Chapter Eight

ANNA

I walk into the station.  "What's up, bitches?"

The last few days have been a Rollercoaster of emotions, but today I decided to just push past and move on.

I'm greeted with claps on the back and high fives for nailing Karver.

I head for Drake's office.  "Bossman.  How's it going?"  I walk in and sink into a chair at his desk across from him.

He raises a brow.  "You seem better."  He turns to his computer.

I adjust my seat.  "Yeah.  I had a lot of shit to work through, but I think I'm okay now."

He folds his hands on his desk.  "Anna.  I know this Karver take down opened some wounds.  We have some great people you can talk to if you need it."

I smirk.  "I don't need therapy, Drake."

He sat back and folded his arms.  "Not therapy, Anna.  Just someone who can talk with you.  In private.  Just to make sure you're all sorted."

"I'm fine.  Really.  Just want to get back to normal."  I rest my elbow on the arm of the chair and place my fingers on my temple.

His mouth ticks up.  "Ok.  Well.  I won't stop you from working, but if you need anything, just come to me."

He turned to his computer as I got up to leave.  "Oh, before you go..."  He pulled an envelope out of a drawer and tossed it to me.  "This came for you today.  It's from the security unit.  Anything I should know?"

I looked confused.  Picking up the envelope and reading my name typed and the security unit name and address in the corner.  "No.  I don't know why they'd send me anything."

I open the envelope and pull out the letter.

As I read it, my eyes go wide.

Drake looks concerned.  "Anna?  What is it?"

I look up at him and toss the letter to him.  Concern, confusion and a bit of anger fill my face.  "I've been reassigned."

"What?"  Drake picks up the letter and reads it.  ".....by order of Alpha Damian for your heroic efforts in the capture of Cole Karver......Anna....this is great!"  He smiles.  "I'm mean I'll miss you around here, but this will be good for you."

I was in disbelief.  "Drake!  This is horrible!  I won't do it.  I can't be one of the alphas lackeys.  No."

He peruses the letter again.  "Looks like you don't have a choice.  The Alpha wants you.  You can't say no."

"Fuck."  I hang my head, my hands on my hips.

"According to this, you report to recruitment at 0800 tomorrow morning.  So I guess you can head home.  No night shift for you."

"Ugh.  I need a drink."  I rub my forehead.

Drake smiles.  "Hey, it could be worse.  You could have my job."  

I laugh.  "No thanks."  

"Bye, Anna."  He leans back in his chair.  His voice sounding a little sad.

"Later, hardass."  I shoot him a two finger salute and walk out of his office for the last time.

****

Fuck.  The security unit.  Damn it.  Working with the fucking robots.  They aren't gonna like me at all.  Maybe I'll get kicked out.  

I pack my pack, and load my saddle bags.  I should text Michael, but I don't expect this assignment will be very long and we can get all this mess behind us.

I drive the hour out to the Security Unit center.  It's an extremely large base of operations.  Clean, ridged.  Housing over 3000 shifters from various packs.  

It sits on Falcon Ridges west border.  Caledons security unit center sits on the other side housing a further 2000 shifters.

I park in front of the recruitment center.  And walk up the steps.  Wearing my chaps, jeans,  riders jacket and white t shirt with my hair in a high ponytail, I stuck out like a sore thumb.

Some soldiers walking by stopped and watched me enter the building.  Both were jacked wearing tight blue t-shirts and blue cargos.  I shot a little smirk their way and they smiled back.  The one slapping the chest if the other in approval.

I giggle to myself as I pull open the glass door and walk in.

I walk into the lobby.  It's cold, stark white with a black floor.  There's a long counter opposite the door.  I walk up, take my pack off my shoulder and drop it on the floor and it lands with a thud.

There's a solider with practically no neck, off to the side, rifling through papers.  

He hears my pack hit the floor and looks at me.

I smile.

He stands, chest puffed out.  Not amused.  He walks over to me.  "You here to report?"  His voice was very stern and monotone.

