A family spiralling out of control.
A child forced to grow up too fast.
Is there any room left for a young girl to find herself?


Book Two ‘Childhood’
Chapter 13 – Mining Town

 

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Author's Note: I’ve decided to post this Chapter 12 hours early as I had everything ready. The next posting will still be next Friday as always. Meanwhile… Cassie’s education continues apace. As ever please be tolerant of my failings, and forthright with your criticism. ~Persephone

Current Score: US Readers 15 – 2 UK Author

Photo by  Christopher Campbell on Unsplash
© Persephone 2019

~o~O~o~

Cassandra soon realized that her puppy was not named after the famous vacuum brand like his predecessor, but the giant engineering marvel across the Colorado river.

“Cassie! That puppy of yours has been chewing on my work gloves again!”

“Sorreee. I thought you were going to put them out of reach with your safety helmet like the rest of the guys agreed to do. He can’t help it, he’s a baby.”

She listened as the grumbles continued while Malik carefully wrestled his gloves free from the pup’s sharp little teeth. “Damn Hoover! Why is it always my gloves you go after? Can’t you spread it around a bit? Look, Jordan’s gloves are just lying there. What’s wrong with the taste of his?”

During the day Hoover padded around the house behind Cassie as she did her chores, shoving his nose into everything. Or he curled up on a blanket in the kitchen while she cooked. At night and during school hours his favorite spot was the foot of her bed, and more than one of her teachers had been surprised and amused when a pair of floppy ears and an inquisitive nose suddenly appeared on screen over Cassie’s shoulder.

Hoover’s other favorite spot was on top of whoever sat on the left side of one of the couches in the living room. Not the couch, just the person sitting there. It swiftly became a house tradition that once Hoover settled, whoever got that spot didn’t have to move for the rest of the evening, and the rest of the team waited on them hand and foot.

Cassie took great pleasure in sharing her pictures and stories of Hoover with Kath and Aunt Megan, always careful to make sure none of the guys were in any of the shots. She also shared details of her end of year school report, of which she was justly proud. With Eric’s help her French grade had jumped to an A, while Tony’s tutoring had got her pushed up to the Junior math and calculus classes for next year. Her new GPA of 3.88 also meant that Michael agreed the extra tutoring could finally go down to once a week.

In return Kath told her big sister all about her new middle school in Pasadena and the friends she was making. She was so jealous of Cassie getting a puppy, but sadly realized that it wouldn’t be practical for her to have one in Aunty Meg’s apartment.

Her other news wasn’t so positive. The courts had finally reached a decision and had awarded custody of Kath to Aunt Megan with only limited and supervised visiting rights for her father. However, because ‘Carl’ was a runaway, they decided they couldn’t make a ruling ‘in absentia’. Their father had also had his parole board and was due to be released next month.

‘I’m so sorry C.’ She wrote. ‘Aunt Megan fought and fought for them to give her custody for you, but they hemmed and hawed and then flat out refused. They said they’d review it if you came home, but it took them months to make a decision the first time.’

Cassie was both saddened and relieved by the court’s decision. She missed Kath and Aunt Megan dreadfully, but she couldn’t face leaving the team behind either.

With the start of the summer vacation Cassie now had more free time during the day. She had started her lessons with Josh every Saturday afternoon, and he demanded she spent at least an hour each day practicing her forms while school was out. Josh taught Wing Chun, so Cassie had to start again from scratch.

After the ‘Hardcastle incident’ everyone on site now knew that messing with the bouncy teenager guaranteed an extremely inventive retribution from the Leathernecks, not to mention the ire of the Security office. Word had quickly gotten around that she was seriously off limits, leaving her free to indulge her other joys, of training Hoover in the sunshine, or taking him for long walks to visit the Security office, or the other team support ladies around the ‘village’. Everyone quickly learned to welcome the little baked treats Cassie always brought with her, and to move anything leather out of puppy range.

The Saturday after Kath had emailed to say their father was being released, Michael and Hector took Cassie off to the makeshift weapons range the site security team used; a steep blind gully about half a mile from the complex. After setting up two simple targets in front of a sandy bank that had been raked out for larger rocks, Michael led Cassie round to the back of the truck and dropped the tailboard.

