SOLDIER

Chapter Two

A few minutes later, we pulled up to a gorgeous brownstone at the end of a line of rowhouses. We drove around to a large garage attached to the back of the house. Following a series of beeps and access codes we were inside. In addition to the EXT, there was an Escalade (I guess the man has a thing for Cadillac's), a cherry red Corvette convertible, and a Harley V-Rod parked in the four-car garage.

"Holy crap, Lester! Are these all yours?"

"The Escalade is RangeMan's," he said, not answering the question.

"And the Corvette? It can't be yours…it's red." He shook his head slightly and gave a half laugh.

"The rest are mine. Believe it or not, Steph, black isn't the only color I like. The all-black thing is Ranger's deal, not mine."

I refrained from reminding him that the EXT and the motorcycle were black, but I guess my raised eyebrows clued him into what I was thinking.

"Doesn't mean black isn't cool as hell. I just like other colors, too."

"Fair enough. Why don't you drive the 'Vette around? I bet I would look pretty good in that car."

By the look that crossed his face momentarily, I could tell he was thinking I would look good on it as opposed to in it. He quickly composed himself. Lucky man.

"Gorgeous, I value that car too much to let you anywhere near it. Now let's go inside," he said, putting his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close to him in a mock choker hold and ushering me towards the door. I was too excited about seeing his house to come up with a good comeback, so I just let it slide.

We walked into a huge kitchen with exposed brick walls and dark hardwood floors. The cabinets were a deep walnut color, the countertops were black granite and the appliances were black to match the décor. There was a huge breakfast bar that overlooked a sunken great room and a formal dining room was off to the side. The place was beautiful.

"This is awesome, Lester." I knew that the guys did well for themselves at RangeMan, but I wasn't expecting such a beautiful, sophisticated house. For some reason, I pictured Lester living in a small apartment decorated with empty beer cans and posters of naked women. Shows what I know.

"Thanks. It's taken me a while, but I've finally got it just about where I want it. I've been restoring this old place since I moved to Trenton four years ago."

The man never ceases to amaze me.

We continued into the great room which was the epitome of rustic masculinity. Hardwood floors, dark wood wainscoting on the walls, deep brown oversized leather sofas and a huge floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace. In the corner was an oak staircase with a massive solid oak banister. The room was gorgeous, but what really caught my eye was the blanket spread on the floor directly in front of the fireplace.

On it was a picnic basket sitting next to a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket. I blinked a couple of times, unable to believe what I was seeing.

"A picnic," I squeaked. "You made me a picnic." I guess he was paying attention to my ramblings during the movie, after all.

"It's not exactly in a park on a warm, sunny day, but it's the best I could do this time of year."

"It's amazing. You are amazing. Thank you." I gave him a hug and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight. It felt so good to feel his arms around me. We've hugged lots of times, so why had I never noticed how good it felt before now?

"C'mon, let's eat," he said as he picked up a remote control and pressed a button. At once, a fire roared to life in the fireplace filling the room with a warm orange glow.

I just shook my head. "You are unbelievable, Lester Santos."

"Yeah, well, I try." The crooked grin was back in place. He led me over to the blanket and we sat down. He opened the basket and began laying out an enormous spread. Sandwiches, fruit, assorted cheeses, crackers, and to top it all off, a box of Tastykakes for dessert. He had even packed plates, cloth napkins, silverware, and champagne flutes.

"You own a picnic basket?" Nice, Plum. Of all the things to say. Lester just laughed.

"Yeah, and I keep all this stuff in my fridge, too. No, beautiful, I picked up a few things after I left your apartment earlier."

"Oh, okay." Is it weird that I'm relieved he didn't have a picnic basket lying around before today? I poured the champagne and we raised our glasses. "To friendship," I said.

A humorless smile played on his lips, "To friendship and to keeping you safe."

"I'll drink to that."

We spent the next hour feasting on all of the wonderful food Lester had prepared. He kept me entertained with stories of him and the guys, including a time Bobby was trying to impress a girl and offered to help her move into her new apartment. He wound up spending the entire weekend moving furniture and boxes, hanging pictures and even cleaning her old apartment. It wasn't until he started unpacking pictures of her and another guy that he discovered she had a boyfriend. At one point I was laughing so hard that champagne went up my nose, which, believe me, is not a pleasant feeling.

After a while, we settled into a comfortable silence. By this time the food had been put away and a pretty good dent had been made in the champagne. I helped Lester carry everything into the kitchen, but he insisted he'd clean up later. Now we were back on the blanket once again. I was lying on my back staring up at the ceiling, with my fingers entwined beneath my head. Lester was on his side, his long legs hanging well off the edge of the blanket.

