“We’re donating all profits to two local charities,” Greystonecontinued. “Sinclair and Evangeline Develin’s, The Develin Center for Runaway Children, and Maverick and Carly Hott’s HOTT Foundation—Helping Others to Thrive—which helps veterans struggling with PTSD.”
Teddy continued searching for a person on foot, on a bike, or in a vehicle.
“East one here,” Slash said. “ALPHA Ops confirmed, the stopped vehicle is following the detour.”
Teddy breathed.
Caroline moved from the makeshift stage to the podium beside Greystone. “Tonight, we’re kicking off our fundraiser that ends on New Year’s Eve.”
As Caroline talked about the difference those charities had made over the years, Teddy kept his gaze trained on the street. He did a one-eighty, searching for anyone coming their way, but the street was void of vehicles and foot traffic.
The frustration that lived just beneath the surface seeped into his thoughts. Would this be a complete bust? Were they doing this for nothing? If the terrorists were tracking them, had they figured out the event was a ruse?
Using the binos, Teddy watched as Greystone and Caroline moved away from the podium so Sin and Evangeline could take center stage.
“Good evening,” Sin said. “I’m Sinclair Develin. Along with my wife, Evangeline, I’d like to kick off the evening with donations tobothcharities.”
“A vehicle has pulled up to the barricade,” Addison said through the comm. “Talking to lookout now.”
Teddy shifted the binos, but he couldn’t see beyond the curve in the road.
“Evan and I invited journalist Alexandra Wilde so she can interview Greystone Santini, one of the owners of Santini Ristorante,” Sin said, his signature grin front and center.
Teddy eyed them through the binos, appreciating how relaxed they looked.
“All clear,” Addison said through the comm. “They’re new to the area and had no idea where the detour would take them.”
Alexandra and her cameraman got into position next to Greystone and Caroline.
“I’m Alexandra Wilde, live at Santini Ristorante in Old Town, Alexandria,” the journalist began. “The owners of this popular, upscale eatery are doing something wonderful this holiday season.” Alexandra discussed each of the charities, explained to her audience that while the restaurant was closed for a private eventthatevening, and they’d be open for business the following day and ready to make a difference.
“Every dollar earned goes toward their chosen charities,” Alexandra said. “Stop by for lunch or dinner, enjoy authentic Italian cuisine, and donate to a good cause. I’m Alexandra Wilde with news channel seven.”
Greystone thanked Alexandra, waited for her, Sin, and Evangeline to step down. For a man who said very little, his brother continued talking for another fifteen minutes before he invited Caroline back to the mic. She spoke for several more minutes, then they thanked their special guests.
Alexandra Wilde interviewed a handful of “spectators” in the crowd, then asked Greystone and Caroline a few questions, all while the camera was rolling and the live feed broadcast their location to anyone who might be tuning in… or lurking in the shadows, watching their every damn move.
A full hour later, they invited everyone inside for the private party.
As the ALPHA Ops made their way into the building, Teddy asked Sydney, “Are you ready to pack it up?”
“It’s too soon,” she replied. “Ask BLACK OPS doing street patrol to keep the temporary barricade in place until we leave.”
Teddy did as she requested before checking in with his team.
“Birdman is staying in position,” Hawk said.
“East One is holding steady,” Addison said for her and Brit.
“Same with West One,” Slash said.
One by one his team confirmed they weren’t moving.
“I’m bringing Paul Revere inside,” Sin said of journalist Alexandra Wilde.
Teddy continued his lookout job. Another hour passed. Their advantage? The sun’s rays had set, darkness had settled over them. Now, the soft glow of street lamps illuminated the sidewalks and shuttered stores.
Both he and Sydney had changed positions several times.
