Dante Olivetti barely made it through the front doors of Chase Security San Diego headquarters when the message hit his watch:Report to Mr. Bremen. Now.
He didn’t bother going to his desk. Nothing good ever came with “now.”
The elevator climbed with the soft hiss of wealth and paranoia. Up top, sunlight poured in through floor-to-ceiling windows, the Pacific stretched out behind the glass. Troy Bremen stood near one of them, coffee in one hand, tablet in the other, shoulders squared like ten contracts sat between his blades.
He didn’t turn when Dante entered. “Close the door.”
Dante did. “What’s going on?”
“You’re going to Colorado.”
Dante blinked. “Wasn’t planning on mountain hiking this week.”
Troy handed him the tablet. “You’re going undercover. Athletic staff. Non-commissioned officer. U.S. Air Force Academy.”
Dante stared. “You’re serious.”
“Very.”
“Do I even get a cover story, or are we just throwing me in a tracksuit and hoping no one notices I carry on like a tier-one op?”
“You’re a prior-service NCO with experience in physical performance and injury prevention,” Troy replied. “Contracted for the summer session and extended if needed.”
Dante raised an eyebrow. “Who’s the target?”
Troy met his eyes. “Shannon Johnson.”
Dante froze for a beat. “You’re joking. You want me to babysit the COO’s daughter?”
Troy’s voice didn’t change. “She’s not a civilian anymore. As of next week, she’s a cadet at the Academy. And she’s a high-value target.”
Dante exhaled through his nose. “She’s eighteen.”
“She’s also Meagan Johnson’s daughter. Meagan and Mike are both Academy graduates. Meagan was Air Force intelligence at the time of her death,” Troy said, “which means someone’s always watching. We’ve picked up renewed foreign pings on Johnson assets since spring. Could be noise. Could be more. We’re not taking chances.”
Dante leaned on the desk. “Does she know?”
“No. The Air Force Academy staff doesn’t know. Neither will her classmates, and it stays that way.”
“When do I report?”
“You fly out tomorrow. Get squared away. Cadets report Monday.”
Dante ran a hand down his jaw, processing. “End of June, right?”
“Yes, that is tomorrow. Colorado Springs is still dry this time of year. Cold at night, in the sixties. High seventies to low eighties by midday.”
“Good running weather,” Dante muttered.
Troy smirked. “You’ll need it. She’s got energy and nowhere to put it. She’s coming in hot. You keep her focused, unflinching and, above all, safe.”
“You expect her to be targeted?”
“We don’t know. But she’s a wildcard with a huge political shadow, two last names people track, and a mouth that doesn’t back down. That’s a dangerous mix for a cadet who hasn't even touched the tarmac yet.”
“Two names?”
“She’s coming in under her mom’s maiden name, McKenna. Mike put a covert name change through, at Shannon’s request.”