"Yep." I lean my elbow on the counter.

He looks and raises an eyebrow.  He sits down at his computer.  "Name?"

I lean on the counter to try and see his screen.  "Anna Riker."

He turns and glares at me and I back off raising my hands in surrender.

He turns back, typing.  "You're five minutes late."  He grumbles.

I snicker.  "Sorry.  Traffic."

Again he glares at me.  "Grab your pack and come with me."

He leads me to a door to enter the facility.

I follow him down a white hallway.  Everything is so clean and polished.  Like it would be the end of the world if a tiny smudge was found on the wall or something.

He leads me down another corridor with doors on either side.  He stops, rigidly turns to a door and opens it.  "Have a seat.  Bartley will be with you shortly."

I look at him arrogantly "Bartley?  Seriously?"

He doesn't acknowledge my comment, just presses me to sit.  

I sigh and walk in.  Plopping my pack on the floor of the tiny office.  I sit in front of a tiny desk.  There's a line of file cabinets on the wall opposite me.  

A few minutes later, a soldier came in.  Blonde perfect cut hair, piercing blue eyes and muscles for days. He's carrying a file,  reading it as he walks.

He sits down without saying a word.  He types on his computer.  The silence is deafening.  

"Agent Riker."  He finally says.

"Yep."  I say leaned back in the chair. 

"It's nice to finally meet you.  There's been a lot of talk about you this last week."

I lean forward. "All good I hope."  The corner of my mouth raises.

He nods.  Clearly we aren't into small talk.

He clears his throat.  "Great work on the Karver arrest.  He's provided a lot of great Intel to us this far.'

I raise my brow.  "You guys have him?"

"Of course."  He says not looking up from his computer.

I lean on my knees.  "Well, what has he said?"

"I'm sorry.  I'm not at liberty to discuss details of an ongoing investigation."    He still doesn't look at me.

I sit up.  "But he's my suspect?"

He turned.  "He was your suspect.  Now, he's our prisoner.  You did a great job in his capture, but he belongs to us now."

I flop back into my seat.  "That's bullshit."  I say under my breath.

He raised his brow.  "What was that?"

"Nothing."  I grumble.

He smirks.  Picks up the file he walked in with and stands.  He opens the file and starts reading while walking around toward me.  "One week suspension for insubordination,  two week suspension for ignoring a direct order.  One month paid leave for excessive force....."  He dropped the file on his desk and leans on the edge of the desk in front of me.  Crossing his arms.  "....and there's more.  A lot more."

He continues.  "Now, I don't know why the alpha would even think someone like you would be good enough for the security unit, but he does.  This...whatever this is..."  He trails his finger in the air up and down me,  "....isn't gonna fly here.  We don't deal in suspensions or paid leave.  We deal with actual punishments.  So unless you check this bad girl attitude of yours, I see a lot of punishment headed your way."

My face goes cocky.  "You gonna make a good girl outta me, soldier?"

He smiled.  "Come with me."

He lead me out of his office and out the back of the building.  Recruits were training.  Running everywhere, fighting.

He lead me to the barracks.  We walk into where a woman with red hair is sitting.  She's pretty, very fit.  

"Donovan?"  Bartley calls.

The woman stands at attention.  "Yes, sir."

He leads me in.  "I have some fresh meat for you.......this is Riker."

"Riker, yes.  They told me you were coming.  We have your bunk and your locker ready."

I cock a brow.  "My bunk?"

She comes around and stands with her hands behind her back.  "Yes.  This is your sleeping quarters with the other recruits."

I look between the two of them. "Your kidding right?"

She furrows her brow.  "No.  I'm not...kidding."  I've clearly offended her.

Bartley pipes up.  "Riker here, has a bit of an attitude.  We need to adjust it for her.  When she dressed in uniform send her to Stevens."  He turned and leaned into me.  "He'll deal with this bad girl."  He smiles turns to Donovan and leaves.

Donovan stands and points out the door.

