Casimir sat back in his seat, frowning.
Arthur held up his phone, which was flashing red, and waved it at the rest of them sitting in the backseat. “You have a call, Max.”
And he threw it into the rear seat.
Max snagged it out of the air before it bonked Dree’s shins. “Hello?”
A man’s voice, low and accented with an odd combination of French and German, said, “I have some operators on the ground near your location. They areen routeto the palace now and can provide security for at least a month. We can provide a rotation after that. We had an operation there last month, and a few of my personnel decided to stick around for a winter vacation.”
Maxence sighed. “Our helicopter will be landing at the palace momentarily.”
“I am notifying them to secure the landing pad first.”
“Thank you, Mr. Schwarz, and please, thank Flicka for me.”
Dieter Schwarz’s voice lowered and became gruff. “She’s right here and demanding to speak with you.”
Fumbling.
Flicka asked him, “Is there anything else I can do?”
“That was amazing. Thank you.”
Her voice cracked. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah, of course. I have to go. I’ll call you later.”
“Sure. Stay safe.”
Maxence raised his hand in Arthur’s general direction. “See? All taken care of.”
Dree laughed, and the helicopter growled through the sky for a few more minutes and landed on the palace’s roof in Monaco.
A small group of men wearing black fatigues with no national insignia waited for them on the roof.
Chapter Fourteen
THE PRINCE’S PALACE
Maxence
Maxence pushed open the door of the helicopter while the rotors were still winding down. Fresh sea air rushed into the stale cabin. The other helicopter bearing Micah, Blaze, and Logan diverted to the yacht club’s roof.
Dree struggled to climb off their laps, landing with her high-heeled pumps on the asphalt. Maxence steadied her even as he was stepping out of the helicopter.
The mercenaries standing off to the side didn’t march over in formation, as Maxence had expected them to, but fanned out around the edges of the roof and formed a shielded path for them to walk from the helicopter to the door leading to the helipad reception room of the palace.
One tall, lean mercenary detached from the other commandos and approached them. He wore his black beret at a rakish angle above ice blue eyes, and his black hair was cut military-short. “My name is Commander Magnus Jensen. Rogue Security has been retained to establish a security perimeter and evaluate your future security needs. Do you agree to this operation?”
Arthur leaned around Maxence. “Yes. Yes, he does.”
Magnus Jensen said, “I’m sorry, sir, but I need to hear it from the subject themself. Do you agree to this operation, sir?”
Maxence said, “Yes, and thank you for coming on short notice.”
“Pleased to be of service, Your Highness.” He looked beyond Maxence to Arthur and Casimir. “And my lord, Your Highness, and Mr. King.”
The three of them nodded, and Maxence heard Twist ask Arthur, “Did he tell them our names?”
