“Thanks,” said Julie.
They walked across the polished, dark marble floor toward the bank of elevators lining the far wall.
“That welcome was colder than outside,” observed Jericho.
“Yeah, I noticed that,” agreed Julie. “I thought Canadians were meant to be friendly…”
They rode the elevator up to the fourteenth floor and stepped out into another foyer. The floor was covered in a thick maroon carpet, and there was a desk facing them. Short corridors stretched away on either side, into the main office area.
The woman behind the desk smiled at them politely. She was attractive in a subtle way, wearing minimal make-up to maximum effect. Her long, dark hair flowed down past her shoulders, and the jacket of a navy dress suit was visible behind the monitor in front of her.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
Jericho flashed her a smile. “We’re here to see Mr. Hyatt. We have an appointment.”
The secretary glanced down at her desk, checking the schedule she had beside her. After a moment, she looked back up at each of them, a flash of surprise on her face. “G-GlobaTech Industries?”
Julie nodded. “That’s us.”
The woman regained her composure and smiled again. “Follow me, please.”
She stood, walked around the desk, and headed along the corridor to her left. Jericho watched her. She was taller than he had imagined she would be, having a couple of inches on Julie. He noticed she wore long, thin heels, and the boost showed off her toned calves, just visible below the pencil skirt she wore. Her figure was slim, undoubtedly the product of an hour in the gym before and after work. Jericho cast an approving eye over her as they followed but snapped out of his trance when Julie punched his arm.
He turned to her and frowned. “What was that for?”
She pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, nothing. I just thought I was working with you, not Ray.”
“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I thought he was the womanizing asshole.”
He lowered his voice. “Just because I was checking her out, it doesn’t mean anything. It’s a perfectly natural thing to do. There’s no harm in it, and most people would take it as a compliment.”
Julie let out a short, impatient huff. “Whatever.”
Jericho smiled. “Wait a second. Are you… are you jealous?” She shot him a look that made his smile instantly disappear and the hair on his arms stand up. He swallowed hard. “Okay, you’re not jealous.”
She shook her head with mild disbelief. “No, I’m not jealous, but good job at thinking so highly of yourself.”
“So, what’s wrong?”
“I’m a woman, Jericho, in case you hadn’t noticed. I don’t have to like someone to feel disrespected when they look at someone else in my company.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay. I’m not gonna lie, Jules, that only kinda makes sense.”
“Whatever,” she said again.
Jericho fell silent, sensing it was best to let the conversation drop. In his limited experience with women, he knew that if he didn’t understand what he had done wrong, it was usually better to stay quiet. It’s too easy to inadvertently make things worse.
As they turned a corner at the end, the floor opened out into a large space filled with desks and muted conversations. Groups of people were separated by multicolored dividers, which also served to form walkways between workstations. Along the opposite wall were three offices. Two were modest in size, with a much larger one in the corner.
The secretary led them through the maze of desks toward the corner office. The door was closed, and the vertical blinds in the window beside it were shut.
She stopped outside, turning to face them and flashing a professional smile. “This is Mr. Hyatt’s office. You can go right in.”
“Thank you,” said Julie. There was a hint of hostility in her voice, which the receptionist either didn’t notice or was polite enough to ignore.
She moved to the door, knocked once as a courtesy, and walked inside. Jericho followed her, smiling his thanks to the secretary as he passed, who returned the gesture while holding his gaze a second longer than she needed to.
Hyatt was sitting behind his desk, his head buried in the paperwork strewn across the surface. He looked up as they entered, smiling hurriedly. “Thank you for coming.” He gestured to the chairs opposite him. “Please, take a seat. I’ll be right with you, I just need to run through these numbers quickly.”
They both placed their bags beside the door and sat beside each other. Jericho waved his hand nonchalantly. “Take your time.”
