Bad Attitude (B.A.D. Agency #1)(5)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

“I like that song,” Joe said defensively.

“Yeah, I’ve seen the shirt,” she said, her voice even drier than her expression as she led them across the parking lot. “Trust me, Joe. You’re not a cowboy. The only cows you ever saw as a kid came under a plastic wrap in the grocery store or in a paper wrapper from McDonald’s.”

Joe made a face at her as he walked behind her.

“Do they always do that?” he asked the other woman, who strangely reminded him of Angelina Jolie. He wasn’t sure why, but something about her dark looks and confidence was reminiscent of the actress. Though this woman looked like she actually enjoyed food and took in more than a lettuce leaf every three weeks.

She pulled her glasses off and tucked them in her pocket before she shifted her book to rest under her arm. “Always. You’ll get used to it.”

Yawning, Steele turned to look over his shoulder as Jake and Tony took off with the helicopter. Oblivious to their departure, Joe and the dark-eyed woman led them toward a small black Mercedes sedan.

“Keys,” Joe said, holding his hand out to her while he and mini-Angelina waited by the back doors.

The Vietnamese woman stared at him. “You have a migraine.”

He gave her a charming, almost boyish grin. “Thanks to you and Maxalt, it’s gone, but if I let you drive, I know it’ll come right back.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I just got it painted from the last time you drove it.”

Joe poked his lip out and pouted.

She made a disgusted noise. “You so much as near a curb, and I will cut”—she dropped her gaze to his groin—“itoff.”

He snorted as he took the keys from her. “Never hit a curb in my life.”

“Beirut? Paris? Oh, and don’t get me started on Madrid.”

Joe made a mocking face as he unlocked the doors with the remote. “You nag like your mother.”

“Don’t you dare start on my mother. I’ll invite her down for a visit if you do.”

“Sorry,” Joe said instantly. “I’ll never mention her again…or your sister either.”

Steele frowned at them. “Are you two married or something?”

“No,” the woman said. “I know too much about him to be that stupid.”

“Thank you, Tiger.” Joe got into the car.

“You’re welcome, Joseph,” she said as she joined him.

Taking his cue, Steele got into the back at about the same time as the mini-Angelina. As soon as he had the seat belt on, he understood Tiger’s trepidation about her car. Joe drove like a man with a death wish.

“Where’d you learn to drive?” Steele asked as they took a corner so fast, he swore the car was only on two wheels.

“Richard Petty’s School of Driving. Had a great instructor there named Steven Norbert who showed me how to dog the shit out of an engine. Why?”

Steele shook his head, wondering if it were sarcasm or truth.

“He’s joking,” Tiger said. “He learned to drive from a Mafia bagman.”

Joe cleared his throat. “I’ve told you a million times, Tiger, we don’t use that term. It’s fiction.” He paused. “My uncle Fish was simply connected.”

Tiger rolled her eyes until Joe cut too close to a slow-moving car. “Watch the bumper!”

Steele cringed, expecting a wreck, but they missed the other car by the skin of their teeth.

Luckily, they were only a few of blocks from their destination. Joe slung them into a parking garage, up the ramp, and into a parking space so fast that he swore he heard a sonic boom from the back end.

“Not a mark on it,” Joe said triumphantly to Tiger as he put the car into park.

“Yeah. Wanna check the backseat, where Steele is sitting? I’ll bet there’s a big stain there.”

“Hey, I resent that,” Steele said. “I assure you, my nerves can take anything you two dish out.”

Mini-Angelina laughed. “Don’t be so cocky. You’ve no idea how mean they can be.”

“Yeah,” Tiger said. “Besides, I’m sure you’ll be resenting a lot more comments made by me in the very near future.”

“And you can take that to the bank,” Joe said as he handed off the keys to Tiger.

Joe and Tiger were an odd couple, but in a weird way, he liked them. They got out of the car and headed toward the elevator to take them out of the garage. “So when do I get to learn more about my new job?”

