“And your name?”
“Brantley Walker.”
She glanced back at her counterparts. One of them nodded.
“I’ll need to see some ID.”
Brantley and Reese both pulled out their IDs along with their Sniper 1 Security credentials.
“I’ll need ID for everyone.”
Becs shrugged out of her backpack and pulled out her wallet.
She took each of the IDs and slid them under a digital scanner. Each one appeared on the monitors the other two were watching.
“I’ll need to scan your bags,” the woman informed Becs and Reese.
Interesting. She hadn’t realized they were going to encounter the TSA.
Becs glanced at Slade and Atticus. Both gave single-shoulder shrugs, looking as bewildered as she felt.
Since she had nothing to hide, Becs passed over her backpack so the woman could slide it under what appeared to be an X-ray machine. After she finished, she passed it back, then did the same with the bag Reese carried. Becs knew it contained water, food, and treats for Tesha, as well as waste bags.
“Now I’ll need you to check your weapons,” she told the group as she returned Reese’s bag.
“No,” Brantley stated firmly.
Becs glanced around; it was the first time she realized they were all carrying weapons. Everyone but her. She found it strange that she’d gotten so used to them being armed that she no longer noticed it.
“Excuse me?” the woman said, glaring at Brantley.
“You heard me. We’re licensed security agents. We won’t relinquish our weapons. Call Ronan Kavanagh and tell him we’re here. Either he’ll meet with us, or he won’t.”
The woman glanced back at her counterparts. One of them picked up a phone receiver and made a call. Becs couldn’t hear what he was saying, but when he disconnected, he glanced at the woman and nodded. Evidently, they’d been cleared.
The woman walked in front of them. “Right this way.”
Becs wondered if it was customary to get an armed escort when coming for a meeting. And if so, what did regular people think of it? The ones who were coming here to do business. It seemed like overkill, but this woman was definitely armed. Not only with a gun but also what looked like a billy club and pepper spray, all mounted neatly on the utility belt around her waist.
The woman led the way to a bank of elevators and pressed the call button. A moment later, the doors opened, and she stepped inside. Looked like they were getting the royal treatment today.
Becs filed in along with Brantley, Reese, Tesha, Slade, and Atticus. The woman shielded the keypad mounted on the wall and pressed several buttons. A moment later, the numbered buttons lit up, allowing her to select a floor.
A lot of security for an investment firm, she thought as they rode the elevator up to the thirty-seventh floor.
Expecting the woman to return to her post in the lobby, Becs was surprised when she stood in the hallway in a parade rest stance, her feet spread apart, her hands behind her back, and her eyes facing forward. Becs knew that position only because she’d asked Brantley one day when she noticed him doing the same thing. Apparently, it was something he had learned in the military. He said at some point, it had become second nature, and he did it without thinking.
Hmm. Was this woman military-trained?
She didn’t get a chance to ponder the question because they were on the move once again. Brantley led the way through a set of glass doors and into a reception area. No one was sitting at the large desk, which wasn’t surprising. It was Sunday, and Becs figured they weren’t expecting many visitors.
They stood there for a few seconds, all of them looking around. Was there a bell or something? Were they supposed to call someone?
She received the answer a moment later when a man strolled out from one of the offices.
Becs was glad she was at the back of the pack because her breath caught in her chest, and she prayed she was the only one who heard the gasp that escaped her lips.
She recognized Ronan Kavanagh from the photos she’d seen of him online, but there wasn’t a photograph in the world that could do this man justice. He was breathtaking.
