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Finally, the call bell dings overhead, announcing our descent. I excuse myself from the table and return to Barbi and her new friend. Upon landing, Barbi is reunited with her roommates, Kaye, Carmen, and Rosalie. Between hugs and tears, Barbi shares snippets of what happened. Rebel stands with me, rather than congregating with the other rescues.
“Who are you guys?” she asks.
“What do you mean?”
“Guardians? Protectors?” She gestures to those helping to offload the aircraft. The Rufi march down the loading ramp, packed with all our gear. “Robots?”
“We’re the Guardian Hostage Rescue Specialists.” I’m not really sure what she’s asking, but it feels as if she’s fishing.
“I got that, but you’re military?”
“Former military.”
“Oh, so not part of the military itself?”
“No. We’re a private organization.”
“I take it that means you can work around rules and regulations.”
“We don’t go out of our way to break any laws, but we have more freedom than the military, or the FBI.”
“You work with them?”
“Sometimes. Delta team mostly, but we’re all specially appointed to the U.S. Marshals Service.”
“What does that mean?”
“It allows greater freedom of movement within the U.S. Keeps us from having to stop and explain ourselves to local law enforcement.”
“And how do clients find you?”
“What do you mean?”
“How does someone go about hiring you?”
“Excuse me?”
“How does someone hire the Guardians?”
“We’re not cheap.”
“Not looking for cheap.” Her expression never waivers. “Just looking for who I need to talk to.” Rebel’s piercing gaze tells me there’s more to her questions than meets the eye.
I choose my words carefully, maintaining an air of professionalism while keeping my guard up.
“We don’t openly advertise our services. Clients usually come to us through trusted connections and word-of-mouth referrals.”
Rebel’s eyes narrow slightly, her curiosity growing. It’s clear she’s determined to find a way to access the Guardians, but I have to be cautious.
“Our involvement depends on a thorough assessment, and we evaluate each situation to ensure it aligns with our expertise and resources.”
“Understood.” Rebel’s gaze intensifies, her search for a clue or sign becoming more apparent. I maintain my composure, guarding our secrets closely. “I assume you prioritize confidentiality and discretion in your operations?”
“We do.”
“Thanks.” Rebel’s eyes flicker, but she quickly masks it with a polite smile. She leaves me without another word, leaving my mind spinning with questions.
There’s something about her that piques my curiosity. I make a mental note to bring it up to CJ and Sam. They can pursue it from there. For now, I’ve only got eyes for Barbi.