He looked around the office, familiarizing himself with the surroundings. It was a breathtaking view. The windows ran floor-to-ceiling, almost the full width of the walls ahead of him and to the left, providing a panoramic glimpse of the city. The décor was simple, minimalistic. Hyatt’s desk was made from a dark mahogany and mostly devoid of decoration. A picture frame with a flower in the corner was positioned on an angle to Hyatt’s right and contained a photo of the girl they had rescued from Mexico a little over twenty-four hours ago.
Hyatt gathered the papers together in a neat pile and placed them in a tray to his left. He looked up at both of them. His eyes were bloodshot and sunken, and flecks of gray stubble covered his face and throat.
“I’m sorry about that,” he said. “It was something urgent.”
“It’s fine,” said Julie. “If it’s convenient, we would like to discuss the terms of your protection with you prior to our detail starting in the morning.”
He nodded. “Of course. Now I expect you to keep your distance during any meetings but stay close by when I’m on the move. No more than—”
Jericho held up a hand to silence him. He smiled apologetically. “Not your terms, Mr. Hyatt. Ours.”
Hyatt frowned. “What do you mean?”
“We’re very good at what we do,” explained Julie. “You know that. But we’re only as good as our clients allow us to be, which means if you want us to guarantee your safety, we need a few things from you.”
“Such as?”
“Complete and total honesty,” said Jericho. “We need to know exactly what’s going on, so we can best prepare for anything that might threaten your safety.”
“We also need unrestricted access to your schedule and your staff,” added Julie, “so we know the movements of you and the people you surround yourself with. Again, if we don’t know everything, we can’t prepare for everything, which potentially leaves you vulnerable.”
“And while we’re on the subject of your staff,” said Jericho. ‘You might want to think of something to explain why we’re here. Your receptionist outside seemed surprised to see us. I imagine it’s strange that an unassuming accountant would need personal security from a company such as ours.”
Julie clicked her fingers and nodded. “That’s a good point, Mr. Hyatt.”
Hyatt sat back in his seat, momentarily thrown off-guard by the requests. He composed himself again, leaned forward, and rested his elbows on his desk. “I… I guess I could say you’re evaluating me before coming on board as one of my clients.”
Jericho shrugged. “Yeah, that could work. Maybe send something out to explain our presence over the next couple of days.”
“I will,” replied Hyatt. “Thank you. Now look, while it’s a comfort to know you take your jobs so seriously, you must understand there are things I can’t tell you. I have to abide by data protection laws. I can’t just—”
“I understand,” interrupted Jericho. “But you’re also protected by those laws as part of your agreement with us, which means whatever you say goes no further. We’re not here to cast judgment, and we’re not obligated to liaise with any law enforcement agencies.” He gestured quickly to himself and Julie. “We’re both part of an elite team, a division of GlobaTech Industries specializing in… exceptional private security. Honestly, I don’t care what you’re involved in. My on
ly concern is your safety. It’s our responsibility to keep you alive and well, so we can get you back to your daughter. But I can’t do that if I don’t know what—or who—you need protecting from.”
Hyatt flicked his gaze between the two of them, sensing from their unblinking, hard stares that he had no choice but to agree. He glanced away, sighing heavily. A moment later, he met their gaze again and nodded. “I have your word that whatever I say goes no further?”
“We risked our lives to save your daughter, Mr. Hyatt,” said Julie. “We’re prepared to do the same for you. What you do between nine and five isn’t our concern.”
He nodded again, satisfied he could trust them. “Okay, then. I manage the financial assets for people who simply want the most from their money. Investment brokers, property developers, you name it. They have a lot of capital, and it’s my job to make sure they only pay the tax that’s due and store their hard-earned dollars in the right kind of savings accounts, to garner the optimum level of interest—that kind of thing.”
Jericho nodded. “Sounds straightforward.”
