by Fiona Quinn
Yeah, Remi had that Storm Meyers kind of energy about her. Capable and unafraid.
As he thought that, Remi turned her head and locked eyes on him.
T-Rex didn’t look away. This was part of his job as far as he was concerned, assessing those in proximity to his principal.
Remi stood, slid her pen and pad away under her tunic, and answered another call. With a finger stuck in her ear to hear, or maybe for focus, she paced the length of the bench and back,
As she turned, he noticed that her waistline was thicker than he would have expected. Given the apparent strength of her thigh muscles and the roundness of her deltoid, Remi lifted weights. Heavy ones.
Could she be pregnant?
Doubtful. Surely that would have been a known that would be part of the team’s prep package. Traveling with a pregnant woman wasn’t something that Winner would have missed.
T-Rex turned a quarter turn. This was getting out of hand. All he needed to know was that she was fit and capable of holding her own on this trip.
He didn’t stare at Jules and dissect him.
What the heck was he thinking, ogling the woman like that?
From her vantage point, that probably felt predatory, a man as big and lethal as he was staring at her that way.
All he needed was to have her see him lick his lips to make him come off as a first-class perv.
T-Rex didn’t need her to start interpreting his behavior that way. His insensitivity to her private space might become part of another “Special forces operators are jackasses” article. Though the ones he’d read were all accurate and fair, as far as he could tell.
The girls in the corner of the hangar stood and bounced with excitement as a jet taxied toward them.
It turned and parked as a backdrop.
Through the window, T-Rex could see a lectern and chairs. Obviously, the senator was planning a speech before they left.
It wasn’t on the itinerary. T-Rex would have to speak to the Senator’s aid, Diamond, about giving the team plenty of time and heads up if they changed their plans.
The senator walked in, and T-Rex snapped to attention.
T-Rex wanted to know how Senator Blankenship knew his name and why she’d requested him on this duty.
Maybe now he’d get his answers.
Chapter Eight
Remi
Wednesday, Washington D.C.
The guy in the khakis and black polo, who had been staring at her, suddenly snapped to attention. Military, obviously.
Remi’s gaze slid in the direction he was focused.
Senator Blankenship pushed through the door in her signature cowboy hat and boots.
Ah, the guy was part of the senator’s protection unit, just as Remi had guessed.
Hmph. Staring at her like she was a monkey at the zoo. What was the man thinking? You don’t observe people that blatantly.
He didn’t seem predatory, though. And he hadn’t seemed hostile. He seemed…curious.
And huge.
She’d watched him duck as he came through the door. How did this man crawl under the barbed wire in the obstacle course in training?
His whole persona was something out of Hollywood. Broad-shouldered, tight hips, soft-looking ebony-brown hair cut short, but not so short that she—that someone—couldn’t run their fingers through it.
His olive skin was warmed to a tan by the sun. Across his cheek, cuts and abrasions looked fairly new.
Remi would bet he came in from an assignment in the last couple of days.
Hazel eyes drank everything in. Full lips that looked so kiss— Remi cleared her throat as if that would clear those thoughts from her head.
He sent a shiver through her system, a tingle of excitement.
Interesting, since this assignment was anything but exciting. Remi was slogging through this story to get to Jean Baptiste. That was it.
The senator looked over her shoulder, saw the guy, and startled.
Placing her hand over her heart, she gasped and laughed. Senator Blankenship leaned her head back, her hand crushing the top of her signature red cowboy hat onto her head. “Whew! They made you big.”
“Ma’am,” he replied. The non-answer answer of the military.
“But there you are in all your glory, Josiah Landry, right? She told me you were a big ‘un, but her words didn’t quite convey the reality.”
“Senator Blankenship, I’m Master Chief Landry. I prefer to be called T-Rex to keep my identity private. It’s a security issue.”
He spoke softly—on-brand for a special operator.
Remi hadn’t quite landed on the reason why special forces used that caliber of voice. She’d speculated that the men trained to speak in a way that their voices didn’t carry—though that was rather moot here in the echoing expanse of the empty hangar.
Remi also had thought that odd tone they used was a way to exercise dominance.
It wasn’t the screaming rabid dog voices that showed power. The growly, spitting, angry voices always made Remi think of the phrase “all bark no bite.” No, this “special forces tone” was controlled and unaffected by emotion. The men spoke so softly that one had to bend in to hear clearly—to strain. Remi mostly found it obnoxious.
“Got it.” The senator bobbed her head. “Thank you. So it’s you, huh? When I was told that the president’s office wanted me to have security with me, I thought this might be my opportunity to meet you. I wanted a chance to see you in action.”
“Hopefully, ma’am, the opportunity to see me in action won’t present itself.”
“Well, you’ve got that right. We don’t need anything spectacular happening on this trip, no razzmatazz.” She shuffled her boot.
Remi thought that was a quirk that the senator had developed for showmanship. It was an “Aw shucks, pour me a whisky, why don’tch yah?” kind of move.
Blankenship’s personal popularity always superseded her job performance numbers.
People voted personality. It worked for her.
“Your wife.” The senator reached her free hand out, laying it gently on T-Rex’s forearm.
