Mob Princess - Tess DiRosa's Story
Copyright© 2025 by Argon
Chapter 5: Of Nails and Hammers
When the class ended, Tess gathered her materials and followed the throng of trainees heading for lunch. According to her time table, the afternoon would bring classes in Sociology, Cyber, and a P.E. class, plus a free study period after that. She knew already that the free study would be used for her Physical Performance Requirements test. Halfway to the cafeteria, Lisa, Rachel and Patricia caught up with her, and they stood in the food line together. They found an empty table to sit and started to discuss the morning’s classes, mostly for Tess’s benefit. Their discussion was interrupted when a preppy looking man addressed them.
“Is this just Dorks&Dykes, or can I join?”
Tess shot him down immediately. “No to both. This isn’t the Jocks&Jerks table either.”
Lisa offered a high-five and Tess accepted.
“Jeez! I was just being friendly.”
“Shove it, buster!” Lisa gave back.
“Fucking rug munchers!” he mumbled angrily, already beating a retreat.
Tess, remembering Tomlinson’s lecture, stayed cool, but Patricia was steamed. “Very suave! Do you practice your conversation skills with your blow-up doll?”
Her voice carried, and everybody was looking at the guy who turned crimson with anger. “W-we’ll see who h-has the last l-laugh!”
“F-f-f-frightening,” Tess mocked him, causing chuckles all around, before she refocussed on her food. “What a douche!”
“Girls, you cut him off at the knees,” Rachel smiled. She was the only one who had stayed silent during the episode.
“He could’ve asked civilly and without sexual slurs,” Patricia shrugged. “I’m not biased against men, only against chauvinist ... umh...”
“Wankers, jerks, douche nozzles, stronzos, take your pick,” Tess supplied.
“What’s a stronzo?” Rachel asked.
“Italian for asshole. You have to know that Tess is bi.” Lisa supplied and giggled. “Bi-lingual.”
“You know there’s a female form of stronzo?” Tess asked casually.
Just then, another male trainee approached them.
“Just a warning, ladies: the esteemed Mr Clark Willard III. has a daddy who’s an Assistant Secretary at DHS. I grant you he’s a douche bag, but you better avoid further confrontations.”
“Well, thanks! Perhaps the second Mr Willard should’ve been a better role model for his jerk-off son?” Patricia answered for them.
“You don’t know half of it!” the guy sighed. “I know the family. They’re practically neighbors, and they’re poison, at least Clark and his mother and sister. I don’t know his father.”
“What’s daddy’s boy doing here then? By the way, who are you again? I know I heard your name at introduction, but...?” Patricia left the sentence hanging.
“Oh, sorry, I’m Trent Warren, and Clark got busted out of Georgetown University. Cheated during an exam and was caught. No criminal charges, so daddy found him a spot here.”
“Thanks, Trent. Wanna sit with us? We don’t really bite,” Tess offered. Trent was a little over six foot, not heavily muscled, but looked fit. That he came from money was also clear, given the real estate prices in Suburban Maryland.
“Don’t mind if I do,” he answered with a smile, setting his tray down and pulling out a chair. “You’re Meredith’s replacement, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I’m Tess DiRosa, from Philly.”
“Nice to see you here. Pat I already know, and you’re Lisa, right?”
“Got it in one,” Lisa nodded. “This is Rachel, Rachel Stoltzfuss.”
“Hey, Rachel. Since you’re here I gather you’re not part of an Amish community?”
“No, my father broke loose from them,” Rachel answered with a slight blush. “I guess that makes me an English.”
Over the next ten minutes, they got acquainted with each other, before walking to their first afternoon class, Behavioral Science. The class was about cross-cultural communications, and Tess found it quite interesting.
Next came a class in Cyber about mobile device investigations and how to avoid tampering with hard drive contents. Tess knew a bit of that already from Deirdre, the family’s informatics guru.
When the P.E. class started next, Tess was taken aside for the test. She was fitted with a heart rate monitor and had to run a full mile on the track in under ten minutes. That was easy enough, and she completed the mile barely under seven minutes without even running full tilt. Then she had to do push-ups and chin-ups with an instructor counting, as well as show her flexibility. Those were no problem either. The instructor was impressed.
