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Prologue
Suds
Standing by my client, Kenneth, I lift my head and peruse the Capitol grounds in front of the new fencing.
When I’m certain there’s no threat to the hundred or so Gen Zers, I lower my chin and speak into the mic taped to my chest. “Hands? You there? Can you explain why anyone would want to have an anti-gun rally in December? The legislative branch has all leftfor winter break.”
My friend, manning the desk at headquarters in Manhattan, chuckles in my earpiece. “Stop bitching, Sebastian. It’s easy bucks and you’ll be home for the weekend. What’s not to love?”
“I don’t know. I got a bad feelin’.” A former SEAL, I’d learned to respect my spidey senses and right now, they’re tingling like mad. “Can you see anything?”
“Other than a bunch of teens and college kids exercising their first amendment rights? No.” My pal flies the Patten Securities’ surveillance drone lower which increases the volume of the engine’s buzz.
As the sound disappears under the crowd’s chanting, I shout to be heard above the ruckus. “Damn. I wish they’d protest in Texas or Florida. I’m freezing my ass off.”
Apparently, the DC weather didn’t get the memo about global warming.I step closer to my eighteen-year-old client, a mass shooting survivor whose mom is paying my bodyguard bill. She’s a real nice lady and her family has gone through so much pain, I’ll be damned should anyone hurt her son.
Suddenly, a flurry of motion in the distance catches my attention. “What’s goin’ on at the Lincoln Memorial?”
My cousin-in-law curses. “Heavily armed militia heading your way.”
“Fuck.” Swiveling my charge by the shoulder, I snatchhis e-megaphone. “Y’all need to run for cover. Now.”
“Hell no! We’re not going anywhere.” The kid pushes at my chest and the wasted seconds may be his last because a dozen angry men raise their automatic weapons.
I pray to see another sunset, grab my pistol, and speak into my comm. “Call for backup. We’re in a heap of trouble.”
“On it. Hang tight. I got your back, bro.” The former operative’s calm voice helps ground me as a six-foot middle-aged man shoves a skinny girl to the pavement.
“Y’all need to go. These kids ain’t doin’ you no harm. Leave them be.” Pushing the bully aside, I help the teen to stand, and pull her behind me next to Ken.
While I do this, another member of this brave militia stomps his big black army boots toward me. A knife scar across his right cheek appears in high relief against his red face. He wears a denim jacket covered in badges, including a swastika.
The Nazi shoves his fist in my face, making sure I see the prison tats covering his knuckles. “Who the hell are you?”
An ex-Navy Seal who fought for our freedom, asshole.I’d take him down but I’m afraid some of the kids might get hurt.
I wave my arm to encompass the protesters. “Them boys’ balls ain’t even dropped. And the girls are still calling their mommas at night. How about we let them be and I buy you and your buddies a case of beer?”
When the moron steps closer, I pull my gun from under my black leather jacket and point it at his head. “You need to go.”
“Make me.” Jutting out his chin, he smiles, not at all worried about the approaching sirens, almost upon us.
“DC police are five minutes out. Ramble like your life depends on it.” As Hands sounds in my ear, the two officers tasked with handling the small crowd wave their service revolvers from side to side.
Their pea shooters are no match for automatic weapons. The ex-con lifts his at the kids. Holy shit. If he fires, dozens are going to get maimed or killed. I have no idea if his buddies plan to join him in a shooting frenzy, but I’m a-gonna count on the grace of God he’s a lone nutcase and his friends aren’t in on his craziness.
He’s got a good grip on his weapon. The safety is off, and his brown eyes are completely emotionless. I seen that look in Afghanistan. A woman stepped in front of our jeep. We thought she held a baby in her arms, but the bundle of blankets turned out to be a bomb. Our driver stopped so as not to run her over and the fucking bitch blew my brothers to kingdom come.
Hands’ voice brings me back from my stroll down memory lane. “You still with me, Suds?”
“Yup.” As my weapon points at my target’s head, I keep one eye glued to the dangerous nutcase’s trigger finger and my other on his face. “I’m only gonna ask you once. Drop it now.”
His facetwitches.
Shit. I don’t think I can talk him down.“Sir, you don’t want to do this.”
He swallows hard, and as his hand moves, I take him out and quickly point my gun at the next of his buddies aiming for me. Two shots fire and a burning sensation rips into my upper arm.
