“Technically, I was involved in an incident and finished before police arrived on the scene.” She could’ve stuck around to answer police questions but she really hadn’t overheard anything before she’d decided to clear her path to the elevator. “Looked like a shakedown or similar disagreement. One of the men attacked me and I defended myself. When he was neutralized, the other two engaged. I eliminated the threats with nonlethal force. Then I entered the elevator and came up to my room.”
Gabe was taking notes on her story as she related it. He’d craft it into an even more diplomatic statement if needed. “No worries, Lizzy, the police aren’t interested in questioning you or involving you in the charges for those men. They had some interesting history, more than enough to keep the police busy without needing to talk to you. Especially when it was determined you were a Safeguard resource on-site for an unrelated contract.”
“Then why did you wake me up?” she growled. If Gabe was using her nickname, they weren’t being formal so she didn’t have to be polite.
“Because seeing you in action can be inspiring.” Gabe remained unfazed. If anything, he sounded downright cheerful. “And in this case, it lined up another contract for you.”
She growled again without even trying to verbalize anything intelligible.
“Now, Lizzy, when you’re good and people are impressed, there isn’t any sense in being irritated about the cause and effect.” This time he actually chuckled. “If you give people a demonstration of what you can do, can you blame them for wanting your services?”
She clamped her mouth shut, refusing to rise to the bait. More often than not in the past year she’d had to deal with chronic instances of underestimation. Clients looked at her and didn’t believe she could be effective as personal security.
When she’d been active duty, she’d spent a decent amount of time proving herself. In the service, soldiers did as ordered and they worked as a team if the mission was to succeed—and in more cases than she wanted to remember, if they were going to survive—so people learned to trust her. She’d carried her own weight. The men and women who’d served with her had come to respect her for it.
Civilian clients didn’t tend to react the same way. The past year with the Safeguard Division had been smattered with a fair share of clients looking for big, burly bodyguards and not willing to believe little Isabelle Scott was capable of defending them. Or, and this bothered her somewhat less, she wasn’t the image they were going for when they’d decided adding a bodyguard to their entourage was the most trendy accessory.
Still, she had her pride to consider and she preferred to be on assignment as opposed to working the administrative side of things or training recruits over at the Centurion Corporation facilities just outside Seattle. She was too on edge to train, and she needed the active assignments to help burn off the deep anger still inside her.
Maybe she’d been looking for the scuffle last night. Just a little.
She sighed. “What do you want, Gabe?”
“You’ve been requested for an assignment. Specifically. And both the US Marshals and police are more than happy to coordinate with you.” Gabe snorted. “I need you to get to the office in the next hour to meet the client and coordinate with his assigned protection.”
“If he has a marshal and police...” She didn’t want to finish the question she had at the tip of her tongue. Full respect to the city’s finest but there were instances where augmenting a police detail with private military contractors were advantageous. It was unusual, but not unheard of. Well, this would be a first for her working with a US marshal but she could imagine instances where it’d happen.
“This is by request of the client and he’s paying for this with his personal funds. You won’t be on the government’s or city’s payroll.”
Wasn’t that interesting?
She’d had a good long bath last night and a decent night’s sleep. Curiosity was winning this morning. “I’ll be there at the top of the hour.”
Chapter Two
Kyle Yeun was no stranger to corporate environments, and yet, admittedly, he’d never overseen projects of a military nature, whether they were government or privately resourced. So when he arrived at the offices of the Safeguard Division in downtown Seattle, he’d been expecting something...more outdated. A renovated warehouse, perhaps, or a stuffy windowless set of offices all in psychologically approved standard shades of beige. The city had been around awhile, after all.
Instead, the Safeguard Division was located in a relatively new corporate center. They had taken over an entire floor of a six-story building, maintaining an extremely wide-open office space. Not a conventional cubicle to be seen. Instead, there were clusters of comfortable chairs and table spaces to encourage collaboration. Privacy pods lined the interior wall to accommodate sensitive discussion, but the walls were all glass for complete transparency. Presumably, they were maximizing the natural light coming in from the floor-to-ceiling windows offering breathtaking views of Elliot Bay, Puget Sound and the Olympic Mountains depending on which side of the building one was standing.
Each of those pods and some of the larger conference rooms seemed equipped with up-to-date videoconferencing equipment. Scattered across the floor, a few employees were working on laptops. There were even standing workstations and treadmill desks scattered here and there. For mercenaries, they presented a high-tech and, yes, sophisticated atmosphere. One conducive to creative thinking and group collaboration. Perhaps most surprising to him, it was welcoming for all that it was mostly empty.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in a corporate office environment with similar ambience, at least not with his most recent employer.
“Where is everyone?” He spoke out loud to no one in particular. The deputy US marshal and two plainclothes police officers sitting with him glanced in his direction but didn’t immediately offer commentary.
Someone, however, did. “Safeguard Division is relatively new, Mr. Yeun. Most of our permanent resources are out in the field. It is also Sunday.”