As much as I was enjoying the stories, I couldn't help notice that they all started with 'this one time…' at band camp, I felt like adding. They were all about a particular event or situation. None of them told me what he or the other guys were really about. I'd spent three whole days with this man, and I still felt like I didn't really know anything about him. Maybe it was the slight buzz I had going, but I felt a surge of courage.

"Lester, can I ask you a question?" I turned to lay on my side, mirroring his position.

"Shoot."

"It's kind of personal, so please don't be offended. I'm just curious." He looked at me like I was crazy, but it was something I've been trying to figure out since the first night I met him when I helped out on the 'redecorating' job, so I asked anyway. "What race are you?"

As soon as I saw the look on his face, I immediately wished I had kept my mouth shut.

"I'm sorry, forget I asked. That was so rude." He just started laughing.

"Relax, Steph. I'm not offended. I just wasn't expecting it, that's all. To answer your question, I'm Puerto Rican, with a little bit of Filipino mixed in, from my dad's side."

Hmmm, that explains the exotic looking eyes and the delicious caramel colored skin.

"What about you?" he asked.

"Me?" I don't know why, but I was kind of surprised he wanted to know. I mean, it seems obvious why I'm curious about him and the rest of the guys. They are enigmas. But me? Why would he possibly be interested in learning more about me? Besides, I was pretty sure Ranger and his men knew more about the subject than I did.

"Yes, beautiful, you."

"Well, my mother's family is Hungarian. My father is Italian. I got my mouth from my father's side and my hormones from my mother's. Lucky me!" I said sarcastically.

"Well, I happen to think the combination of the two is pretty damn nice."

"I just happened to be thinking the same thing about you," I said, matching his grin. "So, Mr. Santos, tell me something else about yourself." It's worth a shot, right?

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything," I said with mock exasperation. "Where are you from? What's your family like? Did you always want to be a full-fledged badass?"

"What's with all the questions, beautiful?" he asked with a slight laugh. He may be amused, but I was starting to get annoyed. What is the deal with these guys and their super-secret lives?

"I just want to get to know you, alright? Geesh, what's the big deal? You know everything about me, but I don't know anything about you. Why are you guys so secretive all the time?" I could see his face close up and decided that maybe I'd pushed it too far. "You know what, Lester, forget I asked. If you don't want to share anything about yourself with me, then fine."

The words were out before I'd realized what I'd said. Great, now I've resorted to guilt-tripping. That's pretty low, even for me.

"Maybe I'm afraid you won't like what you hear." The smile in his voice was gone.

"I like what I know so far," I said softly.

He looked at me as if contemplating something. Evidently he decided to try me, because he let out a long breath and started speaking, "Look, Steph. I'm not trying to hide things from you. I want you to feel like you know me and are comfortable around me. It's just that my life hasn't been pretty. I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of, things I had to do to survive, things a nice girl from the Burg wouldn't understand."

I opened my mouth to tell him to shove it, but he held up a hand to stop me from commenting. I shut my mouth.

"Before you get offended, I know you aren't like most people from the Burg, but you have to admit you had it pretty good growing up there."

As much as I wanted to, I really couldn't argue with that. With the exception of a few unpleasant situations, mostly at the hand of one Joseph Morelli, my childhood had been fairly worry-free, maybe not for my parents, especially after my little flying episode, but for me at least. I nodded in consent.

"You already know Ranger's reasons for keeping quiet about his family and his past," he said.

Did I ever. I found out not too long ago that Ranger grew up in a very well-to-do family in Miami. His father was the president of a bank or something and Ranger and his siblings never really had to want for anything. He doesn't make that known now because, as he told me, 'It's not good for the rep, Babe.' I could understand that. It'd be hard to walk the streets as the mysterious and intimidating man in black if people knew you went to private schools and got a Beamer from daddy on your sixteenth birthday. Not that Ranger was soft, anything but. He may not have grown up on the streets, but he had more street smarts than most people who did.

I nodded my head and Lester continued, "My situation is about as different from his as you can get. Are you sure you want to hear this?"

How bad can it be? He turned out pretty great, if you ask me. It couldn't have been that bad, right? I nodded my head again.

"I grew up in New York City, in the Bronx. There were four of us, my mother, my older brother, Mario, my twin sister, Leila, and me."

"You have a twin sister? That's so cool! What's she like?" His eyes narrowed and his left eyebrow shot up. I guess I'm not supposed to be interrupting. "Sorry. Keep going." He shook his head as if asking himself why he was bothering.

