"What else?"

They moved to the parking area, Charlie trailing them, listening hard while appearing not to be.

"Last thing, I know you do fuel-ups by yourself on days when we're shorthanded, like at the end of the month, and I thought maybe you could change things a little. Like for the Eagles to graduate to the next level, they have to put in hours on a teaching class. That would free up six or seven short shifts."

"We are always short ten men."

Kenn nodded, ran a beefy hand over his short black hair as the gritty wind ruffled it. "Give me one of the extras. That'll still leave you two."

Adrian laughed. "Two instead of ten. I won't know what to do with the extra time."

"Sleep," Kenn said immediately, and they shared a grin of commiseration. Both of them averaged less than five hours a night.

"I've given your boy a full-time job."

The wide-shouldered Marine nodded, okay with Charlie being distracted. The constant whining about his mother was relentless, and Kenn had found himself spending as much time away from the sulky teenager as he could. "He's a hard worker."

"I've noticed. You take the hand-to-hand test yet?"

Kenn shook his head, not reminding him they'd both passed one in basic training. What had happened before the War was mostly that: before.

"Doug's class should still be going. Tell him I said to give you a quick run, but you should watch for a bit first, so you know what you're up against."

Kenn snapped off a quick salute as he left, and the boy moved back to Adrian's side.

Adrian frowned, thinking the Marine couldn't really help him teach the guards unless he was willing to go through the same things they did. He had decided the man wouldn't have his own team of Eagles; he would serve the Boss instead. Kenn couldn't do both, but he still had to do everything the teams did, in order to help teach them. A little less confidence for the match tonight wouldn't hurt either, Adrian thought. The Marine was sharp and had only lost last time because the wind had gusted at the wrong second and ruined his shot.

Charlie felt sorry for whoever Kenn was cursing in his thoughts. When he did that, someone (usually his mom) ended up bleeding.

"Come on. Grab that box."

Charlie did as he was told, clamping down on the request for his schedule that wanted to fly out of his mouth. Adrian would give it to him. He never went back on what he said, like most people.




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