Guardian Angel

by Becky Harmon

  “Stiner, what are you laughing at?” She frowned as the tall, red-headed man quickly dove for cover. “Too late. You’re dead too, Stiner.”

  She hated Friday afternoon maneuvers. It was hard for the agents to keep their heads in the game. They were anxious to start the weekend and she couldn’t really blame them.

  Taking a deep breath, she barked into the microphone. “Everyone freeze. Remain in your current position.”

  She glanced down at the forty agents below her. From the observation post high above the fake town Flagler had built for practice maneuvers, she could see almost all of them. She needed them to take every drill seriously. How they performed as they trained was how they would react in real situations. She let her binoculars dangle on the strap around her neck as she glanced at her watch. They had two more hours reserved at this site and she wanted to end their week on a positive note.

  “Alpha Team, return to your rally point. Bravo Team, return to your original protected positions. We’re going to start this exercise again. If I spot you, then you get to run it again. Those that meet their objective can head home for the weekend.”

  Her announcement was met with cheers. They now had motivation to complete the course properly.

  “Move,” she ordered.

  She watched the agents scamper like ants below her as they all returned to their starting positions.

  “Here we go again. The clock is ticking,” she said, restarting the exercise.

  Alpha Team moved slowly toward the first building they needed to clear, and she was pleased to see each agent carefully locating cover or concealment before moving to a new position.

  Her phone rang and she grabbed it from her belt. Switching her headset microphone to mute, she held the phone to her ear.

  “I’m busy.”

  “Too bad.” Tamara Bowden’s voice boomed in her ear. “I’m about to make you busier.”

  She held back a groan. Her teams wouldn’t be headed home tonight after all. “I’ll be there in thirty.”

  “That’s fine.”

  She placed her phone back on her belt and turned her microphone back on. “Rally in the town square immediately.”

  She removed her headset but not before she heard the groans of her team. They knew a rally meant training had ended, but their day was only beginning.

  Chapter Two

  Angel slid onto the hard, plastic classroom chair and focused her attention on the woman standing in front of her. At fifty-three, Tamara Bowden was tall and athletic with the ability to command a room with only a glance. At Vince’s side Tamara had guided, praised, consoled, and instructed agents at Flagler Security for over twenty years.

  As she had thousands of times, she watched Tamara remove the elastic hair tie holding her blond ponytail and carelessly secure it again. As a teenager, she once had grown her hair long to emulate her. After her parents had passed away, Tamara and Vince had become her role models. As she got older, Vince had changed from caregiver to mentor. Tamara was always around, but she maintained a working relationship with Angel, offering a strong female example of what Angel could do with her career and always reminding her that she could do anything her male counterparts did.

  Working her way up through the ranks, Angel performed and then ran basic security and protection details as well as clandestine operations. She never used her relationship with Vince to gain favors or receive better assignments; she was willing to go anywhere and do anything that was asked of her. Now she led a team of forty men and women.

  Tamara slapped an eight-by-ten glossy color photo on the desk in front of her. “Ambassador Elizabeth Turner.”

  It wasn’t a close-up, but even so Angel found herself captivated by the mosaic pattern of the ambassador’s eyes. In only a second, she was transported from the classroom to the nearby emerald waters of the Gulf of Mexico. There the bright sun, periodically covered by fluffy white clouds, illumined the algae hidden beneath the surface of the water. Dark green, light green, and a variety of shades of blue, their hues all swirled together to protect secrets hidden within them.

  She mentally shook her head. Being distracted on occasion wasn’t unusual, but giving in to random thoughts like these was unlike her. She sat back and studied the publicity shot in front of her, noting that Ambassador Turner wasn’t wearing a power suit as most female politicians did. Dark blue pants and a creamy off-white blouse with only three buttons at the top gave her a casual, genuine appearance.

  Angel was surprised to feel an interest stir in her that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Women were a hindrance, something she preferred not to be bothered by. The ambassador was an attractive woman, but she was drawn more toward her turquoise and emerald eyes. There was a deep hollowness within them that she felt a strange longing to fill.

  She could feel Tamara’s eyes drilling into her and lifted her head. She saw the flash of a questioning look before Tamara began her briefing.

  “Our embassy in Mauritania is at risk of being attacked. The crowd of protesters is growing every day and random gunfire has started to erupt. Vince believes a show of force would settle things down, but Ambassador Turner disagrees. They’ve met in the middle. You’ll take a team of ten directly to the embassy to work with the marines. Leave twenty agents here for rotation in case the job lasts longer than expected. The remaining ten members of your team will position north of Nouakchott.” Tamara pointed to a location on the map of Africa behind her. “Exact coordinates are in the file.”

  “Their response time from that location?” she asked.

  Tamara’s hesitation was brief but obvious. “Approximately thirty minutes.”

  “That’s not really an adequate response time.”

  She met Tamara’s eyes, waiting to see if she would call her out for her criticism. What she saw surprised her—hesitancy with maybe a little sympathy, which Tamara didn’t hide in her words.

