Stanley Porter, chief of the Midwest division of Homeland Security’s counterterrorism
division (CTD). Porter had been tasked with creating smaller, more action-oriented subsets of the larger departments. Hicks,
after showing extraordinary leadership during the recent Hakeem Qasim manhunt, had been pegged to head up the new Denver-based
CTD Front Range Response Team.
At first Hicks had balked. He was an ops guy, not a suit, he had said to them. In his mind, rules were there simply as a guideline for the less creative. But when
Porter told him the amount of autonomy he would have in running his team, he had actually begun to consider the leadership
position. Finally, Hicks had accepted on the condition that he could choose his own people. Scott and Khadi had been obvious
choices.
As for the analysts, he’d left that to Scott. The gang of misfits his number-two man had brought in were an odd bunch, and
Hicks figured the less direct contact he had with them, the more peace would reign.
But now he had to go out and face this group, and he had no idea what to do with them. He could lead any team into battle
with strength and confidence. But this was a whole new ball game.
Taking a deep breath, Hicks opened his office door and walked into the very first meeting with his new team. Scott, seeing
him come out, began clapping. The four analysts, apparently recognizing a chance to burn off some of their sugar calories,
took it to the next level by standing and cheering. Khadi and Tara just sat there shaking their heads, although Khadi at least
did it with a smile.
Hicks took his chair at the head of the table and, after Scott finally got the analysts to sit back down, said, “Okay, that
will never happen again.”
“Sorry, Jim,” said Scott with a mocking grin on his face. “I guess we’re all just a little enthusiastic.”
“Well, enthusiasm can be a good thing when it’s directed properly,” Hicks responded, immediately realizing that he was already
sounding like the stuffed-shirt political bureaucrat he was afraid of becoming.
Khadi stifled a laugh, and Hicks glared at her, though he softened his look when he spotted the slowly fading scar on her
cheek that she didn’t bother trying to cover with makeup.
He continued, “I want to welcome you all to the Front Range Response Team.”
Hernandez, Cline, Williamson, and Gooey all started to giggle.
“What’s so funny?” Hicks called out, his nerves causing his already short fuse to burn at double time.
Tara Walsh responded for them. “Sorry, sir, but about an hour ago they finally figured out our team’s acronym, and they’ve
been this way ever since.”
“Coulda been worse. What if we were the Bureau for Uncovering Terrorist Threats?” Williamson said innocently, causing the
other three analysts to burst out laughing.
Hicks turned to Scott for some help, but his right-hand man was looking intently at the glass tabletop and drawing on every
ounce of self-control to not laugh. He looked at Khadi, who had her hands folded properly in front of her and was sporting
a huge grin on her face. Tara was staring at him with an expression that said, “ See what I have to put up with every day?”
Finally, Scott jumped in. “Come on, gang, knock it off. Jim is trying to speak.”
“Thanks, Scott. Now I—”
“And I certainly don’t want anyone suggesting the Departmentally Utilized Military Bureau and Systems—”
“Scott!” Jim yelled.
Everyone lost it. Even Tara joined in. Hicks leaned back into his chair, heaved a deep sigh, and then slowly began to chuckle.
His laughter built up momentum until he was wiping tears away from his eyes like everyone else.
All the stress and anxiety Hicks had about his new position was released at that moment. He raised his hand, trying to get
control of the group even as he struggled to get control of himself.
“Okay, everyone, enough. Let’s have a little chat.”
As Hicks
division (CTD). Porter had been tasked with creating smaller, more action-oriented subsets of the larger departments. Hicks,
after showing extraordinary leadership during the recent Hakeem Qasim manhunt, had been pegged to head up the new Denver-based
CTD Front Range Response Team.
At first Hicks had balked. He was an ops guy, not a suit, he had said to them. In his mind, rules were there simply as a guideline for the less creative. But when
Porter told him the amount of autonomy he would have in running his team, he had actually begun to consider the leadership
position. Finally, Hicks had accepted on the condition that he could choose his own people. Scott and Khadi had been obvious
choices.
As for the analysts, he’d left that to Scott. The gang of misfits his number-two man had brought in were an odd bunch, and
Hicks figured the less direct contact he had with them, the more peace would reign.
But now he had to go out and face this group, and he had no idea what to do with them. He could lead any team into battle
with strength and confidence. But this was a whole new ball game.
Taking a deep breath, Hicks opened his office door and walked into the very first meeting with his new team. Scott, seeing
him come out, began clapping. The four analysts, apparently recognizing a chance to burn off some of their sugar calories,
took it to the next level by standing and cheering. Khadi and Tara just sat there shaking their heads, although Khadi at least
did it with a smile.
Hicks took his chair at the head of the table and, after Scott finally got the analysts to sit back down, said, “Okay, that
will never happen again.”
“Sorry, Jim,” said Scott with a mocking grin on his face. “I guess we’re all just a little enthusiastic.”
“Well, enthusiasm can be a good thing when it’s directed properly,” Hicks responded, immediately realizing that he was already
sounding like the stuffed-shirt political bureaucrat he was afraid of becoming.
Khadi stifled a laugh, and Hicks glared at her, though he softened his look when he spotted the slowly fading scar on her
cheek that she didn’t bother trying to cover with makeup.
He continued, “I want to welcome you all to the Front Range Response Team.”
Hernandez, Cline, Williamson, and Gooey all started to giggle.
“What’s so funny?” Hicks called out, his nerves causing his already short fuse to burn at double time.
Tara Walsh responded for them. “Sorry, sir, but about an hour ago they finally figured out our team’s acronym, and they’ve
been this way ever since.”
“Coulda been worse. What if we were the Bureau for Uncovering Terrorist Threats?” Williamson said innocently, causing the
other three analysts to burst out laughing.
Hicks turned to Scott for some help, but his right-hand man was looking intently at the glass tabletop and drawing on every
ounce of self-control to not laugh. He looked at Khadi, who had her hands folded properly in front of her and was sporting
a huge grin on her face. Tara was staring at him with an expression that said, “ See what I have to put up with every day?”
Finally, Scott jumped in. “Come on, gang, knock it off. Jim is trying to speak.”
“Thanks, Scott. Now I—”
“And I certainly don’t want anyone suggesting the Departmentally Utilized Military Bureau and Systems—”
“Scott!” Jim yelled.
Everyone lost it. Even Tara joined in. Hicks leaned back into his chair, heaved a deep sigh, and then slowly began to chuckle.
His laughter built up momentum until he was wiping tears away from his eyes like everyone else.
All the stress and anxiety Hicks had about his new position was released at that moment. He raised his hand, trying to get
control of the group even as he struggled to get control of himself.
“Okay, everyone, enough. Let’s have a little chat.”
As Hicks
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