The Academy

Part Two: Chapter One

FIVE YEARS LATER...

PTSD. Post-traumatic stress disorder isn't a joke. In fact, I've struggled with it for years. Or that's what my therapist says. I know she's probably right, Dr. Lauren Bates is definitely more educated than me in the psychological department. I've seen seeing her for three years now. And this morning, I sat in her office, rambling about how much I'm enjoying leading my own SWAT team.

I got the promotion a couple of months ago. I'm Sargent Olivia Prenton of LAPD SWAT now. I have my own team of six, including myself. Pretty much the whole SWAT department is men. As much as it kills me, there's nothing I can do about it. I mean, not being a man almost prevented me from getting this job in the first place.

"Take a seat, Ms. Prenton,"  Lieutenant Daniel Briggs, overseer of Los Angeles Police Department Special Weapons and Tactics says, staring at me from across his desk.

"I'll stand," I say firmly. 

He looks surprised by this, but takes a seat in his own chair, folding his hands in front of him. "Why are you here?"

"I want to join LAPD SWAT," I state. I've been in LA for about a week now, getting settled into my new apartment. This is my interview for the newly opened position in this department, the reason I'm here in the first place. 

He looks over me, making me shift uncomfortably. The way his eyes trail over my body reminds me of the way Skipton looked at me, and I shiver. I came here to escape Skipton, not replace him. Lieutenant meets my eyes again. 

"You don't seem like SWAT material."  He says dismissively.

This makes me angry, and I step forward, my tone dropping. "Because I'm a woman?" He only shrugs in response. "Have you read my résumé?"

This makes his eyes widen, and he searches around his desk for a moment before finding the folder I sent in when I first applied for the job. He opens it and skims the papers quickly. Clearly, I'm not what he was expecting. "Wow."

"Sir, I graduated top of my class from the most elite Federal Bureau of Investigation training academy in the nation. I trained my ass off for an entire year, and I can assure you, I'm damn good at this type of work. So what if I'm a woman? I can be- probably am already- better than any of your men here."

"Ms. Prenton, if you did so well in the FBI academy, why are you in LA applying for a SWAT job?"

I knew this question was coming. "Personal reasons, sir. If I had taken one of my many job offers from the FBI, my life would be put in jeopardy. And I'm not planning on dying anytime soon."

"You know, there's SWAT training you have to go through to qualify here."

I nearly scoff at this. "I've had rigorous training in Quantico. I more than qualify for this." He sends me a disbelieving look. "What does SWAT training include? Because I beat hundreds of people in hand to hand combat, I am fully sniper trained, I have operated more guns than you can name, I've jumped out of helicopters and planes successfully, and I'm a profiler. What else do I need to do to become qualified? I'm sure the training I've gotten is better than the training you're giving here."

He stares at me, clearly weighing his decision. I step back, swallowing nervously as I realize that I just completely lost my temper in the middle of a job interview. I cursed, pulled rank, insulted SWAT, and about ten thousand other things that could send me right out of here.

"I have to admit, I do see the passion you have for this." He says, and I nearly faint in relief. Maybe my blow-up was exactly what he needed to show him I do have what it takes. I mean, men do it all the time. "LAPD SWAT is the most honored, most respected, and most professional police division in the nation,"  Lieutenant says matter-of-factly.