He's smart enough to wear soft-soled shoes and moves with the kind of quiet that isn't natural but has been hammered into him by enough years in bad places.
I let the silence work for a few seconds, then gesture them to the chairs.
They sit at the edge, not quite at ease.
I approve.
"Here's the situation," I say.
"There's outside interest in our guest. It's not open, but it's deliberate. Mullins, you'll run perimeter. No more than thirty meters, day and night. Change your pattern every six hours. You're backup for the regular guards, but you're not to be seen."
He nods once.
"Understood."
"Gorman, you're interior. Stick to the main floor unless there's a deviation. The target is unpredictable but smart. Don't underestimate her. If she spots you, you deny everything and stick to the cover story."
Gorman leans in, voice soft.
"What's the story?"
I meet his gaze.
"You're here to inspect the heating. Old pipes, new system, house is a sieve. If she asks questions, be technical. She'll lose interest fast."
He grins, a flash of teeth.
"Copy."
"Neither of you is to engage unless she's in danger or unless someone else breaches the line. No one is to know you're shadowing. Not even the house staff. If you're made, you report to me. Directly. No intermediaries."
I stand, let them know the meeting is over.
"Questions?"
Gorman glances at Mullins, then back at me.
"You expecting a play, or just smoke?"
"Assume both, and that means our guest could be in real trouble unless we intervene, although she is the last person who'd accept that," I say. "The Connollys don't send scouts unless they're preparing for a siege. But the minute we look scared, we're fucked. I want them to think we don't see them."
Mullins nods, stands at parade rest.
"If there's contact?"
"Contain it," I say.
"No one gets hurt unless they throw the first punch. We're not the aggressors, not this week."
Gorman cracks his knuckles, which is as close to nervous as he ever gets.
"Understood."
I give them the nod, and they're gone.
I linger in the office afterward, letting the adrenaline bleed out.
Then, I make the rounds anyway, a ghost in my own fortress.
