Mob Princess - Tess DiRosa's Story
Copyright© 2025 by Argon
Chapter 16: On The Fast Track
For the next four months, Monday to Friday, Tess drove Jennifer Wilder to school. Nothing of note happened during that time, except for SSA Morris being replaced by SSA Jefferson. The cast of a dice determined which of the five routes they would drive between Observatory and school and then back to the Observatory, but it seemed as if no terrorist, foreign or domestic, had a beef with the Vice President’s teenage daughter.
Tess and Denise Hollis became good friends, spending many evenings and weekends together, and alleviating Tess’s loneliness. Denise was comfortably heterosexual, and Tess was single and not looking. Her phone calls with Lisa Miles dwindled away, as neither of them had much to say to the other anymore, and that, too, helped Tess to put the affair into the past.
Then, in June, Tess was recalled from Jennifer Wilder’s PD to see the Secretary of Homeland Security. Accompanied by her mentor, Assistant Secretary Willard, she was led before her ultimate boss, who beamed at her as if she was his favorite niece.
“Agent DiRosa, I am proud to inform you that the Congressional Review Board has selected you as recipient for the Public Safety Officer Medal of Valor. This is of course for your courageous and excellently executed apprehension of the domestic terrorist John Burns, preventing a large number of civilian casualties and a horrible tragedy. Due to the sensitive nature of your work for the United States Secret Service, the President will present you with the Medal in closed chambers, with only the Congressional leaders and your immediate family in presence.”
Tess had to swallow hard, and for the first time in many years she stuttered.
“S-sir, I am s-speechless. I ... I never thought that...”
“Well, Agent, you better believe it. I think the fact that a medal flusters you more than a bomb-carrying tango says enough about your character. My heartfelt felicitations. Since you’ll meet the President anyway, we have also decided that you will join the First Family’s protective detail. Sorry, Agent, but the President has more pull than the Second Lady,” the Secretary chuckled, but then he turned serious. “I read your personnel file of course. I am amazed how you rose from the devastating tragedy that marred your youth. I take it that Mister Vincent DiRosa will attend the ceremony?”
Tess nodded. Yes, that would be the right thing. “I would name my great-uncle, yes, but also my brother, Dr. Joseph DiRosa and his wife, Dr. Deirdre DiRosa, and, sorry, Mister Felix DiRosa and wife. Lieutenant Numi N’Gomo, of the Philadelphia PD, was right at my side and coordinated the police response, and her wife, Ms. Maureen Darling has been my friend and mentor ever since I lost my parents. If possible, I would also have SAC Gorman witness the ceremony. He was my mentor in Spokane.”
“That sounds quite reasonable, Agent. Clark, can your detail handle Felix DiRosa?” he asked jokingly.
“None of the main line DiRosas have ever been implicated in criminal activity in any way. The President meets shadier people at his campaign dinners, Mister Secretary.”
“So true, Clark. Well, Agent, the exact date for the ceremony has not been decided yet. We’ll notify you well in advance, but you may forewarn your family. Thank you for coming, and keep up the excellent work!”
“Thank you, Mister Secretary! It has been a privilege meeting you, Sir.” Tess had her wits about her again.
“Oh, the privilege was for me, Agent. I’ll see you on Friday, Clark, right?”
“Yes, Mister Secretary. Come along, Agent. We’re not done yet.”
They weren’t. Tess had to meet the President’s press secretary, who quizzed her on her background, the President’s Chief of Staff, who looked her over once and sent them away again, and the two Senators from Pennsylvania, who both violently shook her hands.
Willard then explained the next steps. She would be headed for Laurel again three weeks later for the personal protection training, together with eight other agents, who actually had the seniority for it. Until then she would continue ‘driving Miss Wilder’, giving her replacement time to relocate and get the training. That was okay with Tess.
She balked however, when Willard told her that her duty apartment would be upgraded to a two bedroom place closer to the Mall at no extra costs.
“I’d rather not, Sir. I’m still very junior, and I’m single. Should I make SSA one day, talk to me again, but for now, I’m comfortable with my place and with my neighbors.”
Willard just shook his head and grinned.
The four-week training at Laurel was as intense as anything Tess had done so far. She already knew that being on the protective detail encompassed more than jogging along a limousine, but she was unprepared for the level of planning that went into each and every travel or public appearance of the POTUS. For every man or woman in the immediate vicinity of POTUS, there were twenty or more who had to plan routes, escape routes, availability of donor blood (Big Mac was A positive, thank God), food sources, catering personnel and the logistics of moving so many people and having places for them to crash after hours.