  “I voiced the same concern this morning. I was told to make it work.”

  Angel frowned. It was unlike Vince to put her team at such a disadvantage. “How large is the crowd?”

  “It’s irrelevant. Your team of ten will be the only response unless tensions escalate.”

  She nodded her acknowledgment of Tamara’s instruction and moved on to her next concern. “Do I have control of the backup team?”

  Tamara’s silence answered her question.

  Her gut clenched with foreboding. She didn’t like any of this. If boots on the ground couldn’t call in backup then what good was having them nearby? Not that she considered thirty minutes response time as nearby anyway. Getting permission through the chain of command would take even longer. She never hesitated to speak her mind, especially if the safety of her team was in jeopardy, but she also knew when to remain silent and accept her orders.

  She nodded again and stood. “I’ll prepare my team.”

  Tamara handed her the closed file as she passed.

  Angel stepped into the empty hallway and leaned against the wall. Something felt funny about this mission. She had always been able to count on Vince to make sure every detail was properly covered and assigned to the best team. This wouldn’t be her first venture into the political world on foreign soil, but this would be the first time working with a female ambassador. Especially one as attractive as Ambassador Turner. Despite her concerns, there was a part of her that was looking forward to this mission.

  * * *

  “Madam Ambassador?”

  “Yes, please come in, Shane.” Ellie stood and motioned for Sergeant Shane Miller to take one of the seats in front of her desk. The call from Vince had just come in advising of the Flagler team’s imminent arrival and now she searched for a tactical way to relay the information.

  “What can I do for you, ma’am?” he asked politely.

  She studied his lean face. He was the perfect marine. His uniform was pressed and clearly worn with pride. His hair was cut short in traditional military style. There wasn’t enough on the top of h
is head to identify its color, but his eyebrows and the shadow on his chin showed the dark strands.

  She knew from past conversations that he had two sons living with his wife in the States. Though US troops on embassy detail could bring their spouses and children, he had chosen not too. He had never been forthcoming with his reasons, and she had never felt the need to question him, knowing how hard it had been to convince her father to allow her to join him here after her mother’s death. She had liked the boarding school in Switzerland and she loved to ski, but the shock of being shipped there by her father was too much to handle on top of learning to adapt to life without her mother. Her father had selected the post in Mauritania to help himself get over the loss, she knew. It was a country in endless need of assistance, a place where he could make a difference. Which was one of the many reasons she had volunteered to be here now.

  She paced in front of her desk, struggling to find the proper words to inform Shane of the private security force on its way to join them. She didn’t want to undermine his authority and she certainly wasn’t questioning his or his marines’ ability, but—

  “Ma’am, just lay it out and we’ll deal with it.”

  She smiled. She loved his clear-cut, we-can-handle-it attitude. She took a seat in the other chair in front of her desk and turned toward him. “The secretary of state is concerned for our safety.”

  “Well, your safety is the reason we’re here. Is she sending FAST?”

  Ellie shook her head. Active aggression was required before the Marine Fleet Anti-Terrorism Security Team was deployed and apparently the disturbance outside was considered only a small-scale irritation to most of the politicians in Washington.

  “Right,” he said, nodding his head. “Not considered a large-scale aggression yet. Does she want to send more troops?”

  “She did, but she couldn’t get approval for the funds.”

  He shrugged. “We’re a small post and normally things are fairly quiet here.”

  As if on cue, gunfire erupted from the street outside.

  She watched his face tense. “Do you need to go check on things?”

  “No, ma’am. My men will call me if I’m needed. Please continue.”

  “Are you familiar with Flagler Security?”

  “Sure. I’ve worked with a few of their staff on other details.”

  She sighed. Maybe this wouldn’t be as hard as she had envisioned. “Great. Vince Flagler is sending us a team of ten to supplement your staff.”

  “Only ten? They couldn’t spare more?”

  She laughed. “I was afraid you would feel that I didn’t have confidence in you or your team, so I lobbied for as few as possible.”

  Shane shook his head. “I’m happy to have the help. Do you know who they’re sending?”

  “I can’t remember the last name, but Angel, I believe, was the first name.”

  “Oh, right. That makes sense. The Guardian Angel.”

  “Guardian Angel? Do you know him?”

  “I know of her. She’s an excellent sniper. Now she mostly deals with volatile groups, negotiating, and crowd control. Never been lucky enough to work with her though.” He stood. “When should we expect them?”

  “They’re scheduled to arrive in the morning. Bring this Angel person directly to my office and the three of us can make a plan.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She watched him leave and then returned to her chair behind the desk. Turning it, she looked out the window. For the last week constantly appraising the situation and trying to anticipate what the future might bring had been her regular practice.

  At first glance, the men gathered below didn’t appear threatening, but somewhere in their midst was the rifle or rifles responsible for the sporadic gunfire. They stood in one massive group that stretched from sidewalk to crumbling sidewalk, parting slowly whenever it was necessary to allow a vehicle to pass. She couldn’t see any difference in their demeanor from earlier in the week, but apparently Shane did. He seemed to readily accept the assistance being offered, and she wondered how worried he really was.