“You’re in a great physical shape. What’s your sport?”
“Wing-tsun and Aikido,” she answered while still breathing a little.
“What level?”
“I’m a first dan in Aikido and an adept in Wing-tsun. I used to be a blue belt in Karate, but I discontinued that. Some Jiu-Jitsu too.”
“Okay, sounds good. Just avoid being a show-off.”
“I know, Sir. I’ll behave.”
“Join the others now!”
With a nod, Tess turned and went to find the other trainees. She found them across the track and reported to the instructor.
“DiRosa, Tess, Sir. I’m a late entry and I just completed the PPR.”
“I know. You’re properly warmed up?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Then you can join us for the five-mile run.”
“Yes, Sir.”
The trainees were summoned to the track and Tess found her friends.
“You’re running with us?” Lisa asked.
“Yup. I did a mile already as warm-up.”
“I hate running,” Rachel opined. “You’re a runner, too?”
“Not really, but I should be alright. We just have to pace ourselves. Lisa, can you do that for us?”
Lisa kept fit by jogging as Tess knew well, and she nodded. “Sure thing. Rache, will you be okay? Pat?”
“I did some jogging in the weeks before I came here,” Rachel nodded. “I knew that this would be part of the training.”
“Don’t worry,” Pat smiled. “I was on the track and field team at Vassar.”
The instructor, Sergeant Miller of the Uniformed Secret Service, gave the command, and off they were. Lisa started at an easy pace, keeping them in the middle of the pack for the first four laps, before she increased the pace slightly. The four of them worked their way forward through the main field, and when they completed the tenth lap, they were only twenty yards behind the front runners.
Ever aware of her surroundings, Tess noted the positions of Clark Willard and Trent Warren. Both were near the head of the field, with Willard aggressively jockeying for position. At least once, he caused another runner to stumble by slightly touching his feet, gaining another position as the competitor lost his rhythm. A douche bag to be sure!
Now, Pat worked herself to the front of their quartet. “Let me spell you,” she told Lisa, who gratefully dropped back while Pat pulled them along. Tess felt quite well, but she saw that Rachel was getting tired, her steps less easy and less even now.
“Keep going, Rache! Keep the pace. Steady and even, steady and even!” Tess encouraged her, and really, Rachel found her rhythm again.
With two laps to go, Lisa and Pat started to draw away from Rachel and Tess, obviously trying to position themselves for the finish. Tess still had the legs and lung to keep going, but Rachel was faltering now. Tess moved to run at her new friend’s side, encouraging her and cajoling her to keep going.
“You can do it, Rache! You just have to want it! Think ‘Yes I can do this!’ You can! Don’t give in now! Only one lap left.”
They were lapping other runners entering the last quarter mile, but also passing some of the former front runners. One of them was Willard who had over-paced himself and was falling back.
“Look, Rache! It’s Willard! Let’s show him! You can pass him, Rache! Do it!”
Yard by yard they came closer, and entering the last curve, Tess and Rache got past Willard, and when they crossed the finish line, they had distanced him by over fifteen yards and came in as Nºs nine and eight.
Tess kept Rachel moving, not allowing her to sit down.
“Keep breathing, keep walking. In and out! In and out! Come on! Willard’s sitting on his flabby ass now, but you can keep going. You’re a tough broad and you can do it!”
Now Pat and Lisa joined them, having finished third and fifth.
“You were awesome, Rache,” Lisa panted. “Damn, with more practice, you’d run us all into the ground.”
“Why are you even talking to me? Can’t you see I’m dead?” Rachel wheezed. They all laughed, and then, they were in a group hug.
“Hell, our table is the jock table,” Lisa laughed.
Five minutes later, the last stragglers had crossed the finish line, and Miller had them stand in line.
“Now, y’all know who of you needs to work on their stamina. Some of you also need to work on their willpower, and some need to be less cocky. Trainee Willard!”
“Y-yes, Sir?”
“Don’t let me catch you tripping a fellow trainee again. Next time, I’ll let you run another five miles, got that?”
“I didn’t...”