“It is. But a few years ago, my wife filed for divorce, and despite the healthy percentage of commission I earn on these multi-million-dollar transactions, it wasn’t nearly enough to keep her and the team of soul-sucking lawyers she hired satisfied. I have sole custody of my daughter, and I want to provide for her, like any father would. But my ex-wife wasn’t making it easy for me, and I simply didn’t have enough money. So, I… I began representing some less-than-reputable clients on the side.”
Julie and Jericho exchanged a subtle glance, silently acknowledging their assumptions were correct.
“In the few years I’ve been doing it,” he continued, “I’ve earned almost as much as this firm has paid me since the day I started, and I’ve never had any trouble. I pride myself on being open with my clients, and in return, they reward me with repeat business, recommendations, a generous cut, and protection.”
“So, what happened this time?” asked Julie.
“Honestly? I have no idea. Neither does my client.”
“And their name is…?” asked Jericho.
“Darius Silva,” replied Hyatt after a moment’s hesitation. “He’s actually a nice guy, and we’ve become friends over the years. But there’s no escaping what he does for a living, and he has enemies because of it. One of these enemies has discovered information about a specific transaction I’m overseeing for him. Something of great value to Mr. Silva. Presumably, they also know of my involvement. Knowing they can’t get to Darius directly because of who he is, they apparently thought it worthwhile trying to get to me.”
“So, that was why your daughter was taken…” observed Jericho.
He nodded. “Sadly, yes, and you will forever have my thanks for getting my darling Jessica back safely.”
Jericho nodded back. “No problem. But it wasn’t easy. When we got to Mexico, we were ambushed. Cartels make for powerful and dangerous enemies, Mr. Hyatt. We’re not naïve enough to think their involvement is over.”
“I know. I just…” He sighed. “This is all getting out of hand. I mean, cartels? How the hell did they get involved in all this?”
“You want my advice, Mr. Hyatt? Let us get someone in to scan your computer and your phone for bugs.”
Hyatt’s eyes widened. “You think I’m under some kind of surveillance? That’s crazy! This isn’t a James Bond movie. People don’t really do that kind of thing… do they?”
Jericho suppressed a smile. “Industrial espionage happens more often than you’d think, and wire-tapping is quite common. Plus, this isn’t exactly all above board, is it? It’s worth considering.”
He held his hands up in resignation. “Okay, whatever you say. You’re the experts here, I guess.”
Julie nodded. “Correct. Now we’ll need to know some details about this transaction everyone’s so interested in.”
Hyatt hesitated. “Erm… I’m not sure I’m comfortable with—”
“Mr. Hyatt, please,” said Jericho, cutting him off before any excuses could be given. “We’re not here for judgment or concerned with legalities, remember? Though it’s worth mentioning that, given the nature of this particular client’s business, those data protection laws you mentioned don’t count for shit.”
“We just need an idea of what we’re dealing with,” added Julie. “The more we know, the better we can protect you.”
Hyatt looked around the room as he shifted in his seat, nervous and uncomfortable. Eventually, his gaze settled on Julie.
“I… It’s…” He sighed. “There’s a shipment arriving at the Port of Halifax in Nova Scotia in two days. I will need to be there to oversee the processing of it, to ensure it’s handled, transferred, and shipped back out as it should be.”
Julie and Jericho looked at each other, their minds immediately engaged, focusing on the next forty-eight hours.
“We need to see a layout of the port,” said Julie. “Look at ways in and out. Docking lanes. Security levels.”
Jericho nodded his agreement. “Buchanan will be able to get us what we need. We can work out attack and counterattack scenarios based on the location, should anything happen. We’ll know every way someone could come at us, every way we can repel an attack, and every way we can get out of there in a hurry.”
Julie looked back at Hyatt, noting his bemused and dumbfounded expression. “Don’t worry, Mr. Hyatt. We will guarantee your safety while we’re at the port. Once this shipment has been dealt with, how confident are you the threat to you and your family will be over?”