Joe pressed the button. “In the offices, where we can’t be overheard.”

The women were making small talk while he and Joe said nothing.

Once they reached the peaceful, shaded street outside the garage, Steele paused as he saw the building across from them. It was…different. Made of blue glass and white concrete, it shot up probably a good
six hundred plus feet from the ground. The very top of it had two slender towers that looked like something out of a science fiction movie. A bridgelike structure connecting the towers was emblazoned with the wordBellSouth and a blue circle with white stars just below it.

He’d never seen anything like it…and Joe and the women were heading straight for it.

Steele made a mental note of the address: 333 Commerce Street. He hastened to catch up to them. “You work for the phone company?”

“No,” Tiger said as they walked around the modern art of the north plaza. “Ma Bell owns the building, which is affectionately called the Bat Tower.”

That fit it perfectly. It looked like something out of aBatman comic.

Joe glanced at him over his shoulder. “We rent space in it for our offices.”

Steele nodded as they entered the posh lobby through a revolving glass door. It was rather dark inside, and overwhelmingly brown, with a lot of green plants that overflowed their containers. There was a security station to the back with a uniformed guard and a woman talking.

Joe headed left toward the elevator banks, which were almost hidden by the foliage of the lobby.

“We’re an insurance agency,” Joe said as he entered the elevator.

Steele laughed at the irony. “That’s clever.”

“Yeah, but it’s true,” Tiger said.

Steele opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, mini-Angelina elbowed him.

“Save it for the office.” She indicated a corner of the ceiling, where there was probably a security camera hidden. “Remember, walls have eyes and ears.”

And he’d thought the Army was bad. “You guys aren’t paranoid, are you? What? You think there are trained killers in the elevator?”

Joe and the women laughed evilly as the doors opened into a small lobby area.

As soon as the doors closed behind them, Tiger turned to give him smile. “We rode up in them, didn’t we?”

She had a point.

If it wasn’t for the fact that they carried themselves like professionals, he might think she was kidding—but he knew better.

The small upstairs lobby they entered reminded him a bit of an Army reception area. A petite receptionist was dwarfed by a large brown workstation. Even so, he had a clear shot of her sitting there, doing computer work. She had her blond hair pulled up into a tight bun and was dressed in a thin light-blue sweater set and a pair of khaki pants.

“Hi, guys,” she said as she watched them approach her. “He the new guy?”

Joe nodded. “Steele, meet Kristen Delinsky.”

Kristen, who appeared unassuming and sweet, held her small hand out to him. “Nice to meet you, Steele.”

He shook her hand and noticed that like Joe, she was surprisingly strong. “You, too.”

She let go, then reached for a small package on her desk. She handed it to Joe. “Here’s his badges, parking sticker, and such. Decker has everything else waiting on your approval.”

“Thanks,” Joe said as he took it.

As she moved back toward her seat, Steele glimpsed the black leather holster underneath Kristen’s sweater.

“So do all your receptionists pack heat?” he asked Joe as he led him toward the large door behind Kristen’s desk.

“You’ll find they change out frequently,” Tiger said. “You get shot, and you’ll take a stint at the desk, too. We’re an equal-opportunity abuser here.” She gave him an appreciative look. “Nice powers of perception.”

“That’s why you wanted me, isn’t it?”

She didn’t comment.

Steele paused as he entered the “office.” On the surface, it looked typical enough. A cubicle section held desks behind tan fabric walls. On his left, an office area was encased in glass, with tan mini-blinds that were currently open.

That office was empty. No doubt it belonged to Joe and Tiger, who seemed to be the ones in charge.

People started popping out of the cubes to take a look at him. Most of them he could peg as government agents. There was a demeanor that most trained agents had that was unmistakable. But a couple of them he would have placed as criminals—sharks, con men, and other things best left unsaid.

“You sure we left Kansas?” he asked Joe.

“How so?”

He indicated the heads popping up. “Looks like a gopher farm.”

