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“It’s the gun thing,” Melanie whispered.
Justin let out a loud guffaw. “It hadn’t occurred to you?”
“You know something? I am not as smart as I think I am.” Melanie put her hands on her hips. “I wasn’t really thinking what I was getting myself into.”
“The dichotomy of Melanie.” Justin leaned against the kitchen counter. Melanie handed him the crabmeat, red onion, celery, and mayo.
“Here. Get busy.” She washed the avocados, split them in half, and removed the pits. She squeezed some lemon juice on them so they wouldn’t turn brown too quickly. “Dichotomy. Using four-syllable words now, eh?”
“Just because I wasn’t a straight-A student doesn’t mean I don’t know words.” He chuckled. “You always looked at the big picture, but I guess you weren’t focusing on the details.” He pulled a clean fork from the drawer and took a taste of his shellfish concoction. “I don’t believe I am saying this, but don’t be too hard on yourself.” He snickered. “You had zip adult experience. Everything was theoretical.”
She directed the knife she was holding at her brother. Not as a threat, but to make a point. “Exactly!” Her eyes widened. “Remember Mr. Cosgrove? The economics teacher?”
“Sure. He made us read the newspaper.”
“Yes. And you know what he emphasized? Be aware.” She scooped out some of the avocado flesh and put it in a bowl. “How did I not see that coming?”
“Didn’t you ever watch NCIS? Or any of those other military shows?”
“Not really.” Melanie was not a habitual television watcher.
“So what you’re telling me is that you had no idea you would have to have firearm training?”
“I thought I was training to be an intelligence specialist. You know, one of those people who sits at a desk and analyzes stuff.”
Justin laughed. “Oh, that will come, too. But you may be called to do surveillance. You’ll need to be able to defend yourself.”
“I thought that was what you guys were for.”
Justin could not contain his amusement over his sister’s inexperience and expectations. “Things sure are different in the real world, aren’t they?”
“You’re not kidding.”
“So what’s the problem? Did you fail?”
“Certainly not! I may not have enjoyed it, but I was going to be good at it.” She pouted.
“Don’t worry, sis. You will probably never be in the situation to have to use that training. There are other people around who are firearms experts, but you need to know how to defend yourself should something go wrong.”
“I get it.” She wiped her hands and began to make guacamole with the leftover avocado. “I didn’t tell Mom and Dad.”
“Good thinkin’. We already went through the ‘talk Mom off the ledge’ exercise last night.”
“True.” She smirked.
Justin put his arm around her. “Don’t think about it. They’ll let you know if and when you will need your gun, and in any case, you’ll know when to use it. You won’t be out in the field right away, so take your own advice. Don’t worry about it.”
The rest of the day and the day after were exactly what everyone needed, some R&R. Come Monday, Justin would be reporting to an undisclosed location, and Melanie would be reporting for duty at Anacostia. As they said their affectionate goodbyes, Dorothy blotted the tears from her cheeks.
* * *
Anacostia was less than thirty minutes away, but Melanie planned on giving herself plenty of time, knowing how congested the beltway would be. There were alternate routes, but one wasn’t necessarily any less crowded than another. The once little-known back roads were no longer little-known. Where did all these people come from?
Chapter Eight
Moving On
When she arrived at the gate, she went through the usual clearance process, showing ID, having her photo taken, the phone call to her immediate supervisor, and the directions to a specific parking spot for her car. Once on base, everything was noted and tracked. No one was getting in or out without being under surveillance. She walked through another security area and handed over the safety case that contained her Glock 9mm pistol. “We’ll keep this until you’re ready to leave the base,” the guard explained and gave her a chip, as if it were a coat check.
