Royal Target

by Traci Hunter Abramson

  Garrett continued to read the Book of Mormon and slowly came to terms with the understanding he found within its pages. His conversion had been so gradual he had hardly realized it was happening, and when Tim had challenged him to be baptized, panic had shot through him. Despite his newfound understanding of the gospel, his choice was anything but simple. Would his family still permit him to function as part of the royal family if he chose baptism into the Mormon Church?

  As demanding as his duties could be at times, he couldn’t imagine what it would be like not to function as a royal. He had enjoyed his independence while in the United States, but he knew that he could never live life as an ordinary man. He hadn’t been born one. He wasn’t destined to rule Meridia, but he would always be expected to play an active part in the politics and protection of his country. In truth, he wouldn’t want it any other way.

  He was still amazed by how subtle his conversion to the gospel had been, just as he was surprised at how much he wanted it to be a part of his life. As the time to return home had drawn closer, Garrett had started contemplating what he would do if his father denied him what he so dearly wanted. For the first time in his life, he knew he was prepared to go against not only his father’s wishes, but against the king’s.

  The door to his father’s office was open when he arrived, and his older brother Stefano was seated inside. Though it was barely nine o’clock, the paperwork in front of Stefano indicated that he and their father were already several hours into their work day. Not for the first time, Garrett was grateful he wasn’t the eldest. As heir to the throne, Stefano was already entrenched in the everyday affairs of Meridia, from military concerns to the country’s diplomatic corps.

  Hoping to speak to all of his family at once, Garrett asked, “Where’s mother?”

  “She is visiting down at the hospital.” King Eduard Fortier IV glanced up at Garrett. “A car bomb went off outside of the US Embassy here this morning. At least a dozen people were injured, and one of the embassy drivers was killed.”

  Tension settled quickly on Garrett’s shoulders. “Do we know who’s behind it?”

  “No one has come forward to claim responsibility, but we think it must be terrorists.”

  “The United States has long been a prime target.” Garrett sat in one of the chairs opposite his father. “And our negotiations with the US, allowing them to build a naval base here, have caused a lot of tension—perhaps some extremists among the opposition are now resorting to violence.”

  “Unfortunately, there’s more. The threats against our family have also increased over the past two weeks.” Eduard lifted a paper off of his desk and handed it to Garrett. “This is a copy of the threat we received this morning.”

  Garrett looked at the page and read the note: Keep the US out of Meridia, or a member of the royal family will die.

  The words appeared to be cut out of the local newspaper. Just below the message was a news photo of the king, his head cut off of the photo and pasted at his feet. Garrett looked up at his father, unwilling to think of him as anything but invincible.

  Stefano spoke up. “Surely you aren’t concerned with a security breach here at the palace.”

  Eduard shook his head. “The palace, no, but I do worry about the chateau. The summer gala is less than two months away. We need to fortify our security there before the gala takes place.”

  “Can we move the gala here to the palace?” Garrett asked.

  “The economic reports have not been good over the past few years. Bellamo needs the gala to help stir its tourism industry,” Eduard told him. “We must act quickly against these terrorists to show the world once and for all that terrorism will not be tolerated in Meridia.”

  “What can we do that hasn’t already been done?” Garrett asked.

  Stefano spoke now. “Father, I think you need to consider the proposal from the Americans.”

  “What proposal?” Garrett looked from his brother to his father.

  Eduard straightened slightly in his chair. “The United States has offered some of their military and intelligence officers to help us investigate the bombing and maintain security while we finish negotiations for the naval base.”

  “Do you really think that’s necessary?” Garrett asked. “They have enough to worry about, trying to provide security at their own embassy.”

  “Regardless, they have offered to help. And since our alliance may be the source of these latest problems, I think it best to allow them a limited presence here while the negotiations are completed.” Eduard handed a file to Garrett. “Garrett, I want you to oversee the security and preparations for the gala.”

  Garrett’s eyebrows lifted. “Father, I’m hardly equipped to meet with florists and caterers.”

  Though Garrett had been speaking to his father, Eduard’s sharp tone told Garrett that Eduard was responding as the king. “I need someone I trust to ensure your mother’s safety.”

  “Of course, Father.” Garrett’s voice was immediately respectful, even as he noted that as the second son, his safety was of lesser importance to the royal family.

  “I will find someone to help oversee the hostess duties, but I want you at the chateau, where you are easily accessible to Martino,” Eduard continued, referring to the chateau manager.

  Garrett nodded and stepped toward the door. “I’ll go meet with our chief of security and inform him that I’ll be staying at the chateau.”

  As Garrett left the room, he thought of the Book of Mormon in his nightstand drawer. He suppressed his frustration that he had been unable to share his new understanding with his family. It wouldn’t be an easy subject to broach, and considering the possible outcomes, Garrett didn’t feel good about adding any more drama to the king’s already long list of stresses. Once again he wondered if he really could balance duty with religion.

  * * *

  Tim O’Donnell checked his watch for the third time in as many minutes. He had already completed the first two phases of applying for the FBI, and he was now anxiously awaiting the phone call that would tell him if he was headed on to the next phase.

