by Becky Harmon
“Isn’t it better to jump than to let them storm inside?” McTaggart asked.
Ellie studied her face again. The tone of her voice was dispassionate, but the firm set of her jaw was easy to interpret, and she didn’t appreciate the implicit criticism. She tried to keep the rising anger out of her voice.
“Maybe, but keeping them from storming inside is what you’re here to do.”
The Flagler agent raised her eyebrows before giving Ellie a slight nod.
“Then allow me to make some suggestions,” she said, turning to Shane. “How many snipers do you have on the roof?”
“One. He’s mobile, watching all sides.”
McTaggart suppressed a grimace before responding.
“Let’s add three of my agents and keep a constant visual in all directions, moving them to whichever building gives the best view of their direction.”
“It’ll take six of your agents to cover both shifts,” he reminded her.
“I know, but if we use those same eight bodies every day they’ll be familiar enough with the conditions of the protest to notice when something changes on the ground.”
He nodded. “I see your point.”
“Let’s put the other four members of my team, which will include my team leader, Eric, into your shift rotation at the front gate. One extra body there shouldn’t draw too much attention.”
When Shane nodded his agreement, Ellie stopped pacing and leaned against her desk to look at them. “Great. We have a plan. Now, what about when I leave the embassy?”
The Flagler agent’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you leave the embassy?”
“There are people I have to visit and meetings to attend. It’s why I’m here.”
“I think for now you need to remain inside where we can keep you safe.”
Ellie shook her head. Didn’t she just explain her situation? She glanced at Shane, but he remained silent. “Not attending previously scheduled meetings also will be viewed as a sign of fear. As well as being disrespectful to the host.”
“Can you ask them to move the meetings here instead?”
Apparently the agent was prepared to keep plugging away on this subject until at least something went her way.
“I will ask.”
McTaggart nodded. Clearly to her the issue was resolved. If only it was, Ellie thought. She certainly hoped it would be when the day came for her inspection of the new solar panel farm being built in the desert about five hours northeast of Nouakchott. She had pushed hard for that inspection and she certainly wasn’t going to cancel it. It was still two weeks away, though, so it was a battle for another day.
Shane stood. “Let’s introduce the teams and get everyone settled. Then I suggest you guys get some sleep before going on duty.”
“What time does the rooftop shift change?”
“Noon.”
“Let’s get the extra coverage up there now. We slept on the plane so they can hang for a couple of hours.”
“The gate guards work on a six-hour shift rotation.”
“My team will be fine until their scheduled down time.” McTaggart turned and addressed Ellie. “Madam Ambassador, I won’t be far from your side throughout the day. Call if you need anything.”
“Her cell number will be on the alert list shortly,” Shane informed Ellie.
She watched them leave. A part of her felt safer with the added security, but another part felt like she was now being held captive.
She looked up in surprise as the agent’s head appeared in her doorway, bangs falling slightly across her left eye. “Would you like a briefing every morning, night, or both?”
She resisted the insane urge to say she wanted her here all the time. She liked the way she commanded a room. Her office had felt empty after she’d departed. “Let’s start with both and we’ll see how it works out.”
“Eight and eight work for you?”
She nodded.
“I’ll see you then.”
Chapter Seven
Angel walked around the edge of the roof. On one side, far in the distance, was the deep blue water of the Atlantic Ocean. Low-level structures closer to the coast blocked the shoreline and port from view. An occasional hotel stood a little higher than the rest, showing the Western influence in architecture. The views from the remaining sides of the embassy were identical to each other—crumbling buildings and walls in varying shades, ranging from sun-bleached white to terra-cotta.
She kept walking until she could see the crowd below. A large stretch of grass and palm trees supported by bracing bars was between the building she stood on and the six-foot-high stone wall that surrounded the compound. Steel bar gates allowed access in the front and the rear. The front of the embassy, where the crowded was gathered, was heavily secured and guarded by marines at the entrance.
She turned her attention to the protesters. She had noticed when they arrived that the group didn’t seem organized the way dissidents with a common goal might be. That had eased her mind but not enough to keep her from requesting the ambassador’s approval for additional support. Not that she had expected her to agree to the request.
From this height, she could see a man standing alone behind the crowd. A white robe covered most of his body, leaving only a black head of hair and not-from-the-sun brown skin exposed. He wasn’t moving around like the others, and he didn’t raise his voice to join in the protesters’ shouts. It was obvious to her that he was the one calling the plays.
She dropped to a knee as he took a seat on the low stone wall that bordered the business across the street. His posture was relaxed and his gaze scanned the crowd, never looking up though she was sure he knew she was there. A member of the group approached him and they spoke for a few minutes. He pointed to an empty area around the fence of the embassy and protesters were quickly repositioned to fill it.
“What do you see?” Miller asked as he took a knee beside her.
She shifted her position to give him a view of the man. “The man across the street. He seems to be giving instructions. Let’s find out who he is, shall we?”
