|Playing on the boys team
Author: parmakai66 PM
Tall, blonde and legs didn’t grow up to be soldiers, but this girl was out to prove everyone wrong.Rated: Fiction T - English - Chapters: 16 - Words: 35,755 - Reviews: 23 - Favs: 12 - Follows: 5 - Updated: 06-26-09 - Published: 06-10-09 - Status: Complete - id: 5128822
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: The Unit and its characters do not belong to me. If they did, I wouldn't have cancelled one of the best shows on the tube. In meantime, I'm inviting them to my house for a party. Sue me if you will, but you'll have to get in line behind the student loan people, my mortgage company and my credit card.
A/N: I was so sad over the cancellation. I just rewatched final season and had a thought, so I decided to go with it. Read and enjoy. Reviews are always appreciated. I'm posting this early for AngieJR because she's having withdrawls.
Playing on the boys team.
"Where'ya from?" the blonde asked the park ranger seconds after listening to the National Guard sit rep over the walkie.
In a whirlwind twenty-four hours, Army Warrant Officer Bridget Sullivan had successfully locked up a two-year undercover mission to expose a big bad guy in a terrorist ring, she met with a special forces operative and helped his team move in to make the arrest and then jumped a plane with the same team to head back to the states. They had barely crossed into US airspace when they learned that yet another terrorist organization had killed the Vice President elect, attempted to kill the President and President elect. Bridget volunteered her services to the Special Forces team lead, who eagerly took her up on the offer, and then immediately dumped her in the ranger station while the team searched for the bad guys in the woods.
"Colorado Springs," the man replied looking at Bridget with a perplexed expression on his face. "And you?"
"Central Iowa," she replied wistfully. It bugged her that she was stuck in the ranger station. I survived with a terrorist for the past twelve months for criss-sake, I'm not dainty nor do I need to be handled with kid-gloves, she thought looking out over the horizon. "Have you ever heard anyone call a buck a stag?" she half asked half stated.
"Not around these parts," the man said.
"Me either," she replied looking back at him with an odd smile. "I think the bad guys are playing soldiers and Indians."
"What? The bad guys are pretending to be soldiers?" the ranger confirmed shaking his head. "Your guy just said he was taking that sergeant with him."
"I know," Bridget replied staring out the window of the ranger station. Knowing the bad guys were playing soldier and being able to do anything about it were entirely different things. Luckily, for Bridget, thinking on the fly was her forte. "What did he say his name was?"
What Bridget Sullivan had to prove about herself with this team was no different than anything she had faced in her entire army career. Women like Bridget didn't join the army. Tall, blonde, legs and breasts didn't grow up to be soldiers, but nothing else satisfied her. She lived the life to appease her father, graduated from a notable college and attempted to survive in corporate life. After enduring a three years of groping hands and innuendoes from hypocritical corporate executives, she threw her power suit in the trash and opted for army fatigues and combat boots instead.
She was none too welcome among the ranks. Labeled with the Private Benjamin stigma, Bridget Sullivan had to work ten times hard than anyone else to prove she wasn't just a pretty girl in a skirt. She toiled long hard hours to make a name for herself and ironically found her niche in the undercover division at the Department of Defense. She was her division's secret weapon. The bad guys never suspected her of anything more than a set of legs. She never let the good guys get close enough to use her for anything that wasn't completely within the regs. Success was her only objective and it became her life. The downside of being so by the book was the loneliness that enveloped her. While it was easy to go on her last mission, acquiring assets and worming herself into the cadre of a terrorist cell, she missed the basics of friendship with good honest people.
Bridget hadn't even realized how much she missed it until she looked into Bob Brown's eyes when she passed him information at the bar. Then there was that expression on Jonas Blaine's face when he met with her guy for the first time and the banter with Mack Gerhardt and Charles Gray on the plane back to the states. Now she was working side by side with this team, answering to the call sign Jonas had assigned her on the fly. She was part of this thing by default and she wasn't going to hang them out to dry.
The buzz of an incoming text alerted Bridget to her phone and she read the message quickly. My moment of truth, she thought as she picked up the radio and keyed the mic.
"Go fast Red Cap, the comm's dying."
"Snakedoc, is there anyone not on the team near you?"
"I heard over the comm. Sergeant Ross said he shot an eight point stag. No one from Colorado calls a buck a stag."
"Maybe he's not from Colorado," Snakedoc replied. It was clear that he was annoyed with her. Bridget wasn't giving an inch.
"Negative. He specifically said he grew up around here," Bridget replied firmly. "He didn't come from nowhere because I checked and there isn't a Sergeant Ross in the Colorado National Guard. You got a bogey. He's the opposition."
That was the start of something, whether it was trust or not was debatable … but it was something. Bridget knew by paying attention and identifying the opposition, she had saved alpha team's asses. Getting the boys to admit it was another story entirely. Regardless of how the credit was placed, her actions earned her a spot on the team. So what if her first order of business was to do Ryan's dirty work with the alpha and bravo team wives? Bridget knew how to play the game well enough and in the end, the payoff was worth it. She was on the inside of the army's most elite team, an all boys club and come hell or highwater, she was damn sure going to stay.