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"You got it." He headed down the corridor then. "C'mon. I'll show you to your
quarters."
Five minutes later, Tamia tossed her uniform jacket over the arm of the sofa in her
quarters, and dumped the thin volume of regulations that Rick had given her on the coffee
table. She still couldn't believe she'd been chosen so easily. Hadn't they reviewed her
records? Or didn't it matter? She sighed heavily as she opened her bedroom door to find
the boxes that contained her life stacked neatly inside. Looked like she d be doing some
unpacking, later. For now, she was going to take Rick s advice, and lose the dress
uniform she hated anyway. Walking over to the boxes, she flipped one open and
rummaged around until she found a comfortable, form-fitting bodysuit in dark brown and
a tan shirt. Stripping out of the uncomfortable uniform, she donned the other outfit, and
31
sighed with relief. Oh, yeah, she decided with a grin, she was going to like this new job a
lot. Her smile collapsed into nervousness again, as she remembered that she d yet to
meet the rest of the people she d be working with. Rick had said he'd introduce her to the
rest of the team that evening at the command meeting. That meant only Rick knew her
record. She couldn't believe a man of his military background wouldn't fully screen each
new recruit.
With another sigh, Tamia plopped down on the sofa, reaching into her bag to
retrieve a file. Well, even if Carinson hadn't thoroughly researched her, she had done her
homework on him. Tamia smiled wryly as she flipped open the file in her hand. Yeah,
she'd read up on what made the Commandos tick. Every shred of information she'd ever
been able to get her hands on was in this file.
The top sheet was what her research into military history databases had dug up.
The Commandos had been established as a Special Operations unit that, technically,
didn't exist, per Carinson's specifications. Their funding came from a Special Ops
account under the CIA and Internal Affairs, though the exact account was classified.
Their contract, however, declared them free agents at any point when either the military
or political branches of the government attempted to dictate "law and policy outside of
the specifications agreed upon in mission contract." In other words, if the brass started
handing them shit, the Commandos were free to call off the party. They had, however,
agreed to one military policy in exchange for continued access to top-secret military
information. All members of the team had to sign and affirm the Fertility Code.
The Commandos' base was funded and supplied by an anonymous private
contractor, and the base's location was unknown by even the Intelligence community.
Tamia had some guesses as to who the "private contractor" was, but she couldn't say for
32
certain. Rick Carinson had called in a lot of favors for this entire project. The military
had scoffed at his idealism in the beginning, especially when he pulled most of his team
from civilian channels rather than military, but he'd soon been vindicated when the
Commandos had gained national, and then world, recognition by the end of the Divide.
Why, exactly, he'd chosen the guidelines he had was a mystery to the world, but Tamia
believed she knew why.
Rick was a front-liner, one of the people who put their lives on the proverbial line,
and watched all those he cared for do the same, for their entire careers. He'd watched
probably hundreds, maybe even thousands, of men and women die in the line of duty,
only to be forgotten. It was an experience that jaundiced for life. No one knew that
better than she did. She'd grown up surrounded by that horror, and she read a similar
pain in Rick.
Tamia sighed heavily as she flipped to the next page -- Rick's IA profile. She'd
pored through every scrap IA had on Richard Benjamin Carinson over the years since
she'd first seen him. It was a sketchy and sad, picture the profiles painted, and they made
her ache for him. His mother, Lydia Carinson, had been a Boston socialite, until her
father had thrown her out after he'd learned of her fling with Dr. Marshall Bannington,
her Harvard Law professor, and Rick's father. But Bannington had shunned her once he
discovered she was pregnant. With nowhere left to go, she'd sought help from the Boston
Mission until she'd died giving birth to Rick in 2088. Rick had been handed into foster- [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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