She also learned that contrary to the movies, where female SSAs were leading the teams, the real-life teams were still heavy on testosterone. Of the nine agents selected for the course, she and an early thirties ex-Marine sergeant named Constance, or Conny, were the only females, and often treated condescendingly by fellow trainees and instructors. It was Conny’s tough-as-nails personality and Tess’s ability to put the hurt on men during hand-to-hand combat training that got them grudging approval after two weeks. Due to her recent Tulips notoriety she was stereotyped as a mean dyke, and strangely, being perceived as ‘one of the boys’, helped with getting accepted. Still, when Tess finished the course ranked Nº3 and Conny in Nº4, Nºs 5 to 9 were not happy.
A week later, Tess’s family and her closest friends were shown into the East Room of the White House, where seating had been prepared for Vincent DiRosa, while the rest of them stood in a circle watching as Tess was presented with the Public Safety Officer Medal of Valor from the hands of the President. Instead of her professional pant suits, Tess wore a burgundy red, formal dress and her mother’s best jewelry for the occasion, with her curly hair swept up to display her sinewy neck to best advantage. Her bare arms showed a play of muscles and sinews that was impressive.
“Goodness, Peter, where’d you find this woman? At Amazon?” the President joked, and Tess did not feel insulted at all.
“Yes, but they had only one in stock,” Peter Harrison, the Secretary of HS joked back. “Let’s treat this one well.”
“Of course. Special Agent DiRosa, it is a pleasure to meet a modern American heroine and an accomplished and dedicated law enforcement officer. I also welcome your family members and friends, but also Special Agent in Charge Harry Gorman, another dedicated Secret Service officer whom we must credit for helping Agent DiRosa to realize her potential.
“Special Agent Teresa Carla DiRosa, I herewith present you with the Public Safety Officer Medal of Valor, one of the highest honors we can bestow on peace officers, for your courageous and competent actions. To wit: On November 18, 20xx, Special Agent DiRosa, while celebrating in the Tulips night club with friends, noticed a suspicious-looking individual entering the establishment. Confronting the intruder, Special Agent DiRosa, under great peril to her life, neutralized an armed terrorist, and upon noticing a large explosive device on the man, took immediate steps to evacuate the establishment and to direct the patrons to safety. After securing the wounded terrorist, Special Agent DiRosa, together with Lieutenant Numi N’Gomo, of the Philadelphia Police Department, helped to coordinate bomb disposal and rescue efforts.
“For this exemplary conduct, under great peril of life, we honor Special Agent DiRosa with this Medal.”
The President then hung the ribbon with the Medal around Tess’s neck and sincerely shook her hand.
“Thank you for your service, Agent!”
“Thank you for the recognition, Mister President. I am deeply honored.”
“As you should, Agent. Fitz, is there still time for a bit of Champagne?”
“Ten minutes, Mister President, easily,” some guy answered, and immediately, two ushers appeared with filled Champagne glasses. They all toasted Tess, but soon the President had to leave for his next appointment, and when he and his entourage were gone, Vincent DiRosa pinged his Champagne glass with the massive signet ring on his finger.
“If I may, I have a few words to say. I am the son of a Sicilian mobster. It is not a secret. Yet, for over fifty years, I have striven to lead my family away from crime and violence, to find legal enterprises to pursue, to have our young people learn at good schools and marry good spouses, honest spouses. I lost a son and a nephew, Teresa’s father, because others could not accept my stance. Now, after over five decades, my efforts have reached their goal. Not only have we successful entrepreneurs in our family, we have aspiring scientists, senior police officers, successful attorneys, and now a decorated federal law enforcement officer. I am an old man and I will not live much longer, but I will die at peace now, for my efforts have born fruit. For us DiRosas, the American Dream has become a reality, and our Teresa is the living proof. Thank you.”
Teresa was the first to reach Vincente DiRosa, and she hugged him forcefully. The old man smiled happily.
“Remember when you joked about becoming a Fed? I told you you’d make an excellent one, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did, Uncle Vince. Thank you for letting me live my life!”
One nice side effect of the medal was an extra one-week, paid vacation, to be taken immediately, before she would join the huge presidential protection machine as a small cog. She was placed in one of the advance teams and would deploy to presidential travel destinations, sometimes weeks before Air Force One’s lift-off. It certainly beat sitting in a Suburban all day and watching a split screen display.
Having a week free, Tess decided to splurge and, scanning last minute offerings, booked a six-day beach vacation in Panama City Beach in the Florida Panhandle. The next morning already saw her on her flight south, and by evening, she’d done her first swim in the Gulf and acquired a slight tan.
