what she was doing.
At first the man had struggled against her, but then he had fallen limply into unconsciousness, his face quickly dissolving into a bloody, pulpy mass. She could smell the stink of him rise to her nostrils, mixed with her own sweat. It was both sickening and exhilarating.
Finally, exhausted from the effort, Pine slowly rose off him, her features pale and her limbs shaky. Her mind was suddenly aghast at what she had just done, as the FBI shoulder angel reasserted itself. Pine let out a gush of breath, looked down at her bloody hands and jacket sleeves, and wiped them on her pants. She walked over to the girl, who drew back at her approach. Pine stopped, feeling ashamed at the girl being afraid of her.
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you? Did…did he do anything to you?”
She shook her head.
As the sirens grew closer, the little girl looked over at the man.
“Is he…is he dead?”
“No. Just…unconscious.” Pine wasn’t actually sure of that. She squatted down on her haunches. “What’s your name?”
“Holly.”
“Holly, it was so brave what you did. And you understood exactly what I wanted you to do. It was amazing.”
“I have three older brothers.” Holly smiled weakly. “When they pick on me, I can kick really hard.”
Pine put out a hand and squeezed the girl’s shoulder. “I’m so glad that you’re okay.”
“Are you really an FBI agent?”
“I am.”
“I didn’t know girls could do that. I thought that was like, you know, just on TV.”
“Girls can do anything we want. Never doubt that. ”
Pine stood as the cop cars screeched to a stop a few feet away. She looked over at the bloody man lying motionless on the ground.
Pine took out her creds and headed over to explain what had happened, including the reason why she had nearly beaten a man to death.
This just might be the end of the actually not-so-very-Special Agent Atlee Pine.
Chapter 3
PINE ACCESSED THE SECURE DOOR of her office in Shattered Rock, Arizona, the closest town to the Grand Canyon. This topographical jewel was the only natural wonder of the world located in America, and Pine had jurisdiction over any federal crimes committed there. Her assistant, Carol Blum, was sitting at her desk in the office’s small foyer. Blum was in her sixties and had been at the Bureau for several decades working in various offices and capacities. The mother of six grown children, none of whom lived close by, she came in early and went home late. As she had told Pine, the FBI was now her life, as she didn’t really have hobbies for amusement. She was tall and attractive, her hair immaculately styled, her makeup and jewelry understated, and her clothing choices always professional.
“How was your workout?” asked Blum.
Pine normally exercised at the crack of dawn at a gym in the small downtown area of Shattered Rock. The workout facility was beloved by hardcore movers of iron for its minimalist style of fitness. There was no AC, no fancy machines, no Pelotons and Spandex workout clothes within miles of the place. Only barbells and enormous steel plates and grunting people heaving them into the air with a ferocious intensity.
And lots and lots of sweat.
“I didn’t make it this morning. Got back later than I thought from Colorado the other night and decided to sleep in yesterday to catch up. Then I slept badly last night and got up too late this morning to go. Stuff on my mind.”
Blum looked at her in concern. “What stuff?”
“Come into my office and I’ll fill you in on the ‘wonderful’ details. Oh, and you might be getting a new boss.”
Blum’s expression didn’t change. Pine loved that the woman was unflappable. In all her years at the Bureau, she had no doubt seen everything.
“Do you want some coffee?”
“Carol, you don’t have to make me coffee. That’s actually fulfilling a really bad stereotype.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me offering to make you a cup of coffee. Now, if you had demanded a cup, I would have felt differently. I remember a lot of male agents who ran afoul of that rule over the years.”
“What did you do when that happened?”
“I just trained them better,” said Blum brightly.
She walked over to the Keurig machine on the credenza set against the wall and turned it on, pulling a pod out of a drawer at the same time.
When she walked into Pine’s office with the steaming cup of coffee, Pine was seated behind her desk. Blum set the cup