He neatly laid out ear defenders, eye protection, a box of fifty rounds of 9mm Luger and a plain black case containing a brand new Smith and Wesson M&P9 Compact¹ with two magazines.

“Right Cassie. Here’s the rules. I’m your instructor and you try and do what I tell you. Understand?”

“Uh huh.”

“NO! On the range it’s YES or NO. Understand?”

Cassie winced. “Yes Uncle Michael.”

“Good. Now Hector here. He’s way more important than me. He’s the Range Officer. When he tells you to do something. You do it instantly. You don’t question. You don’t argue. You just do it. His word is LAW. Understand?”

“Yes sir.”

“Right. Hector is now going to give you the safety brief. Listen very carefully to everything he says.” Michael turned to Hector and shocked Cassie with his next words. “Sir, she’s all yours.”

Once Cassie had gotten over how deadly serious both Michael and Hector were on the makeshift range, and her initial fear of the pistol, (“not a ‘gun’, that’s like calling a ball peen hammer a ‘club’” she was told) she started to enjoy herself, and by the end of the afternoon was getting almost all her shots onto the target at ten yards range. She was disappointed when Hector called it a day.

“But I don’t have to start dinner for another couple of hours.” She complained. The two guys shared a smirk. “You’ll need that long to clean your pistol to our standards.” Michael advised her.

It did.

And another half hour to get the black gunk off her hands and from under her nails.

Hoover still wasn’t sure about the funny smell even then.

~o~O~o~

Before any of the team realized the first year of their contract had finished. It was only when Cassie showed Michael her draft accounts for the year that any of them really took notice.

Cassie nervously stood up in front of the team. Her laptop already linked up to the big TV. “Guys, do you all remember the budget I put together for you last year? Where I tried to work out how much you could save each year by not using the cafeteria and bar and all?”

They all nodded.

“So, with Tony’s help.” She nodded over to where Tony was currently acting as Hoover’s human pillow. “I’ve worked out what you will each get from the business, on top of the two hundred and fifty a month allowance you’ve each been drawing.“ She clicked on her laptop and a spreadsheet appeared on the big screen. “This was the original plan. You’d each have got thirty thousand towards college. That’s after all taxes.”

“So it sounds like you’re saying we won’t be getting thirty thousand?” Norm interrupted. “Thought it was too good to be true. Come on Cookie. How bad’s the damage? What are we actually going to see?”

“Um, Thirty three thousand eight hundred. But you’ve got to put ten thousand of that in your college fund. Sorry. I overestimated the running costs and taxes a bit and I thought we should hold back five thousand for emergencies.” Cassie winced. She hated getting math wrong and was sure the guys would be disappointed she’d not been more accurate.

Wayne stuck his hand in the air. “Cookie, you’re telling us that we’re getting almost four thousand dollars extra each for this year alone? While still holding back five thou for emergencies. Which we’ll share out at the end of the contract if it isn’t used. And all we have to do is put at least ten thou into the fund we were planning to pay into anyway? And you’re apologizing?”

“Uh, I guess when you put it like that it seems a bit silly.”

Wayne just shook his head in amazement. He turned to the room. “Guys, we don’t pay this girl enough.”

Despite a wave of head nodding and murmurs of agreement, Cassie was insistent in refusing to accept any more from the business. So the team just waited until she’d gone to bed, then agreed any contingency funds left over should be used to help fund her medical costs when she turned eighteen.

Team Leatherneck were now an experienced and skilled team. When the usual crop of newbies turned up over the summer they were pointed out as examples to follow. Bob Jones went so far as to ask both Michael and Hector to mentor a couple of the new team bosses through their first few months at the site.

The second year at Eldorado flowed past and, although she didn’t really notice the changes in herself, others around the team certainly did. Cassie now topped five foot six and drew more than a few eyes when she was out and about. Not that any of the younger guys on site dared go near her. The story of Stanton Hardcastle had grown to legendary proportions, while Cassie was rarely seen without Hoover at her side. The bouncy bundle of fur from last year was now sixty pounds of alert, intelligent and protective hound. Marco Ribas was only half joking the first time he offered to induct Hoover as a part time member of the Security team, and regularly dropped hints to Cassie when he met them on their walks.