Miller pulled his cell phone from his pocket and snapped a few pictures. “I’ll email this to the Communications Center. It shouldn’t take them long to put a name to a face.”
She continued to watch the ringleader while Miller explained basic embassy protocols. He handed her an access identification badge. “You should have access to every door in the embassy with this. Eric’s badge will as well, but your other agents will have the same access as my marines. There are some areas they don’t need to be in and for their own safety they’re better not having access.”
She nodded.
“Would you like a tour now?” he asked.
“I’d prefer to explore on my own first.”
They exchanged cell phone numbers, and she dropped her phone into her pocket as Miller walked away. She scrutinized the crowd below. A quick count told her there were about thirty men. She took a deep breath and pulled her phone out again, dialing from memory. She was surprised when Vince answered on the first ring.
“Angel? How are things?”
“The crowd is calm, but if that changes they’re too big for us to control. I need more boots. I’ll keep them out of view unless they’re needed.”
Vince was silent, and she wondered if he was considering her request or trying to figure out how to persuade the ambassador.
“Vince?”
“You know I value your opinion, but I can’t go against her wishes…yet.”
She heard his pause so she pushed again. “She’s being unreasonable.”
“Maybe, but it’s her call. Focus on keeping her safe.”
“I will.”
“Great. Call me if anything changes.”
She sighed as she pocketed her phone again. She could tell Vince agreed with her, and yet he wasn’t willing to fight the ambassador. This wasn’t the Vince she knew. She wasn’t comfortable letting someone outside her chain of command make d
ecisions for her agents, even an ambassador.
She gave instructions to her snipers on the roof, drawing their attention to the man she had observed earlier. The rest of her team had been dispatched to their appropriate positions, either to the barracks for rest or to a duty position. She was now free to get familiar with their terrain. Miller had given her a map of the embassy, but a map didn’t tell you where staff was positioned or cameras were placed, though, details that were of operational importance. She’d pencil those in and then send pictures along to Eric and Sarah.
She made her first stop the second floor of the main building and the location of the ambassador’s office. Cubicles filled half of the floor space; four offices filled the rest. She spent a few minutes making small talk with Chloe before moving on.
In need of caffeine, she returned to the barracks and retrieved her personal bag from the locked closet in the first-floor lounge. After filling her black travel mug with slightly scorched coffee from the coffeemaker there, she scouted all three floors of the barracks. She marked cameras on the map and made a detailed audio record regarding the layout before taking her bag to the main building and the third-floor room Miller had assigned her.
Tossing her bag on the bed, she secured her weapons in the lockbox provided in the room. She liked to keep her pistol with her generally, but it seemed unnecessary inside the embassy. Over the next couple of days she would observe the behavior of the crowd and the lone man on the wall and make a plan. Even if she decided to attempt to speak with them, a weapon might not be required.
The only thing on the third floor other than a few hotel-style rooms was the Communications Center. She would wait for Miller to provide that tour. She took the stairs down to the first floor. Most of the rooms there were in use so she stuck to the hallways, making a quick pass through the café before heading outside. It was at least twenty degrees warmer there than on the rooftop. There was an occasional breeze with a hint of salt from the ocean, but it wasn’t enough to cool the air.
As she passed in front of the main building, she studied the window to the ambassador’s office. It appeared dark with the afternoon sun shining onto it, but she felt the ambassador’s presence. She kept walking in case she was being watched from the window. She was still processing their first meeting, but she had seen firsthand evidence of Vince’s assessment. She really felt that “headstrong” might be an understatement when it came to Ambassador Turner.
She was pleased that her initial perceptions of the ambassador were correct. She was open and friendly, not exploiting her position to belittle those around her. Her staff seemed to like and respect her, though time would show the truth of that observation. It was hard not to admire her determination and persistence in the face of Angel’s suggestions about embassy security. It was always easier to work with people who yielded to her every suggestion, but Angel didn’t find them nearly as interesting as she was finding Elizabeth Turner.
When she finished surveying the supply and maintenance areas, she returned to the main building. Continuing to dictate her observations into her phone, she entered through the parking garage and was surprised to find the motor pool area empty of people.
“Three black sedans, and the four SUVs we arrived in are to the left. A lift rack and tool benches on the right. A small office in the rear. A metal fireproof door leading to the main parking garage is at the end of the row of vehicles.”
Passing sun-faded vehicles belonging to embassy staff, she walked its length, recording on her map where cameras were located.
The last area on her map was the fourth floor. Across from the stairwell and elevators was a glass door leading to a gym. It held all the typical equipment you would find in a hotel gym. It was an open room with one camera in the front and one in the back. A second door in the hallway was equipped with a security access lock. This was the ambassador’s private living quarters. She hesitantly swiped her badge, her body tingling with anticipation. She forced herself to concentrate, making a mental note to see who else had access to this floor.
She heard a soft click as the door closed behind her. Pictures lined the hall on both sides and she walked down it slowly, turning back and forth to study them. Many showed the ambassador at play or shaking hands with notable people, including several US presidents. Although she had read all the background information that Vince had provided, the woman she had met earlier was still largely a mystery to her and she found herself wanting to know more.
