by Sean Black
‘I was thinking that maybe you’d like to stay here for a while. Look after the new arrivals when they get here.’
‘You’re asking me to provide close protection to a bunch of mutts?’
‘So, what do you say?’
Lock wrapped his arms around her waist, and frowned. ‘Guess it might keep me out of trouble.’
Acknowledgements
My thanks to:
Luigi Bonomi, for leading the kick-ass security advance party at LBA. Luigi is to agenting what Tiger Woods is to golf.
Steely-eyed dealer of death, Selina Walker, and the rest of the counter-attack team at Transworld, for their hard work, passion and commitment.
Rienk Tychon for beating everyone else to the punch, and Holger Kappel for showing such great taste.
Through the entire process, I have been surrounded by a personal escort section worthy of an unpopular head of state. Special thanks must go to Gregg Hurwitz for being such an inspiration, Andy Carmichael for instructing me in the black arts of the grey man, and all our family and friends on both sides of the Atlantic.
During the writing, Diesel headed my canine support unit, ably assisted by Angel (the world’s least appropriately named Labrador), Dfor, Magic and Silver.
Finally, to my two-woman residential security team, Marta and Caitlin. I love you both so much.