Slowly, and after long conversations with Michael and the rest of the team, Cassie began to open up to Kath and Aunt Megan about where she was. Emails gave way to long Skype conversations and Kath was overjoyed to know that ‘her’ squad was still together and looking after her big Sis. It was decided that it was still too risky for Cassie to come south to Pasadena or Silver Lake for Christmas now their father was free, but Michael made a detour on his way home, to deliver presents and be fussed over by Kath and Aunt Megan.

“Ugh! I can barely move.” Michael struggled to get out of his chair after Aunt Megan and Kath had fed him lunch. “Now I know where Cassie learned to cook ma’am. If we didn’t have Cassie looking after us. I’d be sorely tempted to kidnap both of you.”

Aunt Megan blushed at the compliment, and at the thought of being kidnapped by the hunky former Marine. Behind her the twelve year old Kath was utterly tongue tied in Michael’s presence, and seriously jealous of her big sister.

“And she’s safe and happy?” Cassandra may have said so herself on Skype, but Aunt Megan wanted confirmation from the young man in front of her.

“She’s grown up a lot over the last year and a half ma’am. Her teachers are already pushing her towards every AP course they can think of. She bosses the team around like a mother hen, and coddles us just as much. We’ve all been working with her over the last year. Right now I can’t think of anyone who would even think of trying to mess with our li’l sis. And if they did it surely wouldn’t go well for them.”

“And no one suspects her… ‘unusual’ background?”

Michael laughed. “Outside the team? Heck no! I think even the team have pretty much forgotten. She’s just ‘Cookie’ or ‘li’l sis’ or ‘hermana pequeña’.”

“And does she have any romantic interests?” Aunt Megan gently poised. “She’s getting to that age.”

Michael almost did a spit take as his eyes goggled. “He..ck No! Anyone comes near Cookie, I’d rip them a new….,” He had to struggle to get himself under control. “uh, we’d strongly discourage it ma’am.”

Aunt Megan just gave a little smile. “Oh well. I imagine there’ll be time for that later.”

With the new year came more changes. Brandon couldn’t be persuaded to reprise his role as personal shopper this year, so Michael and Hector merely established a base camp and bag drop in the centre of the mall. They told Cassie point blank that they would not go into any store with her that sold lingerie or shoes, then allowed her to roam freely.

When they got home the team had another surprise for her.

“Cookie, you’d normally be learning to drive now, but without papers, getting you a learner’s permit is one risk too many. I spoke to Mario and he’s approved for you to learn on the site roads as long as one of us is with you. We’ll also teach you off road skills up in the hills to the North. A few of the gear heads on site have marked out a course up there that they go hammering round at the weekends.” Michael looked around the team with a grin. “I thought Tony’s truck would be ideal for you to learn in.”

The rest of the crew snickered as the blood drained from Tony’s face. His customized Ranger was his pride and joy.

“Don’t worry Tony. I’m sure Cookie will drive like a little old lady.” Michael grinned maliciously.

They soon found out she didn’t.

After three months of lessons Cassie hadn’t dented or scratched any of their trucks, but more than one of the guys came back white faced from a trip out to the off road course.

“Couldn’t we have bought her a bicycle instead?” Eric whined after one close call too many, while Cassie was trying to master using a power drift to corner on dirt. “She drives like Malik in a firefight.”²

Cassie couldn’t remember having so much fun and looked forward to every lesson with far more enthusiasm than her teachers.

~o~O~o~

April turned into May and Cassie was coming to the end of her Sophomore year as her online teachers started loading her with extra study in readiness for the final exams.

She was deep into exam preparation one lovely late spring morning, her bedroom window open to the breeze, as she worked her way through a set of differential calculus problems. Behind her, Hoover was sprawled on her bed, his tongue lolling.

A large muffled thump echoed across the village, causing Hoover to spring up, quivering and alert for any threat. A few moments later a ghostly wail cut through the peaceful calm. Banshee like, the tone rose and fell as Cassie recognized the siren from their induction, and the regular safety drills Security insisted on carrying out every quarter.

‘Major incident - chemical leak’ the mournful wail told her. Cassie went cold.

