Ashley took the offered notebook and opened it.
“We’re here to teach you about being safe,” Jeff went on. “In one afternoon and two days, you’re not going to become experts. That’s not our goal. What we want to teach you is preparedness and awareness. You need to know what kind of security you’re going to need so you can hire the best available.
“The first lecture is on security preparation. We’ll touch on various dangers, what is likely and what is unlikely to happen to you when you travel. We’ll talk about threats to your family. We will also discuss the duties and responsibilities of a security detail.
“Later this afternoon we’ll have our first session on weapons. This will occur at the firing range away from the lodge. You’ll be handling everything from a handgun to a submachine gun.
“Saturday morning we’ll focus on terrorist threats. Who, where, how and when. This will include information on both bombs and booby traps. Saturday afternoon is evasive driving.
“On Sunday everyone will participate in three different mock terrorist situations. The goal is to make you aware and cautious. If that means putting the fear of God into each and every one of you, all the better. Nobody dies on my watch. Any questions?”
Ashley had to consciously keep from letting her mouth drop open. She thought about all the time she’d spent with him and how they laughed and talked and made love late into the night. She was having trouble reconciling that man with the man in front of her. She’d wanted a chance to find out about Jeff’s world. Now that she was here, it was a little late to be having second thoughts.
* * *
“When in doubt, trust no one,” Zane said later that afternoon as he paced the length of the conference room. He pointed to a man in the front row. “John, tell me a bit about your business.”
The man, a forty-something British executive, adjusted the front of his khaki-colored shirt and cleared his throat. “The company is a multinational software conglomerate. We have—”
“Any kids?” Zane asked, interrupting.
“Yes, three. Two boys and a girl.”
“Any of them away at school?”
“One son is at Eton.”
“You must be proud.”
“I am. Margaret and I—”
“Margaret’s your wife?”
“Yes. She and I have been most fortunate in that our children are...”
John’s voice trailed off when he realized one of the security staff was typing into a laptop. Seconds later the printer shot out several pieces of paper.
“What is going on here?” he demanded, rising to his feet.
Zane took the pages and handed them to him. Then he turned his attention to the group. “John just gave the lives of his wife and children to a terrorist group determined to make its mark. In the time it took him to share some general information about his occupation, the type of company he worked for, the name of his wife and the number of his children, we were able to pull together a relatively complete file on him. The data bank already exists. Incomplete profiles are stored and as more details are learned, the profiles grow. One slip—a son in Eton, the name of a spouse—can bring it all together.”
John flipped through the pages and swore softly. “I didn’t know.”
“Most people don’t. You got off lightly this time. We’ve screened everyone. No lurking terrorists. Next time you might not be so lucky.” He pointed to John’s name tag. “That’s why first names only.” Zane turned to Ashley. “Tell us about yourself.”
She couldn’t help smiling. “I don’t think I know you well enough to share any details. But thanks for asking.”
“Exactly right,” Zane said, winking at her. “Better to be considered rude than be found dead. Remember, if you don’t know the person, don’t take the risk. It’s not worth it.” He glanced at his watch and nodded at Jeff. “Let’s switch subjects. If you’ll turn to the next section in your notebooks.”
“Security,” Jeff said by way of introduction. “Having too much staff is just as useless as having too little. Don’t get caught up in the game of looking good with an entourage.”
He continued talking, but Ashley wasn’t paying attention to his words. She was too mesmerized by how he looked. She took in the fatigues, the baseball-style military cap, the gun strapped to his waist. He was a stranger—a very exciting, very dangerous-looking stranger. He was—
Both sets of side doors burst open and nearly a dozen armed, masked men poured into the room. Someone screamed. Ashley thought it might have been her, but her throat was too dry. Her heart leaped into her throat, making it impossible to breathe.
Before she knew what was happening, the men were grabbing people and forcing them toward the rear of the room. Everything happened so quickly. There was a gunshot and a cry. Instinctively she turned to catch sight of Jeff. At first she couldn’t see where he was but then she noticed him by the front wall. He was checking his watch.
She felt someone grab her arm and roughly thrust her toward the rear of the room. Seconds later a voice yelled, “Clear!”