T-Rex’s body stiffened from its already formal stance when he heard the senator mention his wife. “I’m sorry, did you say my wife? Ma’am, I’m here as security.”
Wife. Okay, Remi could acknowledge that disappointment rippled through her system.
Wife. Good. Remi didn’t need the distraction of curiosity about this guy on a personal level.
“I well understand the importance of a separation between your work and your home life,” the senator said. “I apologize for blurring those lines. But I knew your wife a while back. Liked her a lot.” The senator rolled her lips in and nodded her head. “During our time together, she told me good things about you. She guarded me while I was on the campaign trail, supporting our president during his last campaign. Jess said at the time you were down range, so she might not have told you about me.”
“No, ma’am.”
“I was giving speeches around North Carolina, and Jess had been guarding me not three days before… Tragic. Just a surprising, horrible tragedy. There are no other words for it. During the time I knew her, Jess was a skilled, professional officer. I know you’re proud.”
“Ma’am.”
“Ha! Jess said you weren’t a big talker.” The senator turned her head, and Remi caught sight of her big toothy grin. “So I’m gonna tell you this here story, so you know why I requested you to be my protection.” She patted his arm, and Remi read that as an invitation for T-Rex to walk with her.
Jess (possibly) Landry. Remi noted. Out of curiosity, she’d look up the name. Tragedy?
T-Rex and the senator started across the expanse of the hangar toward the open bay door. Remi followed along.
Remi was a tall woman, just like the senator. She’d found that when she was interviewing someone much taller than she was, the dynamic of looking up at their faces shifted the energy between them. Remi liked equal footing. S
he’d often sit on the arm of a chair or on an adjustable stool so she could get her interviewee eye to eye. If that wasn’t possible, she’d do what the senator had just done; Remi would encourage a walk and talk. That way, they were parallel, looking forward. Besides the psychological dynamic, it was easier on her neck.
“I had gone to North Carolina to stump for our party, supporting folks up and down the ticket. My ideas weren’t necessarily well-received in the run-up to those speeches. I’d gotten some threats, along with the president. Since I’d need to go to the ladies’ room—you know, to freshen my lipstick and try to tame the wild tumbleweed on my head—seems to be what happens to hair in high humidity—they gave me Jess as my close protection gal.”
There was a moment of sudden noise as a woman in a blue suit was getting the teens up and guiding them to the seats outside.
Remi missed a bit of the conversation between the senator and T-Rex—great name. Remi wondered if he got a lot of short-arm jokes.
She picked back up on their thread when the senator said, “Jess was amazing. Quick with a smile. Quick with a sarcastic remark. Just bright as a new penny. Why, there were a couple times when I thought for sure that things were going to come to blows, but, nah. Jess talked her way out of every situation.”
Blankenship poked T-Rex in the side. “I’d imagine that she had you wrapped around that little finger of hers. Big as you are, and as little as she was.” Blankenship put out the flat of her palm to indicate about how tall Jess stood. “I hadn’t thought she was much protection when I first laid eyes on her. But you know, that taught me a lesson that I thought I had learned. You can’t judge a book by its cover. Well, unless it’s a Stephen King book. You see his name, and you know that whatever is between those pages is going to haunt your dreams with terror.”
She smiled at T-Rex. “Me anyway. I can’t imagine you being afraid of anything.” Stopping, Blankenship turned and extended a hand toward Remi. “You must be my reporter gal.”
“Remi Taleb, Washington News-Herald,” she said, accepting the senator’s two-handed shake.
A fly buzzed between the two women. Remi’s hand shot out, catching the pest in her fist. Her other hand slipped behind the high side slit on her tunic, and out came a tissue she used to squish the bug. “I’ll be shadowing you on this trip.” With another reach under her tunic, Remi produced a small bottle of Purell.
Remi cleaned her hands while Blankenship chuckled. “She’s like a magician,” Blankenship said to T-Rex.
Jules hustled through the open bay door, sidling past the students, then stood there disoriented in the shift in brightness, camera in hand.
Another plunge under her tunic put the bottle of hand sanitizer away, and she reemerged with a tiny digital recorder.
“Ma’am, permission to record?”
“Of course.”
She pressed the button. “Remi Taleb speaking with Senator Blankenship. Wednesday, August twenty-fifth. Senator Blankenship, members of the Senate aren’t usually afforded a security detail. You have three members of the United States military with you.” Remi had only seen the one, but that’s what Liu’s notes had indicated.
Blankenship’s demeanor micro-adjusted from the friendly warmth she’d expressed to T-Rex. Her posture read much more senatorial now. “It’s an inopportune time for me to be traveling, according to the NSA. Granted, it’s rare for a senator to be given any kind of security. But it was insisted upon. I guess things are at a flashpoint in the Middle East. When in my life hasn’t that been the truth?”
Remi pulled the recorder closer to her mouth. “But you’re going anyway?”
“‘Course I am. Do you know what happens in conflict? Women suffer. Always. When women suffer, children suffer. I’m not sitting back and waiting. I’m pushing for women to come into the government. I believe that when there are more women—hear me when I say, I’m not trying to displace men, simply trying to climb the mountain to stand beside them. When we do, I think things in the world will improve. A bias of mine that I fully own.”
