"Excuse me...I'm not looking for a new job. I've got two good jobs already. And you, Big Guy, just because of whathappened today, make no mistake I'll go back to DC in a heartbeat."
"Two?" Did she just say two? What’s she talking about?
"Well, Duncan, we haven't had a chance to talk yet, but just before I boarded the plane, I interviewed for a second more permanent position with Secret Service. Greg finally got his wish. I won't be on his team, but I'll be working with the service. It’s a new idea and it helps with relations between both services. It will mean I could move permanently to Secret Service if I wanted to eventually."
"What? Baby, you're already ERT and Special Service, why now Secret Service?" I watch Joshua out of the corner of my eye, and he looks thoughtful.
"Yes, but I'll only be called on a Secret Service call if they need a sniper. I already double over with them when they need close protection for Special Services. That's how I was able to come across the pond with a sidearm and am able to carry in London. Greg set Derek and me up to be air marshal qualified too. I had to call ahead and let the locals know I was heading over. I took the Quantico course to be able to double with the air marshals if I fly with a gun. I was able to partake in the most advanced training with the Secret Service sniper school. I'll carry two badges and it'll be such a plus for me. With my language skills, they'll utilize me more often now. Plus, I think it’s Greg's way of keeping an eye on me." She smiles at me. She thinks this is funny. Bloody hell.
"Let me get this straight. You’re an ERT sniper with Metro and now a sniper with Secret Service? Also, are you talking about Division Chief of Investigations Gregory Williams?" Joshua asks her.
"Yes, I've known Greg for several years; his son is my partner. I've not gotten the job yet, there was some extra paperwork and special considerations to make for both Derek and myself to double over. Nevertheless, yes, I'm a sniper. I also help with Special Services as a close protection operative. I have extensive training in most handguns, hand-to-hand combat, and I'm a second-degree black belt in Krav Maga. I've also trained since I was a teenager in Israeli tactical knife fighting with David Harel. I speak many languages. What more do I need to say? I'd say whip it out and let's compare, but you know I don't have one, and that would be too much for my man."
The way she says my man makes my chest swell. I want this restaurant cleared so I can show her how her man feels about all that. Joshua starts laughing.
"Okay, Maya, you made your point. I'm sorry to infer that you're less than you are. What languages do you know?"
"Well, I'm fluent in Yiddish, Hebrew, Arabic, French, German, Gaelic, and Italian. I know Pashto, Dari, Farsi, Spanish, Mandarin, and I'm currently learning Indonesian and Japanese."
"Bloody hell, woman, are you a linguist?" Joshua exclaims, making me smile with pride at my girl.
She's added a couple more languages to her knowledge base in the last six months.
"Well, yes, I have a photographic memory and was raised speaking many languages. My mother taught me Irish Gaelic. My father spoke Yiddish, Hebrew, and Arabic. We spoke them regularly in our home. He also expected me to learn more." I see the bitterness and hurt in her eyes. I know from our phone conversations she feels her father took much of her youth fromher. It was his attempt to make her as perfect as he wanted. I reach under the table to hold her hand. She turns and smiles at me.
"You know David Harel?"
"He was an old military friend of my father's."
"He runs a security company too."
"I know. He’s asked me on occasion to help him."
"I’ll admit, I've done some checking on you."
"You have?"
"Well, after Duncan accidentally hit the FBI security net on you, yes."
"I explained to him about that."
"What about that IA investigation?"
"How do you know about that?" I watch her spine straighten. She's wary about something.
"I have my ways. Care to explain?"
"It was a misunderstanding. My locker at ERT headquarters was broken into. Two of my tactical knives were stolen. One was used to murder another ERT officer. I was cleared."
She says everything with little emotion, but I can feel the energy radiating off her body.
"How did they know it was your knife?"
"I had my initials etched into the hilt."
"Did they find the suspect?"
"No." I can tell she isn't going to say more but my hand tightens on her thigh. She turns to look at me, but her eyes and feelings are blanked. She is hiding something. Joshua interrupts my thoughts.