An impressively built man stepped around the corner, the one blind corner anywhere near where they were seated.
Kyle stood smoothly as his combined US Marshal and police escort scrambled to their feet. All of them were trying to appear unfazed but none of them had heard the man approach. Maybe it was the open layout of the premises. Kyle had expected to realize someone was approaching—see or hear something—but this man had caught them all unaware.
Having used similar tactics to put colleagues off balance in high-powered boardroom meetings, Kyle had to respect a well-executed play.
Tall, dark, the epitome of quietly dangerous, the man was dressed in a simple black collared polo and black slacks. He held out a hand. “I’m Gabriel Diaz, current lead here.”
Kyle took the offered hand and shook it. The man’s grip was firm and sure without the accompanying effort to squeeze too much. Gabriel Diaz was not a man with something to prove.
“Thank you for seeing me outside of normal business hours.” If such things existed for people who conducted their sort of activities. An offshoot of a private contract organization specializing in personal security, these people were still mercenaries regardless of how impressively they presented themselves.
Kyle, on the other hand, was the proof against his former employer and he needed allies like these Safeguard people.
Diaz lifted a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “Our line of work rarely keeps the Monday through Friday, nine to five, hours. Why don’t we take one of the pods over here? There are white noise generators to keep our conversation private.”
Kyle proceeded in the indicated direction without waiting for his escort.
One of them, Officer Austin, cleared his throat. “Surprised to see facilities so open to appreciating the view outside.”
&nbs
p; Diaz smiled but there wasn’t a lot of humor in the man’s eyes. “We like having clear view on all approaches to the office building. The exterior windows are Thermopane, of course, and blast-resistant. The interior pods are fitted with ballistic-resistant glass in case of unfortunate, unforeseen occurrences. For us, line of sight is incredibly helpful.”
Austin harrumphed. “Business must be going well.”
“We do all right.” Diaz pulled open the glass door to the pod and ushered them in. “Our parent organization, the Centurion Corporation, was willing to invest in these facilities. As I said before, the Safeguard Division is new.”
Deputy Marshal Decker remained a quiet observer throughout. But then, he tended to be a man of few words in Kyle’s experience over the past forty-eight hours. Officers Austin and Weaver didn’t comment further as they took seats on either side of Kyle.
Of course not. Neither of them had revealed personality to speak of over the past several weeks since he’d entered witness protection. And they were both more than minimally put out when he’d insisted on additional security. He’d registered concerns to their superiors at the Seattle PD and the Office of Enforcement Operations responsible for the administration of coordinated US Marshal and local enforcement. Decker hadn’t offered a reaction.
Kyle was not planning to play poker with the man. Ever.
To be honest, Kyle had gone so far because he’d been rattled. There’d been warning signs after the initial appearance at court, escalating to significant threats after the preliminary hearing. None of it could be directly traced to his previous employers, but there weren’t many others with the resources to find him after he’d entered witness protection. Last night’s incident had proven standard safety precautions were obviously insufficient. He was certain there were representatives on the local police force with both the intelligence and sense of humor to be exemplary guardians but, thus far, he’d yet to meet them.
So when he’d encountered someone who might fit his specifications, he’d immediately tracked her down. It hadn’t surprised him at all to find she was attached to a mercenary group. The price tag associated with her services as personal security had been enough to raise even his eyebrows though. The Seattle police department had collectively choked. The OEO had expertly evaded addressing the fees.
“You did mention how new your organization was, yes.” Kyle crossed his legs at the knee, not a posture most men adopted in the United States but Gabriel Diaz didn’t blink. Interesting. Perhaps he’d done business internationally. In Kyle’s experience, body language common to Europe or the Middle East or Asia could make those unfamiliar with it uneasy. “You also mentioned that most of your resources were out in the field. I had the pleasure of witnessing one in action just last night. Were you able to contact her?”
“We’ll want a statement from her.” Weaver sat forward. The woman was brusque at best, and no-nonsense.
Kyle could respect that in a woman but there was no humor left in her. She’d made a career for herself but she’d shown him very little joy in what she did. Cooperating with her was boring at best, unfortunately irritating most of the time.
Diaz raised an eyebrow. “It was my understanding that the Seattle police department didn’t need a statement from Safeguard in regard to the incident last night. My resource was on contract to augment the personal security of a guest at the hotel in question and dispatching potential disruptive elements was within her purview.”
Kyle tuned out the next few minutes of police administrative red tape. As far as he was concerned, it fell into the too-long, didn’t-listen category. What mattered was when the corner of Diaz’s mouth lifted in what was thus far a rare hint of a smile. Conversation ended, in Diaz’s favor, apparently.
“If we could return to the main point for being here, I’m requesting the services of your resource. Specifically, the woman I saw last night.” He didn’t know her name. Luckily, she’d been the only female contracted to augment security at the hotel last night and all of the extra security had been supplied by the Safeguard Division. Amazing how much information the pretty little assistant to the hotel manager had provided with just a few minutes of flattery.
