Z.a.a.p.

[SPEMack618]

The lanky lieutenant eased back into his easy chair, a cold Budweiser longneck in his left hand. Slouched down into his favored relaxing position, he popped the cap off his beer with his Swiss Army Knife, never having been able to open a twist off without gouging his hand. Running a hand through his sandy blonde crew cut, he kicked off his loafers. As he pushed the knife back into the pocket of his Levi’s, his cell phone buzzed. Stifling a curse, he sat up to retrieve the offending device from its resting place under his dirty University of Montana hat.
“Lieutenant Taylor.” He answered, not bothering to check the caller ID, taking a pull from the icy cold goodness in his hand.
“Jed, it’s me.” A soft feminine voice said in an almost hesitant tone. Taylor set down his beer and checked the caller ID to confirm exactly which “me” he was dealing with; it could be one of several Georgia Tech sorority girls; so far the best thing about being assigned to a post south of the Mason-Dixon line, aside from the awesome white tail hunting.
“Oh, hey, Tara. Rough day at work, I was kind of zoned out. So, what’s up?” Jed said with a practiced air.
“Oh, well, I was wondering that if you didn’t have anything to do tonight, my roommate is at a sorority thing, so we could be alone for a little while…”
“I’ll be right there.” Taylor said as he closed his phone shut and stood. He slammed down the rest of his beer and made his way to his bedroom, stopping to drop his bottle in his recycling tub in the hall way. Pulling off his soiled Polo from the day, he grabbed a light blue button down shirt and threw it own, deliberately leaving it un-tucked. The First Lieutenant of the ZAAP looked more like a frat boy than a highly skilled and effective commando. Getting into his battered Silverado, festooned with Ducks Unlimited stickers, he checked to make sure that his Springfield XD .45 was secured in the small of his back and concealed by his flapping shirt tail. Even though there was still a very real threat, it was getting to the point where civilians were again squeamish of military men carrying weapons in public, in or out of uniform.