She buzzed for her tutor’s attention, her mind already racing as her imagination started to run into overtime. “Mr. Carmody sir? We’ve just had a major, site wide alarm sir. And I’ve got to follow the safety drills. May I be excused please?”

Moments later Cassie shut down her laptop and shut her window tight, then dashed from room to room, checking all the other windows were closed and secure. Unsure what else to do she grabbed the site radio and turned it on to listen in to channel one.

“…containment’s out on seven bravo….”

“…primary control’s gone. Can’t access the over-rides from here…”

“… casualties are contaminated… why the fuck isn’t there a decontam? We need field showers set up stat!”

A warble on the radio alerted her to an incoming call from house thirty, where Mrs. Dubock ruled her husband’s team. “Uh Yes? Cassie here ma’am.”

Mrs. Dubock didn’t waste any time with social pleasantries. “Cassie, find every hose, towel, med kit and drink you got and get down to the complex now! Call Marie and tell her the same. Got it?”

“Hose, towels, med kit, drink and Marie. Yes ma’am.”

“Good, move!”

Thankful that she could do something, anything, Cassie burst into action. She passed on Mrs. Dubock’s orders to Marie even as she was sweeping clean towels off the storeroom shelves. Next, she rushed downstairs to snatch Michaels keys from their hook in the hallway, on her way to throw the armfuls of towels into the truck. On the way back in Cassie grabbed up one of their chiller boxes before straight arming their entire shelf of chilled soda from fridge to box. Then came a raid on the storeroom, and two trays of soda joined the chiller in the back of the pick-up. Cassie was about to jump in before remembering the rest of her orders. She rushed upstairs, straight to Wayne and Hector’s room, to snatch up Wayne’s combat medic pack, before racing back down through the kitchen to grab the garden hose reel on her way out the door.

Throughout all this Hoover had dogged her heels, and when she yanked open the truck door he leapt past her onto the passenger side. She made it to the complex entrance just in time to see Mrs. Dubock slam to a stop and leap from her husband’s truck.

“Ma’am! You shouldn’t be…”

“Hoses and towels for decontam. Extra medical supplies. Drinks to rehydrate both casualties and first responders. Trucks to evacuate the less seriously wounded”. She barked before Mr. Ribas could say another word, then ignored him.

“Ladies! To me! Park out the way over there. Cassie, check out the restrooms, I want four hoses set up in five minutes. Martha, good, you got the pop up canopies. Set ‘em up… there. Marie, set up a drinks station over there. Shawna, go help Martha, then police up all the sodas and towels we’ve got loaded. Move it Ladies!”

The next thirty minutes was a barely ordered nightmare as Cassie found herself running the garden hoses out to the pop ups, then manning a hose to spray down the stumbling figures who poured from the complex.

“Strip boys! You ain’t got nothing we haven’t snickered at before. Get under them there hoses and scrub!” Mrs. Dubock’s stentorian tones shocked the men into action.

“Soak, scrub, rinse and move. Leave the clothes. Once the medics have checked you over and cleared you, dry up as best you can and grab a drink. We’ll get you a ride to your bunk houses as soon as possible.”

Cassie nervously scanned every new face for her team, increasingly worried as none had yet appeared. Then a call went up for more medical supplies in the complex. She quickly handing off her hose and rushed back to the truck to check on Hoover and snatch up Wayne’s trauma pack.

She caught hold of one of the first responders as he was getting ready to go back inside.

“Sir, this is Wayne Bass’s combat trauma gear.” She hefted the bulky green back pack.

“Bass? The black Navy Corpsman? Shit girl give it here.” He snatched it out of her hands. “Make a hole! Trauma pack inbound.” Then he was off and running.

It was an hour later, after the volunteer fire crews from Ontario and Vale had arrived, along with dozens of EMTs and State Police, that Cassie finally found her team. Battered, filthy and exhausted, but all there and uninjured. She wept in relief as she rushed between them, hugging everyone she could reach despite the blood stains, filth and acrid stench.

Michael just tiredly patted her on the shoulder as she clung to him. “Take us home Cookie. It’s been a long day.”

At the house the team levered themselves, one by one, out of the truck’s flatbed and staggered wearily upstairs.