“You did. I saw it. Knock that shit off if you want to stay with us. You’re on front desk duty Saturday night.”
Willard’s face was beet red but he kept his mouth shut. Miller then led them through stretching exercises and a slow jog to loosen their muscles after the run before he dismissed them into free study.
Tess steered her friends away from where Willard was walking alone to the dorms, his head down and muttering angrily.
“Let’s give him a wide berth. He’s liable to blow up, and I’d rather not be close when it happens.”
“Wise,” Pat nodded. “No need to get into trouble.”
After a quick shower at their dorm, Tess was picked up by another instructor, SA Bell, who gave her a run-down of the previous week’s basic instructions. He was a Coastie, on their CIS unit, and easygoing. When they finished, Tess went straight to the dining hall to find her friends.
Entering, she scanned the hall first. There was Willard, and he was sitting alone. He gave off bad vibes, and Tess made it a point to walk along the far wall to the food line. The food was a little bland for her tastes, but at least good quality, and she loaded her tray with a salad and a steak sub. A glass of diet soda completed her dinner. After paying, she sat down with Lisa and the others. Trent had joined them, too.
“Hey, guys,” she greeted them.
“Hey, Tess. Where’ve you been?” Lisa asked.
“With SA Bell. He gave me the readers digest of last week’s instructions.”
“He’s cool,” Pat stated. “At least for a Coastie.”
“Yeah, he seems okay,” Tess agreed. “What have we got for the evening class?”
“OPSEC,” Trent answered, meaning operational security of course.
“Shit, I have to read up,” Tess groaned. “You guys are finished? Why don’t you split and I’ll go over the script while I eat?”
She could tell that the others were relieved, not looking forward to watching Tess eat, and they left with a brief ‘See ya’. Tess pulled the transcript from her satchel and scanned the bullet points while polishing off the sub and the salad. She was almost finished when her peripheral vision picked up somebody approaching. Looking up, she saw Willard. Under the table, she activated her smartphone and set it to “record”.
“Hey, Mob Princess! What the hell are you doing here? Seriously? They sent you here to study the opposition?”
“Look, douche bag, I don’t have time for you and your drivel. So, be a nice boy and get lost.”
“Maybe my dad can have the Feds look into you?” he sneered.
“Jeez, Bozo, don’t you think the boys and gals who looked into my application have already done that? I mean, you got inserted here by your daddy, but the rest of us applied and were screened.”
“Maybe, my dad can make them do it again.”
“And maybe you’re a moron spouting this shit in front of half the class. If they kick me out, I can promise your dad congressional hearings on the topic of nepotism in the Secret Service. Think he’ll enjoy that? Then again, I suppose he’s got real work to do, and he’ll tell you to shut up and grow up.”
“We’ll just see.”
“You got that wrong. I may see it, but you’ll be long gone. In case you haven’t noticed: you’re a douche bag and nobody likes you, least of all the instructors. You think they don’t know you got kicked out of Georgetown for cheating?”
At least twenty trainees were within hearing, and Willard paled visibly. “You bitch! Who told you that shit?”
“Public record, Einstein! You ever heard of DiRosa Security? They have an investigative branch. They do background checks for a living. Took them three hours to get the low down on you. Now go and leave me the fuck alone, or I’ll tell people what else they found out about you!”
The last sentences were pure bullshit, but Tess wanted to get rid of the guy and she would not rat out Trent. It worked. Mumbling threats under his breath, he beat a retreat. Tess looked around. People were staring at her and she sighed.
“Sorry, guys. The douche just won’t leave me alone, and I’ve had it.”
Predictably, she was called into the main office after breakfast. Tomlinson sat at his desk and looked her over. “You’ve been here for — what — one day, and you already threatened a fellow trainee?”
“No, Sir. The fellow trainee threatened me, and I reminded him of his own, vulnerable position.”
“That’s not what he said.”
“I have enough witnesses to corroborate my version, Sir, but to save you the leg work, listen to this.” She put her smartphone on his desk, already set to Play, and let him listen to the conversation. When the recording stopped, she gave him a wry smile. “He had no expectation of privacy in the dining hall, so this recording is admissible, Sir.”
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