"We lived in a tiny one-bedroom apartment. My father died when I was four. I don't remember too much about him, nothing good anyway. He got messed up with drugs and eventually started dealing. From what I understand, he stole some money from his supplier and wound up taking a bullet to the chest."

"I'm so sorry, Lester." It seemed so inadequate, but I didn't know what else to say.

"Don't be. He was scum. He used to beat us, me, Mario, and my mom. He never touched Leila, thank God. I guess he had some sort of conscience. Mario would try to protect me and my mom, but that only earned him a few extra poundings every night. Not one of us shed a tear when he died. Everyone kept telling us how sorry they were, and I couldn't understand why. The only emotion I had after he was killed was relief that I wouldn't have to be afraid of him anymore. It's a hell of a thing to have to worry about when you're barely four years old."

I just listened to him in silence. I had a sick feeling in my stomach, just imaging what that was like for him to have gone through, and knowing that whatever I was imagining, the truth was probably worse.

"Looking back, the only bad thing was that my mother had to work extra hard to keep food on our table and clothes on our backs. My mother is the most amazing person I've ever known. She worked two full-time jobs in addition to raising the three of us. She's tough, too. You don't mess with Mama Santos," he said with a smile, the first of such since we began this conversation. "She did her best, but I sure as hell didn't make it easy on her. Mario was the good one, hard-working and honest. He knew there was more to life than being a street thug, which is what most guys in my neighborhood were. He kept me in line, kept my head on straight, but when he graduated high school, he joined the Army and moved away. Leila and I were thirteen at the time, and without my big brother there keeping me straight, I went downhill fast. I started running with the wrong type of kids. I got messed up with drugs, drinking, crime. I started carrying. I became one of those street thugs that Mario swore he would never be. I dropped out of high school when I was sixteen. I knew it was killing my mother, watching me throw my life away, but I was too stupid and rebellious to give a shit and she didn't have the energy to fight me on it, so I did it anyway," he said with sadness and remorse in his voice.

"Then, one day, when I was seventeen, I was hanging out with my so-called friends. We stopped at a gas station for cigarettes. I waited in the car while they ran inside. Little did I know at the time, but they'd also decided to rob the place. They held the clerk at gunpoint and forced him to empty his register. They got $85 out of it. Apparently they thought he was holding back, so they shot him. They ran out of the store and jumped in the car. They had blood splattered all over them and I was too scared to move, so I just sat there, frozen, while we drove off. I guess someone in the back of the store stayed hidden during the robbery and called the cops and was able to describe the two guys and the car. Not even an hour later, I was cuffed and sitting in the back of a black and white. I sat in a cell that night scared to death that I was going to spend the rest of my life there. It took them a day to decide I didn't have anything to do with it and to drop the accomplice charges, but they got me on possession of drugs and for carrying. I was charged as an adult and spent six months behind bars. The two guys I was with are still sitting in jail today with a murder rap and an innocent man is dead. All for $85."

He paused and I could see the sadness written all over his face. After a few moments, he shook his head slightly as if jarring himself back into the present and continued.

"Anyway, my brother was home on leave when I got out of jail, and when I saw him for the first time, I almost wished I could go back to lockup. Needless to say, he was not happy with the decisions I'd made. After he kicked me ass, literally, he made me get my GED and then he dragged me down to the Army recruiter's office and got me enlisted. I fought him on it, because that's what I did at that point in my life. I fought anyone who tried to tell me what to do, but inside I was grateful. I saw the man he had become, strong, intelligent, respected and I wanted that, too. I'd wanted that since the first night in jail when I was scared shitless and realized I was just a stupid street punk."

I met his eyes and smiled. "Lester, the way you described your brother is exactly the way I would describe you. You became the man you wanted to be. You turned your life around."

"Yeah, I did, but I owe a lot to Mario. Without him I don't think I'd be alive right now, let alone on this side of the law."

I couldn't believe how much he'd told me already, but I decided to press my luck and see if I could get any more. There was still so much I wanted to know, like how all the guys got to know each other. I knew they were in the army together, but just knowing the bond the four of them have, I had a feeling there was more to it.

"So, you enlisted. Is that when you met Ranger, Tank and Bobby?"

"No, I didn't meet those guys for a couple of years. Ric, Tank and Bobby were in the same unit of the Special Forces as my brother. They were Rangers together and the four of them were real tight. Since the day I joined up, I wanted to be Special Forces, too. After a couple of years, the powers that be decided that I'd proved myself and I started training to be a Ranger. Mario had some connections and had made a name for himself over the years, so he was able to get me reassigned to his unit. That's when I met the guys."