The women laughed.

Suddenly, he heard a dog barking. Three seconds later, a small golden Pomeranian with a black face came running out of the glass office to launch itself into the arms of Tiger. “Petey!” she said happily as she nuzzled him.

Steele started to pet the dog, only to have it snap at him and growl viciously.

“Don’t take it personally,” Joe said. “Petey hates everyone except Tiger and Retter.”

“That’s ’cause Petey has taste, yes he does,” Tiger said in a high-pitched voice as she played with her pet.

Holding the dog close, she and Joe led him toward the office without introducing him to anyone. Steele wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not.

But he noticed that many of the agents were following them.

One of them, a tall blond man who was so clean-cut he looked more like a fashion model than an agent, cleared his throat before he addressed him. “So what do you think of our assistant director?”

Steele frowned as the guy pointed to the names on the door. In big block letters, it read “Joe Q. Public, Director,” and underneath it was “The Thi Ho, Assistant Director.”

But what was really strange was the handwritten sign taped below the names: “The truth is in here, so don’t bug me with your bullshit.”

Still, the unknown man was pointing to the woman’s name.

Steele knew instantly the guy was trying to set him up. He glanced at Tiger and paraphrased her earlier words. “I like Tee already. She’s snotty.”

Tee/Tiger laughed out loud before she kissed Petey’s head.

The guy gave her an aggravated stare. “No fair, Tee, you told him.”

“No, I didn’t,” she said as she set her dog down so that he could run into the office, where Steele saw a small dog bed waiting for him. “He’s just smarter than you are, Hunter. Then again, most people are.”

Hunter screwed his face up in disgust before he looked back at Steele. “Did she tell you her name?”

“No,” Steele said honestly. “I have a Vietnamese aunt.”

Hunter huffed, then pulled out his wallet and handed two twenties to Joe. “I really hate you two.”

Joe gave a laugh that reminded him of Snidely Whiplash. “Yeah, I know. Now get your ass back to work.”

Grumbling, Hunter made his way back toward the cube farm along with mini-Angelina.

Steele felt a strange urge to call her back, though he didn’t know why. Even though they’d barely spoken, he somehow felt like she was on his side.

Yeah…he was losing his mind.

With his hand splayed over the glass, Joe held the door open with one arm for them to enter. Tee directed Steele to a pair of chairs in front of Joe’s desk while Joe shut the door, then closed the blinds.

“We’ll handle introductions to the others later. For now, let’s take care of business.”

Steele nodded. “One question, though.”

Joe sat down behind his gray metal desk while Tee took a seat next to Steele. “Sure.”

“Are those your real names?”

Joe didn’t look amused.

“Yes,” Tee answered in a dry tone as her dog jumped up into her lap. “He’s really Joseph Quincy Public, and I’m Ho Thi The, or in American The Thi Ho.”

Interesting names. He wondered briefly if their parents had held a grudge against them.

But that wasn’t the most important matter on his mind. “So do I get any more information about my future now?”

Tee stroked her dog’s ears. “Basically we’re a shadow agency, much like the group you were a part of
in the Army. No one knows who we are, and we like it that way. You will be listed on payroll as a civilian contractor with government retirement and bennies. We have international jurisdiction, and if you get caught, no one will help you. We will deny all knowledge of you and your missions. Always.”

Yep, that sounded like Shadow Corps. “So you’re basically telling me that I’m dead to Uncle Sam.”

She nodded. “We’re based out of Nashville, but we have a few field offices scattered around the world. Your first assignment will be with another agent in the D.C. area.”

Steele thought about that for a minute. “Just out of curiosity, why are you based in Nashville, when all other federal groups are based in the D.C. area? You guys do know that the Beltway is the hub of American government activity, right?”

It was Joe who answered. “We’re roughly in the center of America. It gives us easy access to the rest of the country should we need to go somewhere in a hurry. Not to mention that when they drop the bomb on D.C., our agency will still be standing intact.”