“Security?” Remi redirected the senator back to the topic she’d asked about. Remi well knew how politicians started off a sentence as if they were going to answer a question, then they’d pivot hard to make whatever point they’d had queued up.
“There was some concern from the White House that my stopover in Iraq—no matter how brief—and then in Lebanon might stir up some issues. They didn’t want any blowback in this news cycle. It’s all in keeping the focus on this legislation that they’re trying to ram through lickety-split.” She smiled. “My thinking, candidly, is that they’re afraid of my presence being an opportunity to smack the United States in the face and start a bar brawl. We’re stepping off the plane in Iraq—”
“Don’t print that until we’ve left Iraq,” T-Rex interjected.
Remi nodded.
The senator hadn’t stopped talking. “—fifteen minutes and right back up in the air. In Beirut, there are long memories of what happened to America when we were there trying to keep the peace.” She patted Remi’s arm. “Long before you were born, I’d assume.”
“Are you referring to the attack on the U.S. embassy?”
“And our Marines.” Her lips dragged down in the corners, and she stared out the open bay, out in the distance. Took in a breath and focused back on Remi.
It was widely known that Senator Blankenship’s brother had been one of those marines who perished in the attack on the Marine barracks in Beirut. Remi wondered what this trip was going to be like for the senator. “Have you been there before, Lebanon?”
“Never. A first for me.” Blankenship popped her eyebrows.
“And you think this is a security risk for you?”
“I think it’s a security risk for everyone. I don’t believe the risk will be specific to me. I was asked to let a security detail come along. I have a distant association with T-Rex, so I requested him.”
“Military, not Secret Service?” Remi clarified.
“Military. Trained by Secret Service, though. And the FBI and CIA,” Blankenship tossed in.
What? “So they’re Delta Force operators?” From Remi’s reporting on special forces operators, Delta Force was a clandestine group who tried to wipe their existence off public records and were the only ones that Remi knew were trained that way. Delta Force and CIA were often fluid. Delta Force operators could be brought in and made temporary CIA officers, so they could navigate the various laws.
Okay, Delta Force and the senator, that was big.
“I can’t say for sure.” Senator Blankenship sent a furrowed brow T-Rex’s way. “And wouldn’t if I knew.” She spun her attention back to Remi. “And you should be extra careful about speculation.” Blankenship’s face was reinforced concrete, rigid and inflexible.
“I understand,” Remi replied, taking that admonition as a confirmation. “I can be discreet.”
“See that you do.” Blankenship gestured toward T-Rex. “I don’t mind having someone at my back. And since I sit on the Defense Committee—a huge industry and a resource flow for Texas—I like to see our men and women in action. It helps me make those numbers less bureaucratic and more personal.”
“Did you personally choose not to be protected by Secret Service?” Blankenship hadn’t agreed that this guy was special forces. Remi would try getting that answer by hitting it from a different, albeit speculative, angle.
“The Secret Service, like the special forces operators, are stretched mighty thin. Too many hours. Too little in return. Wears a soul down. I didn’t want to tax their systems further since they’re busy with the president’s barnstorming tour to gather energy around his initiatives.”
Remi pulled her recorder closer to her mouth as she asked, “The Secret Service has garnered bad press lately for an abundance of alcohol, partying into the wee hours instead of resting in preparation for the next day of work, strip clubs when off duty, and sex workers who went unpaid. Did you perhaps choose a military
escort so that you could avoid having your name attached to such behaviors should they occur while you are out of the country?” Remi pushed the recorder back out to capture Blankenship’s response.
The Senator focused on T-Rex, their eyes held, then she turned to Remi. “Off the record?” She raised a single eyebrow at Remi.
Remi tapped stop on her recorder.
“I’m interested in self-preservation, both of my person—though I don’t think that’s an issue on this trip—and my reputation. Woe be it for any man who creates a stink and bad press in my sphere. I am the golden gal on this trip. I’m to look shiny and fresh, a leader on the world stage. I don’t cotton to folks who create roadblocks to where it is I want to go.”
“Where is that, Senator?”
“Forward. Now on the record.” She paused to let Remi click her digital recorder back on. “I would say that I’m grateful for these proud and highly accomplished military men to be by my side as I deliver my message of hope and strength to the women of the world.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Remi cut off her recorder and slipped it under her tunic as Blankenship turned toward the woman in the blue suit rushing their way.
“What is it, Diamond?” the senator asked.
“It’s time for your welcome speech. The photographer said the angles with the lights were bad for filming. Rather than trying to turn the whole setup and lose the backdrop of the jet behind you, I got him one of those roller stairs to stand on, so you’ll look your best. He’s all set up if you’re ready. Then we’ll get the girls loaded on the plane and head off on our adventure.”
Blankenship looked up at T-Rex. “You just make sure it’s not too much of an adventure, you hear?”
Chapter Nine
T-Rex
Wednesday, Washington D.C.
As T-Rex emerged from the hangar with the Senator, he scanned the area.
