“This convo is reallytanking, Tank.”
He chuffed out a laugh. “We got this.”
“These terrorists are bomb experts. We’ve been so focused on an assassination attempt, but there could be an army of people wearing explosives that are set to blow at the same time.”
“Everyone who entered walked through a metal detector.”
“What about explosives in plastic?”
“There’s a team of Secret Service and FBI undercovers on this level.”
“What’s the flyover situation?” she asked.
“Five Army Apache helicopters go first, then the Blue Angels jet past,” he explained.
“Fireworks?”
“No.”
“Anyone else for pre-game?”
“I’ll confirm.”
“What about halftime?” she asked.
“The West Point band and the Naval Academy band,” he replied. “What are you thinking?”
“Confirm the pre-game entertainment and halftime.”
“I’m on it.”
Sydney joined Caroline on the back edge of the press box. Caroline was peering out at the throngs of fans still filing in.
“It’s taking longer because they’re metal detectors,” Sydney said.
Caroline regarded her, but stayed silent.
“Sydney,” Tank said through the comm. “The Army Golden Knights and the Navy Leap Frogs both do pre-game parachute jumps into the stadium to deliver game balls, then the national anthem. After that, the Apaches fly over, followed by the Blue Angels. The President does the coin toss and the game begins.”
“Got it.”
“The announcer is two minutes from welcoming everyone. Televised coverage starts in thirty seconds. I was told that you and Caroline might be featured. Everyone is talking about the women in SWAT on the press box.”
“Can you stop them from filming us?” Sydney asked.
“I asked, they said they may or may not accommodate. It’s a ratings thing. Two badass women in warrior gear standing on the press box roof.”
“That’s effin’ great.”
“Sydney, it’s just a job.”
“You buying that?”
Silence, then, “No.”
“Neither am I,” she replied.
As the announcer began his welcome address, the crowd jumped to its feet and started cheering. The volume of sound in that stadium caught Sydney off guard. She worked in complete silence. This was deafening.
So, she did the only thing that made sense. She killed the comms in her ears to filter out the sound. That meant she was cut off from everyone, Tank included. Her only connection with another person was her sister standing three feet away.
The weight of the mission was falling squarely on her shoulders.
And she’d never been more ready—or more terrified—in her life.