"Okay, I've been wondering about this for a while. If all of you were Rangers, then why is Ric the only one nicknamed Ranger?"

"Because he's the best," he said matter-of-factly. "The name Ranger signifies the best of the best. We are all Rangers, but there is only one Ranger. It's a title that gets passed down. Once you become Ranger, you carry that title until you die, but there is always one Ranger in active duty. When the current Ranger retires, he names the next one. If he gets killed, the unit votes for the best guy to take over the title. Before Ric became Ranger, my brother was Ranger."

"You're kidding! That's so cool! So, Mario retired and picked Ranger, I mean Ric, to become Ranger."

"Mario didn't retire, Steph."

He didn't retire? Then that means…

"Oh God, Lester, I'm so sorry."

"We were somewhere in central Africa, an undisclosed location. I can't tell you where. I can't even tell my mother where her son died."

"Its okay, Les, you don't have to tell me any of this. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Even though I meant it, I still hoped he'd tell me. I was dying to know.

"Steph, I've never really talked about this to anyone. It's probably time I do, if you don't mind. It feels kind of good to finally get it out." I smiled at him. I was getting to learn so much about Lester Santos, the man, and if this was at all therapeutic for him, even better!

He gave me a small smile before his face went blank and his gaze landed somewhere in the distance. If I was guessing, I'd say he was seeing the events of that day as clear right now as they had been when it actually happened. When he spoke, his voice was detached and emotionless.

"Like I said, we were in Africa. There was political and social upheaval all around us. Innocent people were being tortured and killed by rebels. A group of rebel forces had trapped about 200 local people, mostly women and children, inside a church and were threatening to bomb the place. Our mission was to go in and rescue the civilians. When we arrived, the scene was relatively quiet. There were five rebels guarding the church. After a quick exchange of gunfire, the guards were no longer a threat and half of our unit went inside the church, while the other half stood watch over the perimeter. I was outside, along with Bobby, Tank, and a few other guys. Mario and Ric were among the guys who went inside. They quickly ushered the civilians outside to safety. The operation went down smoothly, or so we thought. Apparently, Mario heard or saw something that no one else did. I watched as he stopped, turned around and stared into the church for a few seconds, then he took off in a dead sprint back inside. While he was inside, a truck barreled through the barricades we had established and drove right through the back of the church. There was an explosion. It was a suicide bomber. The guys who were watching the back of the building tried to stop him, but you can't stop a suicide bomber, you can only hope to minimize the damage he causes, the number of lives he takes with him.

"The building started shaking and it looked like it was going to collapse, and I knew Mario was still inside. I wanted to run in after him, but I knew the building was too unstable, so I waited, trusting that he would come out. Then, finally, I saw him stumble through the front doors carrying something. As soon as he was outside, he fell to his knees, letting whatever he was holding fall softly to the ground. It was a little boy. The kid stood up and ran off as Mario collapsed onto the ground. He must have sheltered the kid with his body, because the little boy didn't have a scratch on him, while my brother's body had obviously taken the full effects of the explosion. I ran to him as fast as I could, but I was pretty far away, so Ric got to him first," he paused and took a deep breath.

I felt a tear roll down my cheek and wiped it away with the back of my hand. I could tell it was really hard for him to talk about all of this, to relive it. There wasn't anything I could say to ease his pain, so I just listened and waited for him to continue.

"He was coherent and talking when I knelt down beside him. I held his hand as Ric tried to stop the bleeding, but there was just too much. Mario looked at me and I could see in his eyes that he knew he was dying, but he didn't show any fear. He told me he loved me and he was proud of me and to tell Mama and Leila he loved them, too. I told him I loved him and I told him…"

He paused, shutting his eyes so tightly that creases appeared. He was biting his bottom lip but that didn't stop it from quivering. He let out a long breath.

"I told him thanks for always taking care of me and for helping me change my life around. The last words he said were 'You're worth it, little brother.'"

By this point, I was crying to the point of sobbing. It should be me comforting Lester right now, but instead, he pulled me to him and gently rubbed my back and whispered in my ear.

"Shhh, Steph. Please don't cry. You keep this up and I'll break down, too, and nobody wants to see that." I half laughed.

"I'm sorry, it's just so sad and beautiful and tragic."

"Yeah, I know. That's the kind of guy Mario was. He was a hero in life and in death. Every decision I've made since that day I've made by imagining what Mario would have done. He's still taking care of me, even if he's not here. Not that he gave me much of a choice," he said, the smile finally returning to his voice.

"What do you mean?" I asked, pulled my head back and looking up at him.