Cassie sat for a moment in the cab after they left, hugging Hoover tightly as relief washed over her. “He’s safe Hoover.” She told him as he licked her face. “They’re all safe.”

Then she thought about what her guys needed next.

Five minutes later she was dropping a pair of garbage sacks outside each of their rooms while the team showered, or waited their turn, in the bathroom.

“Dirty clothes into the garbage sacks when you’re done guys.” She called out. “Hot coffee and fresh cookies will be ready downstairs in twenty minutes.”

It was nearer to thirty when they all assembled in the dining room. Each slumped in front of a steaming mug and loaded plate, after muttering their thanks as Cassie served them. Finally Michael roused himself.

“You know what we gotta do guys.” He sighed.

Around the table heads nodded wearily. “Best get it over with.” Josh added in resignation.

“Cassie, grab a fresh notebook and pen, and your laptop. Set it up like you did for Mama Ruiz and start it recording. I need you to act as scribe.”

“Sure Uncle Mike. Um, what am I recording?”

“Our AAR… after action review,” he added on seeing the confusion on her face.

Wayne looked up. “You sure she needs to hear this?”

Michael nodded tiredly. “Better the truth from us, than rumors later. She’s also a fresh pair of eyes and ears.”

Cassandra was amazed, awed, shocked and appalled by what she heard over the next hour and a half. More than once she had to blink back tears to be able to continue writing. When Michael finally decided they’d learned everything they could, she quietly got up, turned off and saved the video on her laptop, then went round the table hugging each of her team.

“You saved all those lives. Each and every one of you are heroes.” She quietly told them all, before going upstairs to collect the bags of filthy clothes to get them in to soak.

~o~O~o~

Two dead and thirteen wounded, three seriously. It made the local news, but wasn’t enough for the national news syndicates to send camera teams out to on a day when a Hollywood actor was caught hopped up and speeding.

State and Federal safety inspectors poured onto the site and interviewed everybody. Michael just let them watch the AAR video and told them to come back with questions when they’d worked through it. A couple of days later lawyers from the deceased and wounded guys’ families also turned up, knocking on doors and looking for someone to sue on top of the company. Michael just told them to fuck off.

The truth was that the incident truly had been a tragic accident. One of the new guys hadn’t realized how heavy the sampling containers were, even when empty, and accidentally dropped it onto one of the processing conveyors. The safety trap had caught it as designed, but had shorted out the whole line in doing so, causing a dangerous overpressure in one of the holding silos. When a welded seam burst, a tiny shard of metal shot out, and by a million to one chance missed the safety cage put there for exactly that reason, then smashed into the control station, killing the duty technician and taking out the automated safeties. From there it just snowballed.

Everyone in the village, both work teams and management, agreed there were three heroes that day. Peter Flores, one of the foremen, who had managed to reach the secondary safety overrides and close everything down, despite getting badly burned in the process. Mrs. Dubock, who’s foresight and leadership with the makeshift decontam had stopped the minor chemical burns, affecting nearly thirty guys, from becoming a whole lot more serious. Unlike many, Cassie wasn’t surprised to discover that Mrs. Dubock was a retired Navy Chief and damage control specialist.

The final hero was Wayne Bass. He’d directed team twenty-two inside the facility like a search and rescue operation. Then he’d triaged and treated the casualties they found in situ, stabilizing them until they could be evacuated, or handed over to a Paramedic team. They said he’d saved at least five lives.

Wayne just shrugged and asked Cassie to help sort a ‘replen’ for his trauma pack. He gave her a copy of his normal load out, marked off what he’d used, and added the names of a couple of online medical supplies stores. “Just order it Cookie, and let me know the cost when I get off this afternoon.”

Cassandra promised she’d get it sorted and waved the guys off. Then she called the security office and asked when Bob Jones got into work. Twenty minutes later, with Hoover trotting at her heels, she knocked on the Head of Operations’ door.

“Come.”

He looked up in surprise as Cassie entered. “What can I do for you Miss Metherick?”

Cassie braced up as she’d seen the guys do. “Sir, our Navy Corpsman needs a complete replen of the gear he used during the incident last week.”