Hyatt shrugged. “I… ah… I don’t know. But once the shipment leaves for its final destination, it will no longer be vulnerable. And by that, I mean it’ll be too late for anyone to, y’know, steal it or whatever.”
“You know that for sure?”
Hyatt nodded. “I know details about the shipment itself have leaked, but I can guarantee you no one knows where it’s going after it leaves Halifax. I know it’s heading to the Caymans eventually, but Mr. Silva has arranged a stop-off along the way that he’s not even told me about. And he hasn’t given me a reason for it. Maybe he’s extra paranoid, I don’t know. Whatever the reason, I’m hoping once whoever is behind all this realizes that, they won’t come after me again.”
Jericho got to his feet. Julie did the same a moment later.
“Okay,” he said to Hyatt. “We have a few calls to make and some things to prepare.” He checked his watch. “It’s getting late. You should finish for the day and go to a hotel until this is over. Make it somewhere public.”
“Won’t that make me easier to find?”
Jericho shook his head. “It will make you harder to get to. Staying public, where the whole world can see you, is much safer than hiding away. Your driver was a nice guy. Get him to run you there and then have him contact us with the name of the hotel and your room number. We’ll get rooms there and come get you at five a.m. tomorrow. Once we do, we won’t leave your side until this is all over.”
Hyatt nodded. “Sure, okay. Whatever you say.”
Jericho and Julie took turns to shake his hand before heading for the door, collecting their bags as they passed. Julie glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Mr. Hyatt. We’ll keep you safe, and we’ll have you back with your daughter soon, I promise.”
They left and made their way out of the building. The sun had sunk even lower in the time they had spent with Hyatt, and daylight was almost nothing but a memory. Traffic was still heavy, and the glow of headlights dominated the streets.
“I’ll put in a call to Buchanan,” said Julie, taking her cell from her pocket. “We should let him know exactly what he’s signed us up for and what we need.”
Jericho nodded and paced away to the edge of the sidewalk, twisting his body to slide between the steady stream of pedestrians. He looked both ways along the street, scanning the city with an expert eye for anything that seemed out of place. No one stood out. There were no
parked cars with people inside. Yet, despite it looking as if the world was business as usual, he couldn’t shake the growing feeling in his gut that something wasn’t right. He believed every word Hyatt had said to them but worried his naivety would lead to him underestimating the severity of what he was facing. A large-scale drug operation. Illegal cash. Rival gangs. He sighed, fully aware of how quickly things could take a turn for the worst.
He glanced back at Julie, who was still speaking to their boss on the phone. Between them, he was sure they could handle anything, regardless of his own concerns. He nodded to himself as he took one last look along the street and muttered, “Time to go to work.”
3.
The sea of bodies shuffled like the constant motion of the tide as people desperately fought for some personal space in the uncomfortable warmth of the sports bar. The evening was in full swing. A large screen mounted on the wall facing the entrance showed a live baseball game, but the commentary was barely audible over the chatter from the crowd.
Julie and Jericho stood side by side at a waist-high, circular table close to the bar counter, nursing half-empty bottles of beer. The stools had been taken by other customers, no doubt squeezed into a space too small around another table.
After leaving Hyatt’s office, they had traveled to the GlobaTech site in the city—their equivalent of a field office—to arm themselves. They were unable to bring their own weapons with them across the border, so getting new ones was a priority before their security detail began. Buchanan had sent the information they requested about the port there too, so it was waiting for them when they arrived. They spent time on their strategy, working with a security team on site to familiarize themselves with the layout and to prepare for every eventuality they could think of.
Once they were happy with their preparations, they had called Hyatt’s secretary, who put them in touch with his driver. He advised them which hotel he had taken Hyatt to, so they headed straight there and checked in to single rooms one floor below their client. They both grabbed showers and a change of clothes before heading out for a bite to eat. There was an inexpensive steakhouse a few blocks from where they were staying, and they ate with the experienced enthusiasm of soldiers who understand their next meal might not be for a while.
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