"Ric told me what he and Mario talked about in the short time it took me to run to him after he came out of the church. Mario made Ric promise that he would always look after me. When Ric agreed, Mario looked him in the eye and said, 'You're a good man, Ranger.' So as of that moment, Ricardo Carlos Manoso became Ranger. He's stayed true to his word and kept an eye out for me ever since. Ranger, Tank, Bobby and I continued to serve together for a few more years. After a particularly difficult mission, which had us stationed overseas for two and a half years, all four of us were honorably discharged. Ranger moved to Trenton and started RangeMan and brought the three of us on with him. That was four years ago, and we've been here ever since."

"Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me all of that. I know it's hard for you to talk about yourself, especially with everything you've been through. They could seriously make a movie about your life. It would be one hell of a drama."

"Drama, huh? I'd prefer action-adventure."

"At least it's not a comedy, which is what the story of my life would be," I said with perhaps just a hint of bitterness.

Lester looked at me, his face completely serious. "You're life is not a joke, Stephanie."

"Yeah, tell that to everyone I've ever met," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Your real friends don't think your life is a joke. It's certainly not to me and I can name three other guys who don't consider your life a joke either." I'm guessing he's referring to Ranger, Tank and Bobby since those are the only three people we know in common, with the exception of Joe Morelli, but we both know Morelli's never taken my life seriously.

"You guys only take me seriously because I've almost gotten you killed."

"I take you seriously because you're intelligent, you have killer intuition, and you're good at what you do." I gave him a 'yeah, right' look, which he ignored, "So what if you're not be the most efficient bounty hunter out there, you get the job done one way or another and you don't let anything stop you. But, most importantly, I take you seriously because I care about you. We all do."

I gave him a small smile. "Thanks, Lester. I don't know how I got mixed up with all you guys, but I'm so glad that I did."

"Me, too, Stephanie. Me, too," he said returning my smile. "Alright, beautiful, you know my whole story. Now, let me ask you a question. What's going on with you and Ranger?"

"What do you mean?" I knew what he meant. In fact, I've been asking myself the same question for months now.

"I mean, you guys obviously have something going on, but is it what you want?"

"It used to be," I sighed. "I don't know, Lester. We have this casual, no-strings thing going. It's not even worthy of being called a relationship. Hell, the only time it's progressed beyond kissing was because of a stupid deal and afterwards he told me to go back to Morelli."

"He made a deal with you that ended up with him in your bed?" he asked, not hiding his disbelief.

"He offered to help with a skip in exchange for one night. I ended up needing his help and he collected on his end of the deal." I could see his jaw clenching. "I know it sounds bad, but in reality, it was just an excuse to do what was bound to happen anyway. I wasn't forced or obligated to do anything I didn't want to do, if that's what you're thinking. I think you know Ranger enough to know that he wouldn't force me into anything."

"Yeah, but that's still a pretty backhanded way to get you into bed."

"Maybe so, but that's how it happened and I was fine with it. I was okay with the 'no-commitment' thing, but lately, I don't know. I think I want something more."

"With him?"

Our eyes were locked and his gaze was like truth serum. I was saying things that I hadn't even let up from my subconscious yet, but I instantly knew every word was true.

"I don't think so," I said, shaking my head sadly. "I care about him so much and I do love him, I really do, but if we were ever to try a serious relationship, one of us would have to change. He would have to let me into his life or I would have to learn to be okay with him keeping things from me. One of us would have to become someone we aren't and I think we would end up resenting each other. I just don't think it would work. I'm not willing to risk losing his friendship."

"Have you told him this?"

"I hadn't even told myself this until just now. Why? Has he said something to you? Does he want more?" For the first time in eight months that thought panicked me.

"I don't know what he wants. I'm asking what you want."

"I want more," I said softly.

"For what it's worth, Steph, I think you deserve to be happy and if you want a relationship, you owe it to yourself to find one, even if it's not with Ranger."

I thought about what he said for a minute. I knew he was right and I knew I was right in realizing that Ranger and I could never be more than friends.

"Thanks, Lester," I said, giving him the umpteenth hug of the day. "You really are a good friend."

He kissed me on top of the head and looked at his watch. "I'm such a good friend that I'm not going to let you be late for dinner. We'd better go."

"Do we have to?" I whined. The mood instantly felt lighter. Thank goodness, I'm not sure how much more of this emotional heart-to-heart stuff I can take for one day.

"You have to. I don't have to go anywhere near your grandmother."

"Oh, come on, big guy, it's not that bad. You're bigger than she is."

"Yeah, but from what I hear, she's a hell of a lot scarier."