Read Online Point of No Return by Rita Henuber - Free Book Online Page B

behind the desk. As Verna deposited the second cup on the table next to her, Honey glimpsed the edge of a crude tat on the inside of her upper arm.
    Bristol put his cup down. “You gonna answer me?”
    “Why was I sent?” She leaned back and crossed her legs. “Mr. Bristol.” She tasted the coffee and was pleasantly surprised. “Marine Corps Command didn’t share that with me.” She went on casually. “I was ordered here. I did not request this assignment. If I had to guess I suspect it has something to do with my views about civilian militia.”
    “Yeah?” He raised the cup to drink.
    “Yes, I am completely against civilian militia. Every civilization that’s resorted to using them has crumbled. I think they should be done away with.”
    Bristol choked on his coffee. He snagged a napkin from the desk and wiped his chin but it was too late, coffee had already dripped to his shirt. “Or are you suggesting because I’m a woman I can’t do a proper job?” Always best to get that out of the way first off.
    “Now that you mention it”—he leaned back until the chair’s leather groaned—“yeah, I have that thought.”
    “This is a relatively simple task. I go around with an iPad”—she glanced at her briefcase—“check the boxes on the forms and we’re done. Even a woman can do that. If you have specific questions, I’ll try to answer.”
    “Yeah.” He stuck a pinkie into his ear and wiggled it. “Let’s get to that woman thing. What qualifies one to review our training? As in combat techniques, weapons, personal close-quarters fighting? Why didn’t they send a man?”
    Okay, understandable. Men in this line of work were leery of women doing the job. When your life depends on those you work with you want those people to be the best. Men didn’t think women were the best. In some circumstances, they were right. It was a battle that wouldn’t be won or lost in this office. She held back on delivering her views and recited the official spiel. “My qualifications are included in the DoD email.” It was a carefully cleaned version of her service that would take Global, even with its capabilities, more than a couple of weeks to ferret out—long enough for her to get her job done. “Briefly, I hold the rank of major in the United States Marine Corps. You must be aware all Marines, no matter their job or gender, are required to be physically fit and regularly qualify with a pistol and rifle.”
    “Yeah, yeah.” He waved a hand dismissively. “We’re a little past the basics here,” he said in an obnoxious, condescending tone.
    “I’m trained in martial arts disciplines—”
    “Yeah, right,” Bristol snorted, tramping over her words.
    Unfortunately, she was quite used to being spoken down to and had her own way of reciprocating. “To be honest, Mr. Bristol, I see my review as nothing more than a formality. Global has been cleared through committees at the highest levels. As long as you don’t get in the way of me doing my job or I find this operation is a major clusterfuck, you have nothing to worry about.”
    He went dead stump still. His neck flushed. His I-am-the-boss façade slipped away. “We don’t fuck up.” A vein bulged in his left temple. “We’ve got a great thing going here. Why would I do anything to fuck things up?”
    Yes, Global was a great thing, but it was the last sentence that raised a red flag. Why indeed?
    “I wasn’t implying your company isn’t great.” She used a contrite tone. “Global has a mega-million-dollar government contract. Considering past problems with other contractors , the DoD wants to prevent problems before they happen. They’re responsible to the taxpayers to make sure everything is going well.” She mirrored his smile. “I apologize for my CF remark. I was out of line.”
    “Okay.” He waved a hand dismissively. She didn’t think it was okay.
    He stood, went to a cabinet behind him, brought out a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and