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“Yeah, sure.” Tom moved on as if that part of the conversation never happened. “You remember your rappelling lessons from the military? Just saying they might come in handy.”
“Tango and I have been training for extracting our protectees in a mass disaster. We’re ready to go.”
“Good to hear,” Tom said. “Okay, here’s the situation today. We call ourselves CPP, close protection professionals. That goes for both the hybrid chauffeurs, or someone like you who will be watching their location.” He opened the three-ring binder to the front page to show a map. “Today, the executives will arrive in their limos and be dropped off at Frou-Frou. We’re there a lot. Get used to the location. The limos cross the bridge and park in a garage on the other side. It’s four minutes from a ‘respond’ call until they’re on the far side of the road in front of the restaurant. You coordinated with Strike Force?”
“Yes, sir. Gator will be on the back door. Jack will be in the dining room. Tango and I will post up at the front door.”
“Good. That should cover it. They’re a little skittish since the Amanda thing the other day. But they all know the Tango story. And seeing her will make them feel safer.” Tom turned the page to a picture of Mrs. Harcourt-Swain. “You can study these here in the office and commit to memory their individual pet peeves to make sure you don’t breach any. It’s important to keep good footing, right?”
Chapter Seventeen
Ethan
“Perimeter clear?” Gator called as Ethan and Tango rounded the building.
“Clear.” Ethan checked his watch as he sauntered over. “Just waiting for the principals to show up.”
Jack held out his hand for a shake. “Good to see you, man. It’s been a blue moon.”
Ethan pulled Jack into a hug. “Too long.”
“Yeah, Ethan here was supposed to make it to see Christen and me tie the knot, but he turned down our invite because he was crawling around in Ukraine pulling mines out of the farm fields.” Gator focused on Ethan. “When’s the last time the two of you seen each other in person, you and Christen?” Gator asked. “It’s been a while.”
“Years. Last time I saw Christen was my very last overseas assignment before I called it quits with the military. It was back when NATO evacuated Afghanistan. The local controllers abandoned the tower at the international airport, so the 24th moved in to do the job. It was a hell of a parting fireworks finale, just chaos trying to defend the airfield and get the international military evacs handled. One of the helicopters was Christen’s little bird. She was there playing taxi for somebody with clout.”
“Shit show,” Jack said. “That’s what moved you on?” He focused down the road at the first of the limos coming into sight in the noon-day traffic. “I’m going to head to my post. How about we get together for a beer tonight at my place?” He slapped Ethan’s shoulder. “You can meet Suz, and we can catch up on the news.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Ethan focused down the bridge at a woman in pink walking down the sidewalk. From where he stood, it looked like she’d gathered her hair in her hand and was holding it tight against the wind whipping up over the water.
Gator tapped his chest. “Gator. Check. Check.”
“Jack. Copy.”
Ethan caught Gator’s eye pressing his own sternal mic to respond. “Wiz. Loud and clear.” He released the mic and focused on Gator. “I haven’t had magnetic comms dropped in my ear canals since the sandbox. It’s a sensation I don’t much miss.”
Gator chuckled. “I see you put the camera on Tango’s collar. Any particular reason?”
“I was grateful for the radio connection yesterday. I thought it would have been even better if I had footage. I figured that until Tango’s graduation, when I hand in her equipment, I might as well use it.”
Gator clapped Ethan on the shoulder then headed back around the building.
Ethan took his spot to the side of the door, out of the way but with full view of the street. Tango panted at his side, watching everything, but mostly she kept her eyes on the woman coming over the bridge.
The executives arrived one after the other.
A man stood staring at Tango. He was one of the London guests on the Strike Force roster. “Last night, we heard all about what happened to poor Amanda Harcourt.” He tutted and shook his head. “I was told that the heroes of the day would be here. That must be you. And this must be Tango.”
“I was on duty, sir.”
Tango sat up straight, her chest puffed out to acknowledge that yes, she was the hero that saved the day.
She was. No question about it.
The man leaned over to pat Tango’s head, and Ethan slid forward to block the move. “Sorry, sir. She’s on duty.”
“Yes, yes. Of course. So they know for sure this was a kidnapping? That’s what they wanted to do? They weren’t a—what do you call that in America?—a hit job?”
“Sir?”