Angel stopped in front of a picture of the ambassador in shorts and a tank top. There was a number pinned to the front of her shirt and the running shorts accentuated her long tanned legs. The spandex shirt hinted at what lay beneath, small firm breasts, and she felt her mouth grow dry.
“That was taken at the Marine Corps Marathon in DC.”
Her body stiffened in surprise and she swallowed hard, attempting to find her voice before she turned to face the ambassador. Why hadn’t she heard the click of the door?
“Ambassador,” she said as she turned and met the blue-green eyes.
“I didn’t mean to startle you, Agent McTaggart.”
“You didn’t…Okay, yes, you did.” She smiled. No need to deny the obvious. She cleared her throat. “Please, Angel or Tag is fine.”
The ambassador stuck out her hand as if they were meeting for the first time. “Ellie.”
She took the offered hand and, unlike the first time they touched, allowed herself to appreciate the soft skin of Ellie’s hand and the firmness of her grip.
Realizing Ellie was studying her equally as hard, she dropped her hand and turned back to the photo on the wall. “You ran the Marine Corps Marathon.”
“Yes, and finished.”
She could hear the laughter in Ellie’s voice, but she refused to meet her eyes again. The first glance had rocked her and she was still trying to regain her composure.
Her admiration for the woman was growing. The Marine Corps Marathon was not just a normal 26.2-mile event. The real challenge was to “beat the bridge,” the race inside the race. Even if they ran the full course, runners had to maintain a fourteen-minute-per-mile pace and cross the Fourteenth Street Bridge at Mile Twenty within four and a half hours. If they didn’t, then they weren’t considered an official finisher.
“That was really your question, right?” Ellie teased.
She had to look at her then. The grin on Ellie’s face wrinkled the edge of her eyes, and her shoulder-length blond hair fell around her face, causing her to continually tuck it behind her ear. The repetitive motion was mesmerizing.
“Well, that is what’s important,” she countered. Her heart raced as the threat of losing her composure pulled at her. She had crossed an invisible line by entering this hallway and now she was allowing herself to be drawn in by the woman she was sent to protect. “I’m sorry I’m in your personal space.”
“Sorry you’re in it? Or sorry I caught you?”
She shook her head but couldn’t stop the grin on her face. “You don’t pull any punches, do you?”
“Nope.” Ellie motioned down the hallway. “Can I give you a tour?”
“I would appreciate that.” She held up her map. “I’m trying to get familiar with the entire building.”
“So I heard.”
She frowned.
“Something you’ll learn very quickly, Angel, is that word travels fast in this building.”
“And everyone knows something.”
Ellie pointed up at the camera in the corner. “Someone knows everything.”
She waited while Ellie pushed open the door to their left and then stepped aside. “Welcome to my home away from home. Feel free to explore. I’ll wait here.”
She gave her a wry smile. “Thanks. I’ll only be a second.”
* * *
When Ellie heard that the Flagler agent was covering every corner of the building, she had set out to find her. She didn’t think the woman would venture into her living space without permission, and sh
e wanted to be there to offer it, knowing it was an important aspect of her security duties. She hadn’t planned on catching her studying her photo, though.
She watched McTaggart—Angel, she corrected herself—move through her bedroom, remaining by the door on purpose. The lack of composure that Angel had exhibited when she approached had made her ego swell; it was nice to think that even at forty-five she still had some attractiveness left. Being in such an intimate space with her, however, was not a good idea, she had decided. Though her libido appeared to disagree.
Angel stepped out of her bedroom, her face tense in concentration as she drew a sketch on the paper in her hand.
“Are you marking where I keep my toothbrush?” she teased.
Angel looked up from her map and gave her a sideways grin. Her long bangs fell across one eye in the most irresistible look Ellie had ever seen.
“I can if you fear for its safety.”
Chapter Eight
Angel pulled out a chair and sat down at the rectangular table in the lounge outside the marine barracks. The posters on the wall reminded everyone of the hazards related to living outside the US as well as the rules to be followed and the responsibilities they carried as US citizens in a foreign country. A television held the place of honor high on the wall in the far corner with an extra-long couch and two armchairs placed in front of it.
The coffeemaker was an older model but still seemed to handle the demands placed on it. After her first slightly scorched serving, she had consumed more than one acceptable steaming cup. She had briefed her agents here earlier before they went on shift, and now she prepared her notes for an information exchange with Miller before she met with the ambassador for her first briefing.
The day had passed quickly and she already felt confident about her surroundings. She was not, however, confident about where she stood with the ambassador. With Ellie. It was easy to forget the position the woman held within the building. Her relaxed personality seemed to put everyone in a pleasant mood, though her staff remained courteous and professional. Angel knew blurring the line between her responsibilities and her desires was dangerous. She liked Ellie and wished she could get to know her better, but she needed to maintain a professional distance to be able to offer her the protection she required.