  Tim had spent two years as a police officer in Maryland before deciding to go to law school. During his first year, he had considered pursuing a career as a prosecutor in the hopes of helping keep criminals off of the streets. By the time he had reached his third year, he’d realized he wanted to get back into law enforcement. With his police experience and his new law degree, he now hoped to fulfill his secret lifetime dream of becoming an agent for the FBI. The woman he had spoken with the day before had assured him that he should expect a call by the end of the work day.

  The front door opened, distracting him momentarily. His wife, Lauren, stepped through with a bag of groceries in each arm.

  “Let me get those.” Tim crossed the room to relieve his wife’s burden. “You shouldn’t be lifting so much.”

  Lauren rubbed a hand over her newly expanding stomach. “I promise you that when this little guy arrives, I’ll let you do all of the grocery shopping for a month.”

  “Just one month?” Tim teased.

  “Okay, maybe two.” Lauren sat down in a living room chair and watched Tim set the bags on the kitchen counter. “Have you heard anything yet?”

  “Not yet.” Tim shook his head. “I don’t know what I’m going to do if I don’t get accepted.”

  “You could always go back to being a cop,” Lauren suggested with a shrug.

  Tim looked up and grinned at his wife. “Or I could be a lawyer.”

  “Even worse,” Lauren teased just as the phone rang.

  He plucked it up, praying for good news. To his surprise, his friend Garrett was on the other end instead of his potential employer.

  “Hey, Garrett.” Tim opened the refrigerator to put the cheese away. “Did you tell your parents yet?”

  “I’m afraid that conversation won’t be happening in my near future,” Garrett told him. “My duties have taken an unexpected turn.”

&n
bsp; “In what way?” Tim asked, and Garrett relayed the conversation he had had with his father and brother that morning.

  “I’m sorry about the embassy—I didn’t realize it would impact you directly. I heard about it earlier today,” Tim told him before redirecting the conversation once more. “You don’t think your parents will really disown you for joining the Church, do you?”

  “I don’t know.” A hint of anxiety came over the line. “I like to think they’ll accept it, but it’s hard to say. If it does come to that, at least I spent the past few years learning to live as a commoner.”

  Tim started to disagree but decided he would let Garrett keep his illusions that he understood what real life was like for most people. Instead he said, “All I can suggest is that you keep praying about it.”

  “Yeah,” Garrett agreed and then promptly changed the subject. “Anyway, I just wanted to warn you about what’s going on over here. I wasn’t sure if you and Lauren would still want to come for the gala, especially now that she’s expecting.”

  “I’ve seen how much security you have following you around, so I’m not too concerned about me, but I’ll talk to Lauren.” Tim shrugged. “Hopefully things will settle down in the next couple of weeks. Who knows, you might even capture whoever bombed the embassy.”

  “Let’s hope so.”

  Chapter 4

  Janessa looked aimlessly out the window of her sister’s living room at the evening traffic filtering by, still feeling latent frustration from being sent back to the States again. She had been looking forward to attending the rest of the trade summit and watching history unfold, even if it was only as a member of Prince Garrett’s protection detail. Instead, she had spent the past week and a half pushing papers in a tediously dull office job. She took some measure of comfort in the fact that this current job was only temporary until the Agency decided what to do with her. She wasn’t terribly worried about being let go. After all, she had already completed her trial period with the Agency, and except for the three incidents Donald had mentioned, her work record was excellent.

  Don’t think about it, she told herself, then turned to Mary. “You never finished giving me the latest gossip from back home. Is Jake going to marry that girl he brought home last Christmas?”

  Mary shook her head. “He broke up with her a few weeks ago.”

  “Why?” Janessa asked, glancing down at a framed photo of her family, taken the last time she was in Iowa. “She seemed perfect for him.”

  “I thought so too.” Mary shrugged. “I think he’s afraid of commitment.”

  “Maybe,” Janessa commented, not sure what to think. She couldn’t claim to have any real experience with serious relationships. She had made the decision long ago that she would marry in the temple, but it had never occurred to her during her teenage years that she might not find the opportunity. Too often she felt as though being single meant she had failed somehow.

  She knew that twenty-seven really wasn’t old, but she wasn’t exactly tripping over men who were potential husband material. As her travels overseas continued to limit her contact with single members of the Church, she had all but given up on the possibility of marriage. Fortunately, most of the time she was happy just being herself, even if she was destined to live alone.

  When the doorbell rang, she motioned for her very pregnant sister to stay seated. “I’ll get it.”

  Janessa pulled open the door, surprised to find a courier on the doorstep so late in the day. She signed for the envelope addressed to her and then tore it open. An embossed invitation was clipped to a stack of papers. She scanned it, wondering why she would be receiving an invitation to Meridia for a party. She thought of her evening with Prince Garrett, but she couldn’t imagine that the few hours they had spent together would warrant a royal summons. Then she thought of her friend in security who was fond of practical jokes. “Supposedly I’ve been invited to Meridia by the royal family.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “It’s just a joke.” Janessa dropped onto the couch in her sister’s apartment. She flipped through the privacy agreement attached to the envelope, shaking her head. “I’ll have to compliment Alan on his originality this time. He can’t resist rubbing it in every time I get into trouble.”

