Page 66 of Her Ruthless Protector

“It’s possible that it will be one of the two semi-finals,” Kane continued, “but it’s more likely to be the grand finale on Saturday. That will have a viewership of one-hundred and eighty million.”

“You’re shitting me,” Lieutenant Gray Tyler said.

“No, sir, this is the big-time all over Europe,” Asher piped up. “Here’s how it comes down. Everybody gets their chance to play on the main stage on the days leading up to the grand finale. They sell tickets to this, even if it’s just for dress rehearsals, but it’s the semi-finals and the grand finale that are televised.” Asher sounded like some kind of professor teaching a class.

“Now, the judging goes like this.” Asher took a deep breath. “Each country awards two sets of points for their favorite songs, one from their professional judges and one from televoting. Mom absolutely loves to televote. Now, no country is allowed to vote for their own song, then—”

“Shut up already, you’re making my ears bleed,” Cullen roared. “No wonder somebody plans to blow this place up. Then there are bitches like Amber, and crazy sons-of-bitches like Python Sexton, and don’t forget about that act where someone is swinging from the rafters while they yodel.”

“Python Sexton? The eighties headbanger?” a voice from the audience asked.

“I was talking,” Kane said in a deadly tone of voice. “Unless you’re a lieutenant, I’m going to shoot the next one of you who interrupts me.”

There were a couple of anonymous chuckles but then silence reigned.

“Cullen, Asher, and I have been planning to go to the Mayor’s Reception for a few days now as part of the protection and reconnaissance duty, then later because of the sabotage. But now we need more people there. It’s a Murphy’s Law thing, just because it’s not likely anything will happen, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t have as many men as possible there.”

“You said the Royal Opera House, right?” Max sighed. “So, you’ve already taken care of the attire, I assume.”

“James Bond got us our tuxedos,” Asher said. “The three of us are styling.”

“McNamara,” Max said sharply. “Holster your weapon.”

“He brought it on himself,” Kane said. “I warned him.”

“Okay, this meeting is over with,” Max yelled to the teams. “Kane, go to the hotel and get some fucking rest. We’ll reconvene tomorrow. I’ll arrange things so the rest of us will be there as well.”

Kane gave his lieutenant a look of gratitude as he turned to leave the conference room. He pulled out his phone to call the hospital on the USS Mason again, when Cullen pulled it out of his hands.

“I’m driving you to the hotel, Buddy. No more calls. I just got an update. Zed’s resting comfortably.”

“Give me that,” Kane muttered as he tried to grab his phone back and missed. God, he was tired.

“You did good, Kane. You got him out alive. Now let’s get you some sleep so we can fight another day.”