6. Andrie #2
Gideon spoke up now. “Actually, it’s yours regardless.
Unlike my sister, I’m not nearly as devious.
But we were hoping you’d set aside some hours for our staff, maybe even go through some files of prospective personnel HR is vetting?
We’ll get you an office in the regular part of the building so A.T.
employees will have a place to see you, and so you have a cover for being in the office.
Most of our employees are former military.
If they see you coming and going but can’t track down an office or position for you, someone will notice eventually,” he explained.
“And if you could possibly teach a class or two in the future for others looking to expand their education so they can better help their own patients.”
I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my knees and ignored his last sentence.
“You caught Michael Tomelson before he was hired,” I began, reading Gideon Accardi like a book.
His words might be casual, but the intensity of his stare belayed his desire for a separate review of applicants’ mental states prior to, and after, being hired by A.T.
He shook his head. “But we would have missed it. His not being hired had nothing to do with a red flag of his mental state and everything to do with the former HR director cutting corners. We’ve always assumed that clean psych reviews from their departments were sufficient, but that’s not always the case. ”
I swallowed hard, remembering Gia’s retelling of her abduction. “No. No, it’s not.”
“Especially when we’re in charge of training the next generation of badass soldiers,” Lessia said, injecting just a slight amount of humor into the situation.
“I’ve got to admit, it sounds like a good idea. At least, in theory,” I admitted. “Have you talked to, uh, upper management yet?” No matter how good the security, I never felt like I could utter their names without whispering.
“Not exactly. I mean, not about you specifically. I didn’t want to presume. But the triplet’s digs are being set up there, too. You know, among others,” she said pointedly.
“So, you did this entire project just so you could keep us close?”
She sniffed. “I prefer the word safe, thank you very much. I got the idea from the bank over in Italy. Some of the bank tellers aren’t actually bank tellers.
They’re account managers who help clean donated and confiscated money for victims starting over.
Here, our operatives will be able to hide in plain sight, right in the middle of other military and former military employees. ”
A slow smile crossed my face. “You can’t pick out operatives in a building full of operatives.”
“Exactly.” She beamed. “Plus, the security around the entire building is pretty much iron tight. At least, from a surveillance perspective. No one’s getting into what’s ours. Not unless they have an RPG or tank.”
“And you’re alright with me taking outside patients?” I was a little skeptical on that front.
“Well, the ones with the right military clearances will be no problem. We still have to work out logistics for the rest, and that’s why I thought you might want to keep this office.
Your human trafficking patients wouldn’t be comfortable coming to an office filled with meat-heads, and families wouldn’t feel as comfortable there as they do here, either.
But your active duty military will probably jump at the chance to switch. ”
I nodded, thinking it over. “Not a bad idea. At least for now.”
“It’s settled then.” Gideon rose. “We can reach out to … upper management … and finalize the details.”
“When do you think you’ll be able to organize an office move?” Lessia looked around. “Or partial move? I guess you really don’t need to move anything since this one is staying. You just need time to tell the patients who are moving to the new address and decorate a new office. Well, two, really.”
“Yes, but I can’t tell patients until I know which ones are cleared to transfer.
And I can’t send over patient names for vetting until I get the all-clear from my superiors,” I reminded her, not bringing up my thoughts on a total dispersal of my patients and moving from this office as well.
It was something I’d have to think about at length before deciding anything.
But Lessia had been right last night when she’d tried, in her own way, to shake me up.
Maybe I was getting too settled into my routine …
too boring. And while I wasn’t about to go light up the town—one one-night stand was more than enough excitement—perhaps a small change would be good.
If I was already moving patients around, why not move the rest to a building more suited for the ones staying with me outside the A.T. office?
The spark of spontaneity was so reminiscent of my choice to spend a semester abroad—something I’d gone from never thinking about to totally committing to in a ten-minute conversation—had me swallowing hard.
“Until I get clearances, I can’t do much, I’m afraid,” I said, getting back to the matter at hand.
Gideon nodded in understanding, but Lessia rolled her eyes, muttering something about rules and what I should do with protocols, but we both ignored her.
“We’ll get out of your hair,” Gideon said, half-guiding, half-pushing his sister toward the door. “As soon as everything is in place, I’ll let you know.”
“I supposed you would feel more comfortable continuing our sessions at Accardi Tactical?” I asked. “We could do them after hours, if you’d like?”
“Not a bad idea,” Lessia mused. “We can at least start transferring family members’ appointments. Why don’t you come back with us? You can decide what office you’d like. At least, the office in the building. It’ll be a few more weeks before we can safely go to the one down there.”
Thinking about my day, I knew I needed a distraction, and one couldn’t find a better one than Lessia Accardi.