Bob Jones eyes crinkled. “You got a requisition miss?”

Cassie handed over the copy Wayne had given her earlier. He scanned it, pulled out a notepad and wrote a short note before handing both back over. “Take these over to the med center. They’ll be expecting you.”

“Thank you sir.” Cassie resisted the urge to salute and quickly left the office. She glanced down at the handwritten note.

Issue Team 22 a complete replacement of everything on the attached.
Expedite in 24 hrs. Bill to site main account #A1741A.

Robert Jones
Hd Ops

When Wayne found out what she’d done he almost fell over laughing. “Jeez Cookie, only you would have thought of that. Don’t ever join the Navy girl. You’d scare the cr…ud out of every supply officer in the Service!”

Everything on the list turned up by Fedex the next day, including a new pack.

~o~O~o~

That Sunday was the memorial service for the victims of the incident. Management had made it clear that attendance was strongly encouraged, not that team twenty-two would have done anything less.

It was a quiet service despite the little church being packed. Someone had rigged up speakers at the door and many of the teams attended from the courtyard out front. Few knew the two deceased. One was a technical specialist who had been with the company for a year. The other, a youngster who arrived with his team just over six months ago. Their bodies had already been shipped home to their families.

After the service Reverend Davies came over to Cassandra and her team. “Miss Metherick, there you are. And the rest of your team even. Good morning to you gentlemen. I just wanted to come over and thank you all. I’ve heard that if you hadn’t been there then my duties today would have been far, far heavier.”

Michael shifted uncomfortably. ”We just did what we could Reverend. Anyone would have done the same.”

Reverend Davies gave him an appraising glance. “You’re forgetting that I grew up in the valleys. My grandfather was a miner. I’ve been hearing stories about mining disasters and all since I sat on my Granther’s knee mind you.”

Cassie could see the minister’s words were starting to unsettle Michael and the team. “Reverend Davies. Perhaps you would like to join us for lunch next Sunday after service? It might make a nice change from the management facility. We generally have a proper roast and it would be fascinating to hear about growing up in Wales.”

The Reverend beamed. “Miss Metherick I wouldn’t want to intrude, but you sorely tempt me. I haven’t had a nice roast for ages.”

Michael thankfully took the opening and ran with it. “No problem Reverend. We’ll look forwards to seeing you then okay?” Then with a final flurry of farewells the team made its escape without anyone else lionizing over them.

The following Sunday it was Eric’s turn to escort Cassie to church. “So what’s so special about this roast you’re doing Cookie?” Eric asked.

“Well, I was looking for something that would give the poor man a taste of home.”

“A bit like you do sometimes for Hector?”

“Yeah, like that. So I found a Sunday roast I think he’ll enjoy. Roast lamb with mint sauce, roast potatoes, peas and glazed carrots.”

“Mint?”

“Hey, I thought that too ’til I tried a bit. I guess it’s a bit like putting turkey and cranberry sauce together. Just give it a go okay?”

Eric just shrugged. “If you’re cooking I’ll always try anything once.”

The Reverend Davies was surprised when he was welcomed to house twenty-two. Instead of the barracks like feel of many of the other bunk houses he’d seen, when visiting sick or injured workers, this one had a feel of home; from the borders of neatly tended lavender bushes planted underneath the windows, to the spotless polished dining table.

Michael offered him the seat at the head of the table as the rest of the crew joined them.

“Reverend, would you like a glass of wine, or would you prefer something non-alcoholic?”

Reverend Davies grinned. “If my nose isn’t mistaken about what’s about to come through that door, it would be a crime not to do it justice. A glass of wine would be lovely thank you.”

Moments later Cassie and her helpers for the day were ferrying in platters of roast potatoes and bowls of vegetables and lamb gravy, before following up with plates laden under thick slices of roast lamb. By now the Reverend was openly drooling.

Finally, everyone had taken their seats.

“Reverend? Would you offer grace?” Cassie asked from the foot of the table. It took the poor man a moment to realize what he’d been asked, so intent was he on the plate before him.

“Oh! of course. I’d be happy to.” He thought for a moment, then bowed his head.

“Be present at our table, Lord
Be here and everywhere adored
Thy mercies bless and grant that we
May strengthened for thy service be.”

