Chapter 278: Welcome to Manpower
A group of six men and women dressed in Manpower Security uniforms were on duty at the main entrance. Four of them were leaning against walls or sitting on the desk. The two new recruits stood at attention with their hands behind their backs as they'd been taught during the six-week course offered by their local Community College. Roger was large, muscled like a football player, and always smiling. Marisa lacked his confidence, rarely talking and looking worried as they stood the first shift of their first day on the job. With most of their staff in Geneva, the bulk of Manpower Security looking for Belinda Seimovich, and the increasing number of 'other people' roaming the halls of Sections E and H, the few people left staffing Manpower were taxed and pulling double shifts for the near future. John had contacted a temp security firm and hired two dozen new employees on thirty-day contracts. The first few had arrived, been given a uniform, and put to work.
Marisa had a lot of questions and finally overcame her nervousness. "Do we always have a full squad of six at the main entrance? This seems like a bit of an overkill. Do we have to worry about rowdy habbies?"
Dave, who was nominally in charge of the squad, having worked at Manpower the longest and got the one chair, laughed at her nickname for the residents. "Habbies? That's a new one. I'm used to hearing people call them Hab-rats. Where are you from?"
"Just moved to Philadelphia; my folks moved around a lot. Dad was military and then para-military. I was born in Brazil, but we spent time in St. Petersburg and Hamburg. I picked up words all over. Find a big city in North America or Europe, and you have a habitat nearby."This chapter was first shared on the Ñøv€lß1n platform.
One of the other guys, James, immediately seemed interested. Whether it was interest in the new female recruit or in learning Russian was debated by the other guys later. "Did you actually learn the languages or the accents? I've been trying to learn Russian, and it's killing me. I could use some help with it."
Marisa rattled off some words in both languages. "I speak them like a native, with all the slang and cursing. I'd probably fail a formal class in Russian. I won't be a lot of help with conjugating verbs or talking in high society. We lived on the docks in St. Petersburg and the old market in Hamburg. Not the highest class of people. Certainly the most interesting, including how they talked. Why the interest in Russian? Planning on moving?"
James shook his head. "No, I'd be scared to take off unless I had a confirmed job that offered a place to live like Manpower does. One of the head guys here was Russian, and so were all his staff and bodyguards. Seemed like he was taking over for a bit, and I was sucking up for a promotion. But he's off in Europe and it looks doubtful that he's coming back. I'll finish the class but won't need to speak another language in the near future. But it would be nice to have some phrases and curse words and say them right."
Dave snorted. "Go to South Philly; they speak another language down there. All I know of it is, "Yo! Gimme a steak with whiz and onions." Dave's waistline spoke of his love of cheesesteaks. The talk started to devolve into an endless discussion of Pat's, Geno's, or Jim's. And, of course, whether you like provolone or cheese whiz.
Dave was pounding the switch would have dropped the gate. He looked at Eric, panicked and perplexed. "It's jammed! Glued in place, or something! What the hell?"
Roger looked at the oncoming group, grinned, and charged at two men, knocking into them and wrapping an arm around each in a flying tackle, taking both to the ground in a move that would have made his defensive coach at Penn State proud. But it only took fifteen seconds for him to regret the decision as two kidney punches and several body blows left him curled in a ball on the floor. Protected by their armor, his opponents got up, unhurt. Dave pulled a taser and shot the leader in the face, the barbs entering his cheek, the current shocked him and taking him to his knees. To Dave's dismay, the man didn't hesitate to rip the barbs from his face and rose, very angry. He and Dave into a wall, punching him over and over in a rage.
Marisa saw a second man turning towards James, and casually stepped beside him, her leg behind his, and knocked him down. From somewhere, she pulled a heavy metal rod, nominally cushioned with a layer of rubber and brought it down hard on each kneecap, incapacitating her opponent. The last man was engaged with two Manpower guards who were struggling to hold him back until Eric stepped up and broke his jaw with a hard punch.
Marisa yelled. "Charge the other two, now." Her tone got them moving towards the two Roger had knocked down. With a moment's respite, she took Eric firmly by the arm and dragged him back behind the security doors. "Shut and lock these! They never showed me how." Eric glanced at the fight going on. Dave and Roger were down, and the skirmish was going badly. It had been well planned, and he had at least one person on staff who was taking money from the mercenaries. He locked the doors and leaned back against the wall.
Eric hated leaving the others outside, but they really weren't in danger and he couldn't allow possibly armed mercenaries inside. "They planned that. No hesitation."
Marisa turned to him and quirked an eyebrow. "Of course they did. Those are professionals. We're just rent-a-cops. If you hadn't told me about the security doors, we'd have all gone down. And the stuck switch is suspicious as hell. As soon as Dave yelled, everyone should have known what to do."
"Hmm, and you acted on that, didn't you? I need to check the other entrances and see what is happening there. Probably fine since my phone isn't going off. You don't have a crew, currently, so for the rest of your double-shift you follow me, personal bodyguard, gopher, and coffee fetcher. Consider your temp contract permanent, which comes with a 30% raise plus another 10% for knowing Russian. You can help me with the accent when things are boring."
That brought a smile to her face. "No problem, sir. I'll have you talking like a St. Petersburg wharf rat in no time. Lots of good curse words."
"Good. I'm going to need them in the coming days."