  “How can you be so sure it isn’t real?” It was obvious that Mary was itching to call home to tell their parents and four younger siblings about the letter her sister had received.

  “Be serious, Mary.” Janessa lifted the embossed invitation. “‘You are cordially invited to the summer home of King Eduard Fortier of Meridia for the annual Independence Day gala.’ There’s no way this could be real. Royalty doesn’t invite Iowa farm girls to their summer homes. Besides, only the people from work know that I’m staying with you.”

  “Which means anyone in the government could probably track you down.”

  “True.” Janessa sighed. “I hate my job.”

  “You love your job,” Mary countered easily. She rubbed a hand across her swollen belly, smiling when the life within her gave another kick.

  “I loved my old job.” Janessa pouted. “I’m a linguistics specialist. I don’t want to sit around Washington, D.C., all day long and translate for boring politicians.”

  “So you would rather sit around some third-world country all day long and translate for boring politicians?” Mary asked.

  A giggle escaped Janessa at the accuracy of her sister’s words. “Well, yeah. I can’t tell you how exciting it is to live in another culture, to really get to know it.”

  “You can always go places on vacation.”

  Janessa sighed. “It’s just not the same.”

  * * *

  Alan Neisler was engrossed in his surveillance plan when Janessa entered the security office. He didn’t notice her presence, so Janessa simply leaned against the doorjamb, watching him. His skin was a shade darker than molasses, and his features still had a baby-face quality about them, though he was only two years her junior at twenty-five.

  The tip of his pencil broke, and he reached for another without looking up. Amused that his concentration was so unbreakable, Janessa walked into the room and sat down on the corner of his desk. Still, he continued writing until Janessa took his work and slid it out from under his pencil.

  His eyes followed the surveillance plan, and a confused look crossed his face. He looked up, seeming more surprised that his work had escaped him than to find Janessa sitting on his desk, feet crossed at the ankles.

  Alan lifted one eyebrow, a skill Janessa had always admired. “Did you want something?”

  “This one was actually pretty funny.” Janessa dropped the thick envelope on his desk.

  “What?” Alan studied the contents of the envelope with his typical intensity. He read the invitation, set it aside, and moved on to the privacy agreement. For several minutes he remained absorbed in the text. Finally, he looked up and spoke. “Is this a joke?”

  “Of course it’s a joke.” Janessa laughed. “When did you find time to come up with this?” She fingered the gilded invitation. “I mean, the bubble bath after the little incident in Japan was funny, and of course the rubber nose after that problem in Paris, but this really takes first prize. I guess that’s what I get for telling you that I met a prince.”

  Alan leaned back in his chair. His lips curved into a smile that slowly moved over the rest of his face. “I didn’t send this to you. I think it’s real.”

  “What? It can’t possibly be real.”

  Turning to a computer, Alan punched a few buttons to pull up the recent cable traffic from the overseas stations. He focused in on the cables from Meridia, finally finding the one he wanted. “Read this.”

  She stepped behind him, reading over his shoulder. She had heard about the bombing at the US Embassy in Meridia just two days before. Her eyes widened as she saw King Eduard’s request for military and intelligence assistance.

  Janessa stepped back and studied her friend. “This is insane.�
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  Alan’s grin stayed in place, and mischief flashed in his eyes. “I’ve never met any royalty before. Can you get me some autographs?”

  “I thought you were headed to London next week. You’ll be tripping over royalty in no time.”

  “Oh, come on.” Alan continued. “The only way I’m going to see royalty in England is if someone plants a bomb in Buckingham Palace.” He pulled out a pad of paper. “Here, you can use this for an autograph book.”

  “Stop it.” Janessa laughed, despite the absurdity of the situation. “There’s no way I’m going.”

  “Of course not.” Alan tried to keep a serious face. “Insult Venezuela last week, insult Meridia this week. For you, it’s par for the course. By the way, you’re supposed to go see personnel. You really are getting a new assignment.”

  Janessa stood, shaking her head. “I’m leaving now.”

  “What about the autographs?” His laughter followed her into the hallway. She made her way to the personnel office to find out where she was going to be posted next. Surprisingly, the receptionist handed her a message that told her to report to the director’s office.

  Confused, Janessa headed upstairs to the recently remodeled offices. She announced her arrival to the director’s personal secretary, deliberately not wringing her hands together. Surely the problem in Venezuela wasn’t bad enough to have gained the attention of such a high-level government official. She was surprised when the receptionist immediately showed her into Director Palmer’s office.

  The man sitting behind the huge mahogany desk motioned her in. Janessa had seen photos of him before, but this was the first time she had seen him in person. He was thinner than she had expected, though she had heard through the grapevine that he was adamant about exercising every day. His charcoal suit fit him precisely, the color nearly matching his hair.

  Determined to appear professional, Janessa sat in the chair he indicated across from him. She clasped her hands together, wishing her first meeting with the director were under better circumstances. Undoubtedly, she was going to be reprimanded for the most recent of her blunders.