“Seattle PD is not responsible for the costs.” Austin crossed his arms across his chest.
“Yes, yes. The OEO passed on the stance for both the US Marshals and local enforcement.” Kyle waved a hand in dismissal, aware of the way the gesture caused the good officer to turn red in the face. The man probably had been warned to ensure this expense didn’t hit the Seattle PD’s budget. Fortunately, a good project manager in the private sector easily commanded a six-figure salary. And Kyle had been very good at his chosen profession for a very long time. “It is within my means to foot the bill personally and I made it clear I would in exchange for coordination between the US Marshals, police and this organization. Until last night, my esteemed police escort might have scoffed at the idea, but the three men this woman so readily dispatched in under ten seconds—I timed her—were a step above the usual muscle sent to keep a normal witness from testifying. At least to my understanding. And your own commanding officer broke the news to me that they’d had orders to kill me, if possible.”
He’d dabbled in investment. Finance was a mental exercise for him and he’d made sure he had more than one nest egg tucked away. This expenditure, however costly, was most definitely warranted.
He wanted to live.
“If you’d stay put, you wouldn’t be caught out in the open by these people.” Weaver shifted in her seat, leaning forward and turning her body to face him.
“They knew my room number. I’m not certain it would have been better to have been caught in the hotel room by them.” The public nature of the confrontation had delayed the use of firearms. Otherwise, he could have been very definitively dead before he’d had any sort of chance to call for help. Grim determination made him set his jaw and return the officer’s glare. “As it was, I was heading back when they accosted me and the two of you were unreachable at the mobile phone numbers you so thoughtfully insisted I have on speed dial. I’m lucky the Safeguard operative was coming off duty and headed for the elevators.”
To be honest, the striking woman had completely distracted him as she’d approached. He’d lost a few valuable seconds where he could have tried to slip away when she’d started conversation. Instead, she’d been forced to engage and he counted himself lucky to witness the beauty of the entire altercation. Fast, decisive, and then she’d gone on her way without a single care for acknowledgement.
He’d been impressed. And not much in this world impressed him in a good way anymore.
Austin let out a tired sigh. “Either way, we’ve agreed to coordinate with your resource, Diaz. Is she available or no?”
Diaz slid a tablet out from under one of the side tables and logged in. He presented it to Kyle. “Here’s our standard personal security contract, adjusted based on the requirements and background information you provided during our phone conversation earlier. I’d like to be sure we have the details in place by the time she arrives.”
“What’s her ETA?” Weaver asked.
“Before noon. Considering her temper, I’d suggest we complete any adjustments to the contract before she gets here.” Diaz tipped his head to the side briefly. “Patience isn’t one of her favorite virtues to practice.”
“Not a compliment to your staff.” Weaver glowered.
“Oh no.” Diaz held up a hand to stall further criticism. “I didn’t say she wasn’t good at it. In fact, she may be one of the most patient operatives I’ve ever worked with, given the correct circumstances. It’s just not her favorite to put into practice.”
Kyle snorted and spared a glance at his glowering escort. “Join the party. What is one of her favorite virtues, then?”
Diaz didn’t hesitate. “Wrath.”
Chapter Three
Isabelle rolled her eyes. Diaz knew she was watching the feed from the pod. She always stopped in at his office first thing on entering via the back employee entrance on the opposite end of the building from the reception area.
And he’d left her a concise note: Watch and decide by 1200 hrs.
Her lead was nothing if not concise. She honestly thought if it couldn’t fit on a Post-it note, it probably had too much fluff for his standards of communication.
His message, though, could have a couple of meanings. She had a major decision to make when it came to continuing to take contracts through Safeguard. But Diaz wouldn’t give her a deadline with only a couple of hours’ notice on that.
No, this was about this specific contract and this particular client. Which was fine. But she still had a bigger decision to make. The reminder was there, in the note, and the way he’d decided to word it. Otherwise he’d have just said, “Watch. Let me know.”
It would’ve been a few words shorter.
Connected to the lead’s office was a small briefing room with multiple screens to support videoconference with multiple locations. It was one of the only dark rooms on the premises. A thin film laminate of rodlike nanoscale particles was suspended in a liquid between two pieces of glass for each windowpane making up the walls of the briefing room. When the switch was off, supplying no voltage to the walls, the suspended particles simply floated in a random pattern for one hundred percent opacity. Dial up the controls, applying gradual levels of voltage, and the particles aligned to allow light to pass through for variable levels of transparency on the walls.
The technology was fairly impressive. But for the most part, the briefing room remained opaque and private.
So she’d stood in the briefing room and watched the feed from the pod as Diaz continued to discuss things with Mr. Kyle Yeun. Diaz had also thoughtfully left her a tablet with intel on Mr. Yeun. Basic background check.
Deadly Testimony Page 2