I'm shown to my bunk at the back of the room and I toss my pack on it.  There's around 30 bunks in here.  

On my bed is a uniform.  Blue tshirt and a pair of blue cargos.  Also a pair of socks and military boots.  

I hold up the shirt.  "For fucks sake.  Really?"

Donovan crosses her arms.  "Showers are over there.  Get changed and meet me at the door in 5 mins."  She barked.  Spinning on her heels and leaving.

I shake my head and go to change.  

I saunter out and head for the door.  I feel like a total douche.  

She looks me over and barks.  "Tuck in that shirt, soldier!"

I glare at her, sigh and tuck in this God awful t shirt.

"Follow me."  She struts out the door, marching to the training field I passed by earlier.  

We march, with me trying to keep up behind, until we get to a tall, black haired man standing looking over the recruits.

We were about to reach him when he put his hand to the side of his mouth and yelled. "DAVIS!"  A young soldier, who had just got knocked on his ass, looked our way.  He got up, brushed himself off and jogged to the awaiting man who was waving him 

Davis stopped and stood at attention.  "Yes, sir!"  He exclaimed.

The man put his hand behind Davis' neck and pulled him close.  He raised a finger to his face. "Quit fucking around out there, solider.  If I see that again, you won't sleep for a week, YOU GET ME?"  

Davis looked clearly scared.  His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.  "Sir.  Yes, sir!"  

The man let go of Davis' head.  "GO!"

Davis ran back to his partner while the man sighed and shook his head.  "I swear they get worse every year."  He grumbled.

"Sir.  I have a new recruit for you."  Donovan stood at attention while I stood with my arms crossed and a foot out the side.  "Stevens, this is Riker....." She glanced at me.  "I think you'll have fun breaking this one."

He walked over to me with his hands on his hips.  "You have attitude, I see."

I smirked at him.  "And you have anger issues."  

His jaw ticked as he challenged me.  He walked close.  Sticking his face in mine.  "Little girl, you haven't seen me angry.  Now, get your pretty, little ass on the track and give me 40 laps."

My brow furrowed. "What?!"

"Make that 50!"  He barked.

"You can't be seri..." I stood up straight.

"You want 60?!"  His eyes flared.

My shoulders dropped and I backed off.  "No."  I grumbled.

"No what?"  He glared.

"No, sir."  I grit, my eyes narrowed.

"Hit the track, soldier."  He points to the track.

I roll my eyes, grumble and run off to the track to start my laps.  I can't fucking believe this bullshit.  How the hell did this happen?

After my 50 some odd laps, I trot to the grass and flop on the ground.  My muscles are burning, my breath is heaving and I'm dying for a cold beer.  The sun is beating down and I cover my eyes.  A large shadow looms over me and I move my arm.

"On....your....FEET!"  Steven yells.

I get up.  Dead from exhaustion. 

He's glaring hard.  "Tired?"

I nod, trying to catch my breath still.

"WHAT WAS THAT?"  He screams.

"Yes, sir!"  I manage.

He crosses his arms.  "I don't think your tired enough.  See that circuit over there?"  I look around him.  It's huge.  Got to be at least 25 different exercises.  

"Yes, sir."  I pant.

"Run it.....ten times."

"Oh, Come on...." I whine.

"15."

I sigh.  "Yes, sir."  And I run to the circuit.

Please let this be a fucking nightmare.

At the end of the day, I'm literally dead.  I find my bunk.  I'm sore all over.  I need sleep.

I just laid down, when Donovan came over.  "What do you think you're doing?"

"Going to sleep."  I lay looking at her.

She stands rigid.  "ON YOUR FEET!"

I grumble quietly and stand up. 

"You're to report to the mess hall."  She smiles.  "You have dish duties for the next 4 hours.'

A whining look came across my face.  

"Do we have a problem with that?"

Defeated I quietly say, "no, mam."

"Good."  She points to the door.  "GO."

"Yes, mam."  And I trudge to the door.  Wishing I'd just wake up.