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The line shifts half a step at a time.
I hope the plan works, and Ty and the guys are fine.
The scanners beep with precise regularity as the badges are scanned.
I pull mine out and clip it to my chest, like the rest of the guys, then lower my head.
The sound of the metal detector is consistent as they weave through people like snakes.
And then there are frantic beeps, static noise, and voices coming through the multiple radios. The line stops moving. The guards exchange looks and lean to murmur something to each other.
Good.
My heart is ready to explode when the line resumes and I step up to one of the guys, who is much taller and broader than me. “Contractors” makes sense when the guy’s biceps are thicker than my head. Boots, tactical pants, t-shirt, vest, and a buffet of weapons on his duty belt make me stiffen as I scan the guy from under my hat.
The sight of him is intimidating. Of course, there are sunglasses, like he is in a movie. The one beeping my badge chews on a toothpick when his radio goes off.
“Shots fired at checkpoint 41.”
He turns to lock eyes with another guard as he waves a metal detector around me absently when it beeps. I am about to step away when he grabs my backpack before I react.
“Off.”
He almost drags it off me with a fast practiced move as he pulls me to the side toward a table, then opens the backpack and dumps everything out.
Thank God for Mario, who told me to pull the guns out. But my heart still slams in my chest as the guy rummages through, then picks up a Swiss army knife and holds it up.
“Hey, look at me,” he barks.
Shit.
His radio goes off again. “Fire… Explosives used… Checkpoint 41… Send reinforcement… Breach…” Voices keep barking in the radio on his duty belt as my heart hammers in my chest.
His hand reaches for my badge and rips it off.
“Jacob Mon-ca-da,” he says almost mockingly, then punches something in his scanner.
“Dwayne!” A guard from the other line turns him around. “Radio Gunner. See what’s up!”
He turns back to me. “One more time, and you are out of job.” He tosses my badge at me without looking and walks off toward the other guard.
I swallow hard, sweating under my hat and shirt. My entire body is like an iron rod as I shove the contents of my backpack back in, then swing it across my shoulder, and walk past the other security guy through the gates.
My heart is racing, waiting for someone to turn me around.
But as I walk out onto a big parking lot, following a trickle of people, I smile.
I’m in.
I’m here.
And soon I’ll seeher.
11
ARCHER
I tapthe pen against the desk, staring at the computer screen.
