The next morning I approached the loose grouping of Whistler recruits within a large conference room wearily. I knew I hadn’t done any permanent harm to Vincent and Brett the night before, but what I didn’t know was how Whistler would handle that sort of violence outside of a training ring. I was hoping that Brett and Vincent wouldn’t rat on me due to the fact that I was a woman. Men like them did not like to admit when they get beat up by a girl half their size.
I had purposefully arrived exactly on time to avoid small talk with the members of the recruitment class. This strategy seemed to work because moments after I walked through the glass doors, into the large room that resembled a classroom with chairs facing a podium, a burly man with bright red hair and a grisly looking beard, whistled loudly to gain everyone’s attention. Once the room was quiet and the redheaded man had everyone’s attention he used a low gravelly voice to tell everyone to take a seat.
Standing in the front of the room were three men besides the red-headed guy. The one that stood out the most was Cole Bennet, the founder and CEO of the Whistler Corporation. Mr. Bennet’s tall frame was expertly draped in a black tailored suit with a crisp white shirt that contrasted with the dark tanned hue of his skin. His salt-and-pepper hair was cut short and gave him a severe military look. I had no problem identifying Mr. Bennet from last year's cover of Forbes magazine where he was advertised as one of the wealthiest men in America.
My attention was drawn away from the men up front when I saw Oliver search the crowd until his eyes met mine. He gave me a goofy smile as everyone moved towards the chairs. I was surprised how that smile caused warmth to spread within me. I was not used to people being happy to simply see me. Oliver quickly pushed through the crowd to take a seat next to me and I immediately felt less alone. This instinctive feeling of comradery was completely foreign to me and I had no idea why I seemed to be at ease around Oliver. I wasn’t at ease around anyone. I didn’t trust anyone. I had learned the hard way on multiple occasions to keep my guard up at all times.
I barely had time to look over Oliver’s black eye and exchange a quick good morning before Cole stepped up to the podium. I would have to ponder my reaction to Oliver later.
“Hello Whistler recruits, my name is Cole Bennet,” Mr. Bennet announced to the room then stepped to the side of the podium and leaned against it with his hands in his pockets in a manner that made his speech seem less formal. “I am going to assume because you have all been through our comprehensive application process, you know what the Whistler Corporation is and that you are here to become a part of our team. Hundreds of applications came across our desk and out of all of those extremely qualified people, we believe that you are talented enough to work alongside our current Whistler agents.
“This six-week training program that you are about to embark on has two main purposes. First, background checks and resumes can only tell you so much about a person. We want to experience your strengths first hand and get a good understanding of your weaknesses. We are not pushing you to your limits just for the fun of it. Whistler operates with a system of small groups of agents that work well together to ensure a high quality of work for every job we undertake. In order to ensure you end up with the team that matches best with your set of skills and personality, we need to understand what drives you. What scares you. What situations you thrive within, and conversely what situations you struggle with.”
Cole shifted to stand up straight as his gaze moved to scan the eyes of his audience. I felt a jolt of power and awareness hit me as his eyes met mine. Mr. Bennet held my gaze for a split second causing my stomach to drop. I didn’t want anyone understanding me, especially not someone like Cole Bennet. I didn’t want anyone to see the despicable monster that coiled within my soul.
“Some of our assessments will be formed from your day-to-day interactions and your overall performance. While in other areas we will be specifically testing you to how you react to certain situations. All conclusions and test results will remain unknown to you and your peers. This program is not a contest. So please try to focus on only your performance.” I metaphorically rolled my eyes at this. If the testosterone show I had witnessed last night was anything to go by, I guessed most things would turn into an all-out competition.
“The second purpose of this program is to actually match you with a Whistler group. During the last half of the six-week program, all the available Whistler groups will return here. Our current agents will observe and interact with you. The group leaders will have access to your files and any assessments we have made. Some groups may only be looking for a single new member while newly promoted leaders will be looking for ideal members to start their team with.”
As Cole continued to speak about the process of getting chosen for a team, dread started to accumulate in my stomach. When I had heard about a private security firm that maintained government contracts with all of the US military branches including the CIA, NSA, FBI, and other three-letter organizations, I had jumped at the idea of working on the side of the good guys. I had figured that I could utilize the skills I learned at the hands of The Family to keep people safe. I had a cosmic debt of pain and suffering to repay. And I had been planning to do that through Whistler. But I didn’t foresee having to win a popularity contest in order to join a team. I was a lot of things, but a team player wasn’t one of them.
