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Given that we all rotated in round-the-clock security shifts before deploying, the whole team voices their disappointment. “And I thought she was smart,” Kai comments. “What happened? How did you find out?”
“She wasn’t in her office when I checked before five. The executive receptionist said she had left a while earlier. Knot didn’t even know. He called gate security, who outed her.”
“This is why civilians piss me off. We’re asked to risk our asses to protect someone, and at the same time, they’re sneaking out. Birdie, of all people, should know better,” Dunder rumbles.
Chelsea is quiet during the exchange, which is odd. She only watches with a strange little smirk tugging at her lips. In Birdie’s defense, I explain, “I found out later that she had a police escort from the compound.”
“Yeah? And who told you that?” Chelsea needles.
“Birdie did when I cornered her at home.”
“What did Knot’s little pet have to say for herself?”
“Watch it, Dunder.”
“Seriously. We all know Birdie is good at what she does, but she also has the boss’s special protection. I hope you spanked that sweet ass for pulling such a stunt. If not, I can do it when we get back.”
“Shut your fucking mouth!” I roar.
At my outburst, the room falls silent. My eyes dart over to Chelsea, whose smirk has grown to a full-on grin. Kai bravely pipes up again when no one else does. “Is there, ah, something going on between you and Birdie?”
The tension in the room peaks, and I weigh the consequences before nodding to confirm. My teammates’ reactions are anything but quiet afterward. The demanding questions range from when this started to when I was planning to tell anyone.
I’m not used to being under a microscope and shut my teammates down quickly. “First of all, it’s none of your damned business. Second, it’s none of your damned business. All you need to know is that Birdie guaranteed me that she would not leave the compound without Frank or one of his men.”
The group accepts the news and that they’ll get no juicy gossip and move on to separate conversations. All except Chelsea, who’s the quietest I’ve ever seen her. She’s still wearing that impish little grin as she leans over from her seat to my right. “This is kind of a big thing for you,” she whispers. “Must be pretty new.”
It’s been a couple of months for me, since that day in the woods, but I keep that to myself. “About a week.”
“You’re not just grump stalking from afar? Birdie’s a party to this?” She asks with a teasing smile.
If it were anyone else, I’d ignore the question, but Chelsea is a trustworthy and reliable partner. Besides, I live for the moments I can shock and shut her up. They don’t happen often. “It sure felt that way when she had a handful of my ass this morning.”
“You dog.”
She turns away to open her computer and, a few seconds later, leans toward me again, whispering. “I’m happy for you.”
Chelsea returns her focus to her computer, and I lean back and observe my team. I’m honestly surprised by their response. Well, lack of reaction to the news about Birdie and me. After getting over the shock, no one was bothered by the development.
What their reactions tell me is they’re not afraid for Birdie. Of all of them, only Chelsea knows about my father. The rest think I’m a hard ass, just not enough of an ass to be a threat to our intel genius. Interesting.
A few minutes later, Chelsea shuts the group up and gestures to her screen. “Looks like good news comes early today. We’re on duty tomorrow, but only three of us. Bash, Kai, and Casanova. The rest of us get to enjoy another day of Netflix and room service.”
I make eye contact with the two men, who tip their chins in acknowledgment. Kai Phillips. He’s half Samoan, half regular white guy, all badass. Former Marine and SWAT bomb disposal with one brown eye and one blue. It’s like nature couldn’t decide which part of him to make dominant, so each culture’s features were split down the middle.
Brett Love, Casanova because of his name, is third-generation Army who left his post when politicians decided woke political shit was more important than keeping soldiers alive.
Both are good men and likely to make anyone think twice before trying to touch the stone’s protective case. That is if we’re even in the room. We don’t have our assignments, only a time to report to the security station. We’ll learn the details in the morning.
Our shift the next day rotates with a half-hour overlap to have a short break over the six hours we’re on duty. Kai’s the only one of us who gets to be in the same room as the diamond.
Casanova’s in the main lobby, and I’m outside the exhibition space with a metal detector, checking visitors’ bags and persons. It’s not a job I would have chosen, and I’m sure to catch hell from my team. The teasing will be much worse once they learn about all the jokes from horny old women wanting to get felt up by big, bad security contractors. They won’t hear about it from me, but Birdie was right. Contractors gossip like little girls.
Birdie
My desk phone rings, pulling me from an especially delicious memory from two nights ago. I can’t wait for Bastien to get back from DC. Seeing the in-house extension number, I pick up the handset and answer, “Birdie here.”
“This is gate security. You’ve got a flower delivery. I can’t let the driver in, so I’ll bring it to the front desk at shift change.”
