”
“It’s no use denying it. It comes off in your tone when you talk about her. When you say stubborn, you may as well have said sublime.”
Reese’s hand fluttered to smooth back an imaginary hair that strayed from her chignon.
Damn. “I guess Civilian Connelly has moral standards I admire,” I admitted to a lesser charge.
Ranger loudly guffawed. Reese shifted in her seat. Davies remained impassive. Weston made a growling noise as if I were speaking nonsense.
“Morals?” he spat out like a dirty word. “Let me tell you something about civilians’ morals, my dear boy—they are like those plastic rulers they give to schoolchildren—easily bent to the point of breaking if need be. And civilian girls are shallower than a puddle of piss. You have the looks, the car, the smarts, the breeding,” he counted off, seeming to run out of adjectives before fingers. “Don’t tell me this civilian girl is impervious to all your assets?” He raised caterpillar brows. “Maybe you need a booster shot?”
Ranger risked a chortle at that one.
I didn’t even deign a glance. “Civilian Connelly’s moral code is more important to her than external trappings. She is unlike most teenagers in that sense. Therefore, I need to take it slowly or else risk scaring her away completely.”
Weston turned his outrage on Reese like this was partially her fault that he hadn’t received his shiny new toy yet. “I see from your reports, Cadet Caruthers, that the girl does indeed fancy your own Cadet Davenport,” he goaded out of frustration. “What do you think is the hold up from a female’s perspective?”
Reese cleared her throat lightly like one does before giving a long, rehearsed speech. “Civilian Connelly has led a sheltered life, and is therefore, naturally cautious around outsiders. It took much longer for Ryan and me to win her over than anticipated.” She paused to emphasize her point: it wasn’t only Cadet Davenport having trouble making Civilian Connelly cooperate with their agenda. “She also has deeply entrenched religious beliefs, and would be reluctant to shed those beliefs in the course of two weeks. I agree with Cadet Davenport’s gradual approach in regards to her courtship . . .”