“If you are approached by more than one team at the end of this program, it will be up to you to choose which one you want to be a part of. If none of our current teams are the right fit for you, we will consider placing you in one of the positions within Whistler that do not function within a team.” In response to this, I heard someone mutter pity position in pay role under their breath. Is that what I can look forward to? Number crunching behind a desk. I pondered that for a moment and then figured it was better than the prison cell that I should be rotting in. At least I couldn’t hurt anyone from behind a desk.
“That being said,” Cole continued, “Whistler may not be the right place for all of you. The agents working with you through this program intimately know the goals and needs of Whistler. Thus, they know when some individuals do not embody what we believe in, and won’t be a good fit here. At any point within this program, you may be asked to leave. These decisions are final, and I would ask that you respect those decisions.”
Meaning that they didn’t want you to make a scene when they drop you from the program. If or when they ask me to leave, I’m sure I will have no problem leaving without a fight. I was already starting over. If I fail at this, it wouldn’t take much to start again. I allowed that thought to combat the dread that was sitting like a stone in my stomach. I would take this one day at a time and would keep my expectations low.
Oliver’s arm brushed against mine as he shifted in his chair. Maybe he was thinking of the possibility of being asked to leave Whistler too. I recalled the dreamy look he had when he spoke of working with his brother’s team last night. He was clearly passing on a lot of opportunities to be here. But if someone were to play the game of what does not belong with the rest, Oliver and I would be the smart choice. I glanced over at where Elena was sitting, but her face didn’t give her thoughts about Mr. Bennet’s speech away.
I had looked up the employee demographic stats for the Whistler Corporation. Twenty percent of their workforce was female. However, most of this twenty percent were employed in behind-the-scenes jobs like accounting, PR, and marketing. As far as I could tell only three women worked as a part of the active security teams that employed over 200 men. I knew that women didn’t migrate towards jobs in security as much as men but only three women seemed abnormally low. Maybe being female was against what they believe in here at Whistler.
My attention was recaptured as Mr. Bennet gestured to the three men standing off in the corner. “I would like you to meet the agents responsible for leading you through this program. This is Ford, Griffin, and Dwight.” The red-headed man that had whistled earlier was Ford. He appeared even shorter than I originally thought as he stood near the other two men. Griffin was a large black man that must have weighed at least 250 pounds. The visible skin of his hulking arms was covered in tribal tattoos and he made Ford look like a dwarf as they stood side-by-side. Dwight on the other hand screamed redneck southern boy. He even had cowboy boots and a large belt buckle to encourage the stereotype. They couldn’t have picked three different looking men.
Ford, the only one dressed in the same workout clothes that we had been provided with, stepped forward and with a frown and barked at the room to get off our asses and go on a run with him. In the ensuing silence, Ford walked past us and out of the conference room. I mused that it was possible that Ford’s voice was so rough because of lack of use, he was clearly a man of few words.
When all the recruits remained in their chairs, Dwight gave a little chuckle and stated in a southern drawl, “He is not going to wait for you. Better hurry.” Once his words sunk in, chairs scraped back, and all the recruits scurried to catch up with Ford.
“I guess we are going for a run now,” Oliver stated in a dry tone. I quickly scanned him and was surprised that Oliver didn’t seem to enjoy running. With long legs and lean muscle tone, he certainly had the physique for running. I didn’t really have a runner’s body but had always loved it. When I ran I was able to block out the pain, fear, and expectations that always threatened to crush me and focus on nothing more than my next footfall on the pavement.
In the next few hours, I became increasingly glad that running was one of my hobbies because Ford didn’t lead us on a nice warm-up jog around the block. The Whistler Corporation compound is located directly outside of the Helena National Forest in Montana. Ford led us through the back-security gates and continued on to a small footpath that traveled into the national park. At first, I thought that Ford was keeping a very conservative pace, but when the path started to rise in elevation, I was grateful for the slower speed. I didn’t get to run up many hills in New York City.
At the onset of the run, the group maintained a tight single-file line with Ford leading. As the run progressed and Ford showed no indication of turning back, the spacing in between the runners started to increase. Some of the guys would pass the runners in front of them and a small group of the most determined stuck to Ford’s heels.
I knew I could have kept up with the front runners, but I didn’t really want to leave Oliver behind. It wasn’t like I owed him anything, but I kept seeing that dreamy look in his eyes when he talked about joining a Whistler team. I had never let myself want something as much as Oliver wanted to get through this program. And I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he deserved it more than I did. I also had serious reservations if I could, or would want to, work within a close-knit team.
The more I thought about my decision to come here the more I started to question it. But even if I didn’t end up on a Whistler team, I decided I could help Oliver get on one.
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