"The threat escalated fast. Her head of security recommended us specifically. She needs a full protective detail while she's here for a two-week corporate retreat we're hosting. Wilderness executive training on the surface, secure location underneath."
"Sounds like a Boone job." I glance at Mace. "He just handled the Plummer detail. He's got the corporate background."
Mace shakes his head. "Boone's on medical leave for another two weeks. The shoulder's healed but his abdomen wound needs more time. Doc Morrison won't clear him for active protection."
"Wolfe?"
"Running a tracking op for the marshals in Montana. Three-week commitment."
"Priest?"
Deck's expression doesn't change. "Priest is unavailable."
Which means classified. Fine. "Kai? Ryder?"
"Kai's working the leak angle from our end. Digital surveillance, communications intercept, building a profile on Morrison's inner circle. Ryder's on standby for compound security." Deck straightens. "The detail is yours, Hayes."
I should feel good about that. Lead operator on a high-profile protection detail. This is what I've been working toward for years.
But there's something in the way Deck said it. Like he's delivering news, not opportunity.
"What aren't you telling me?"
Mace pulls a tablet from beside his chair and sets it on the table. An email chain fills the screen. I lean in and skim it. My eyes catch on a line halfway down.
With all due respect, I require someone with more experience for this assignment. Mr. Donovan's profile suggests he may lack the seasoning necessary for a threat of this complexity.
I read it again. Then a third time.
"She requested someone else," I say. My voice comes out even, which takes effort.
"She requested someone older," Mace clarifies, and something about the way he says it tells me he's not happy about delivering this particular piece of information.
"Her security chief assured her you're fully qualified," Deck adds. "She pushed back. Twice."
I pick up the photo again. Those blue eyes stare up at me. Controlled. Composed. Certain she knows better than everyone else in any room she walks into.
I've spent my entire career dealing with men who looked at me and saw a kid playing soldier instead of a combat-tested PJ who's pulled bodies out of crashed helicopters and kept people alive when every odd said they should die. I've been underestimated by guys who bench-pressed twice my weight and had half my training. I figured it out. I always figure it out.
But something about this woman dismissing me without even meeting me lands differently.
"When does she arrive?" I ask.
"Two hours."
I set the photo down. "I'll be ready."
Deck holds my gaze for a long moment. Whatever he's looking for, he must find it, because he gives me a single nod. "She's a high-value client with a legitimate threat. She's alsodifficult. She's used to being the smartest person in any room and she doesn't respond well to people she perceives as beneath her."
"Good thing I'm not beneath her."
The corner of Mace's mouth twitches. He covers it with a sip of coffee.
"Hayes." Deck's voice drops half a register. The commander voice. "This is professional. Clean. By the book."
"Always is."
He gives me a look that says he heard what I said but also heard everything I didn't. Then he taps the file closed. "Guest cabin four. It's the most secure unit on the property. Sully's already wired it. Review the threat assessment, familiarize yourself with her schedule, and have a full security briefing prepared for her arrival."