This set the tone for the next days. After a light breakfast and a slathering with SPF30 sunblock, Tess found the beach and enjoyed the sun and the water until noon when she would find a place for a small lunch. Then back to the waterline and to stockpiling Vitamin D, cooling off in the blue water at regular intervals. Of course, as a single female in her mid-twenties, with a sinewy, athletic body and wearing a small, but functional bikini swimsuit, the sharks started to circle her wherever she spread her beach towel. The posing and preening of the young and not-so-young peacocks was amusing, but Tess had no interest in a dalliance. A few more audacious guys tried to strike up a conversation (“Do you come here often?”, “Care for a drink?”), but she just shook her head with a smile and ignored them. Sadly, not everybody took the cavalier rejection with grace, with some would-be lovers spewing invectives at her, but Tess channeled her inner Zen adept and just smiled serenely.
Thus, there was no altercation, and Tess boarded her northbound flight with a deep tan and with peace on her mind. Unfortunately, her period was approaching, making her a little less tolerant of ham-fisted pick-up attempts. She was flying business class, but luck had it that her seat neighbor was a man in his middling thirties, already going to seed, and with a loud voice, who talked into his mobile phone at the terminal, on the bridge, and then in his seat at Tess’s side, desperately trying to sound important. This only ended when he realized that the travel gods had given him a young female for a seat neighbor. He quickly put away his phone and tried to strike up a conversation.
“Hi, there, neighbor! You’re flying into Reagan, too?”
Tess was tempted and gave in. “Actually, I have booked the free fall packet. They’ll drop me off over Atlanta. That way, I can land right in my backyard. Saves me the cab fee.”
Chuckles could be heard around them, and he was miffed. “I was only being friendly...”
“You asked me a bone-headed question. You need rust remover for your pick-up lines.”
Around them, other passengers chuckled audibly, and her seat neighbor blushed with anger.
“I wasn’t trying...”
“Yes, you were. Even if I found you remotely attractive, I can see the indentation on your ring finger, and that makes it a hard pass,” Tess continued with a smile. “I’ll just go back to ignoring you, and you can keep dreaming of a world where women flock around you. Deal?”
Suddenly, the Whiplash app sounded from a smartphone near them, setting off more giggles and chuckles. A male flight attendant approached them, manly suppressing his grin.
“Do you wish for a different seat, Madam?”
“Nope, thanks, but I’m fine. Perhaps the gentleman wishes to move?”
Her seat neighbor looked around at grinning faces and decided to cut his losses.
“Just get me far away from this bitch!”
Trying to hold on to his dignity, he scrambled up from his seat, retrieved his travel case from the overhead bin, and followed the flight attendant to a more forward seat row. Obviously, somebody up front gave up his seat for the would-be Romeo, for a man of about 35 joined her in the neighboring aisle seat after dropping a small travel bag in the overhead bin. He nodded briefly.
“Ma’am!”
“Hi,” Tess answered genially.
“I hope you’ll spare my sensitive ego,” he joked with a grin.
“You heard?”
“Your voice carries.”
“Oops, sorry. Ask me no stupid questions, and I’ll be nice.”
“Deal.”
With that, she settled into her seat, pulling a tablet from her bag and reading a silly spy novel. Her new seat neighbor also opened a book, but from the corners of her eyes, Tess saw that he was not really reading, but rather scanning the seat rows. She had taken the mandatory TSA course required for LEOs to carry heat on civilian airplanes, and she realized with a smile, that the Federal Air Marshal responsible for the business class had placed himself next to her, obviously to watch her. She had to giggle.
“That funny, the book?”
“No, but this situation is. Don’t worry about me. I’ll come peacefully, Marshal.” The last words were spoken under her breath and were almost inaudible given the now spooling up engines.”
“I know you’re a LEO. It doesn’t say which branch,” he answered in a whisper, too.
“I’m a Jogger; SA DiRosa.” Tess held out her ID for the Marshal to see, and he nodded.
“Good to know, Agent. What sort of rounds are in your Sig?”
“None. I’m not on duty.”
“Good to know. How’d you spot me?”
“You’ve been on page 212 for ten minutes now. Unless you’re dyslexic, you’re not reading.”
“Note to self: flip pages,” he grinned. “I’m Muller.”
“Nice to meet you. Don’t mind me. You have a job.” Tess answered, returning to her reading.
Nothing else happened during the flight or afterwards, and by early afternoon, Tess was back in her efficiency apartment. The place was not quite as drab anymore. Tess had replaced the furniture with something new from the IKEA outlet in College Park, and the building super had agreed to store the old stuff in a basement room. The appliances were new, too, with a much less noisy fridge, an induction range, a small baking oven/microwave and a mini dishwasher. Fresh wall paint also made for a better ambience.