“Guns are dangerous,” Teddy said. “You can’teverplay with one, okay?”
The President pushed his way through the group and made his way over. “Daddy!” When Teddy tried handing little Theo over, the child clung tighter.
The President extended his hand. “Thank you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“How did you know?” President Garrison asked. “He doesn’t look like any of the photos I’ve been shown.”
“His behavior when he entered the suite, no name tag, plus, the semi-automatic gave him away.” Teddy smiled.
“How can you be so relaxed?” the President asked.
“This is what I do,” Teddy replied. “It helps that I’ve been trained by the best.”
“Daddy, are you okay?” Theo asked.
“I’m good, son. Areyouokay?”
“Uh-huh.” Theo smiled at Teddy. “I want to go to my mommy.”
Teddy set him down and he scurried over to his mom.
“Who did train you, Tank?” the President asked.
Teddy had been trained by the most ruthless assassins he’d ever known.
“My brothers, Mr. President. I’m a Santini assassin through and through.”
In that moment, Teddy had never been more proud. Being a Santini meant everything to him.
It always had… and it always would.