Around him there was a chorus of “Amen’s” before the table erupted in noisy chatter.

The Reverend waited until he and Michael had served themselves, and savored the first bites of the succulent lamb.

“I didn’t realize your team would have expected a grace.”

Across the table Josh snickered as Michael wiped his lips. “Um, we didn’t when we arrived. But Cookie soon changed that.” He offered with a hint of embarrassment.

“What was it she said Mike? ‘If you’re at this table, whole and hungry. You can at least say thank you for first making it here whole, and knowing that the second is about to be dealt with.’” Josh grinned.

Michael nodded. “Pretty much. Since then it’s become a habit. You know, like the glass of wine? It makes it more family and formal. Anyway, having heard how some of the other teams eat, why wouldn’t we give thanks?”

Reverend Davies finished chewing his mouthful. He wasn’t going to rush this meal. “Now that boyo is something I must completely agree with you on. I think this is as good as my mam’s, go rest her soul. How on earth did you ever find our Miss Metherick?”

“Would you believe it if I said in a box of cookies in Sangin province, Afghanistan?’ Michael suddenly realized he was stepping onto dangerous ground, so quickly added. “Until then I never knew my niece could cook.”

After lunch Reverend Davies said his goodbyes while still praising Cassandra’s cooking. At the time none of the team had any idea the impact his words were going to have on all of them over the coming months.

~o~O~o~

The first hints of change weren’t noticed by any of the team. Unsurprisingly, as the conversations were taking place in the management accommodation facility.

“Come on Reverend! We eat pretty well here. No way could the girl’s cooking be that good.”

“I’m just saying it was a lovely little taste of home.”

“Hey Mario. You know that Metherick girl with twenty-two. You ever eaten there?”

Mario Ribas just smiled. “Let’s just say. If I get another invite and I’m scheduled for a meeting. That meeting is gettin’ changed.”

“Her cooking really that good?”

Mario Ribas’ eyes grew misty in contemplation. “Mmm. Probably better.”

Peter Fosdyke, the site safety supervisor, was the first to try and wangle an invite.

“Hey Mike, you guys really impressed us with that… what did you call it? ARR video?”

“AAR Pete, after action review. Something we all got used to doing in the Service. Just seemed to make sense.”

“Well it impressed the heck out of the Feds and State investigators. I’ve been thinking we ought to kinda adopt it as a standard practice. Do you think we could get together one evening and talk it through? Perhaps over dinner?”

“Uh, sure. I’ll need to clear it with Cookie first. Let me get back to you tomorrow.”

Next up was Steve Holbrook, the head of HR.

“Ah, Mr. Braybrooke, I wonder if you could help? Head Office are keen on capturing the experiences and lessons learned from our top performing teams; and naturally I thought of team twenty-two. I wonder if it would be possible to spend some time with all of you to get your ideas? It would probably be best in an informal environment, perhaps over a meal?”

By October a good third of the senior management had managed to find a seat at Cassie’s table. So when Bob Jones swung by the team on one of his regular walk rounds no one was surprised.

“Morning Mike. You guys got anything planned for the tenth of next month?”

“Not that I know of. Why, what’s up boss?”

“You’re not celebrating the Corps’ birthday? Getting a cake? Inviting any other former marines around?”

Michael just burst out laughing. “Hey Hector? Who had November tenth?” He yelled across the floor.

Hector paused to pull a notebook out of his pocket and consult it for a moment. “Norm. Why?”

“He just won the pot.” Michael shouted back.

“Oorah!”

Bob Jones just shook his head. “Damn! Should’a seen that coming.”
Michael just chuckled. “Semper Fi boss. See you on the tenth.”

~o~O~o~

Note 1. I know that there are a lot of BCTS members who own firearms, and you all have perfectly valid opinions on suitable personal weapons for self defense. However, I’d be REALLY grateful if we can avoid turning the comments section on BCTS into an NRA chatroom. Pretty please?

If you REALLY have to know why I decided that Michael and the guys bought Cassie that specific pistol PM me.

Note 2. Someone on the team made the seriously huge mistake of sending Cassie this link. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zCQ-etiFyho