  Her thoughts turned to the woman who would be leading the security detail and her curiosity grew. Guardian Angel. She picked up her secure line, bypassing Chloe, and dialed the direct number to the CIA office she had worked in for many years.

  “Agent Cutter’s office,” a pleasant feminine voice announced. “Would you like to leave a message?”

  “This is Ambassador Turner. I’d like to speak with Agent Cutter, please.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Please hold.”

  Several seconds passed while Ellie debated the logic in making this phone call. Though she trusted Micalah, she knew secrets weren’t always kept and she didn’t want to get off on a bad start with the woman Vince had chosen to head the protection detail. Before she could change her mind, her friend’s voice came on the line.

  “Ellie!”

  “Thanks for taking my call. I know you have better things to do, but I have a personal favor.”

  “I thought you’d never ask. I’m ready and willing,” Micalah teased.

  “Do you ever take a break?”

  “Lighten up, Ellie. You know I’m only joking.” Her tone turned serious. “What do you need?”

  “Any information you can find on a Flagler Security agent named Angel.”

  “Angel McTaggart?”

  “I’m not sure. They call her the guardian angel?”

  “Yep, that’s McTaggart. Why do you want information on her?”

  “Vince is sending her team to back up my security.”

  Micalah was silent for several seconds, and Ellie knew she had said too much. When Micalah spoke again, her voice was filled with concern.

  “What’s going on, Ellie?”

  She released an audible sigh. Another friend hell-bent on protecting her. “A small crowd has gathered outside the embassy. Vince is reinforcing the boots on the ground. Everything is fine.”

  “It doesn’t sound fine. Is there gunfire?”

  “Occasionally.”

  “I don’t like this. It sounds more like rioters to me. Why don’t you leave for a while? Come back to the States for a visit.”

  “I refuse to be driven from my home,” she easily spoke the words she had only said in her mind.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Micalah chastised. “Will you be saying that when they overrun your marines and storm the embassy like they did in Benghazi?”

  “If the threat intensifies, I’ll leave, but I can’t jump ship every time things get a little uncomfortable. I’m in a country that’s not always friendly and I have to put a strong face forward to get anything accomplished.”

  “Maybe I should come for a visit.”

  “Please, no,” she groaned. “I don’t need you to babysit me. I have a staff of marines and Diplomatic Security, and the Flagler agents will arrive tomorrow.”

  “Okay, but if anything changes I’ll be on the first plane.”

  “If you want to help, send me the information on Agent McTaggart.”

  “I’m sure we have a complete file. Do you want that or only background?”

  She bit her tongue. She wanted the complete file, but her stomach knotted at the intrusiveness. She knew firsthand how deep the CIA could go. After she had announced her run for the US Senate, information from her many background checks had been leaked to multiple news outlets. From interviews with the grade school principal who had expelled her for fighting to the friend she had once smoked marijuana with in college. Fortunately for her, the attempt at a negative spin had provided the voters with a personal view of her that quite possibly had won her the election. Taking a deep breath, she vowed to let the Flagler agent speak for herself especially about anything not pertaining to her job qualifications. “Just the background is fine.”

  “I’m going to send it all. If it bothers your morals, you don’t have to open anything but the background.”

  “Thanks, Micalah. I’ll talk to you soon.”r />
  “You bet you will. I’m going to be checking on you.”

  She hung up quickly before Micalah could change her mind and decide she did need her protection. She looked out the window again at the crowd. They were chanting and waving their arms. She couldn’t tell what they were saying, but it was probably something about death to America. She studied the men closest to the gates. Their clothing was simple, and they didn’t look like radical extremists. She laughed at herself. What did radical extremists look like? Some of the protesters carried signs or banners, but she still couldn’t see any weapons.

  She knew there had been horrific events at US embassies over the last decade, and thanks to her years in the CIA she knew how quickly a peaceful protest could turn deadly. It wasn’t always possible to see what was brewing. She was trained to recognize global hot spots and deep down she understood why everyone was concerned about her, but that didn’t mean she was ready to tuck her tail and run. She had plans for this country. Plans to make it a better place for all of its citizens. A plan to end slavery and child abuse. A plan to save lives.

  Chapter Three

  Angel stuffed her toiletry kit into her duffel and zipped it. Closing the window on the fall breeze blowing in from the Gulf Coast, she looked around her small two-room apartment. Vince had designed it and he had an identical one across the hall. After one too many back-to-back missions, he had found her sleeping on the wooden bench in the locker room. Two weeks later, they moved into their new apartments in the rear of the Flagler headquarters building.

  Tucked into a wooded area on the panhandle of Florida, this huge one-story building was used by soldiers in the 1800s. The Spanish-style design provided a surrounding stucco wall that led to the tiled courtyard entrance. Dozens of native and imported palm trees were scattered around the grounds like silent sentries, greeting her each time she returned. On a windy day she could smell the salt in the air from Pensacola Beach. She was proud to call this building, with its arched windows and clay-tile roof, home.