chapter two
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“Well, you come highly qualified for the job,” Bradley House, the CEO and founder of Safe House Security, says as he shuffles my resume on the table.
“Yes, sir,” I reply, and adjust the visitor badge clipped on my pocket.
“This is the first job you are seeking as a civilian?” He clarifies.
“Yes, sir. I served for sixteen years and have been released from duty,” I confirm.
“Why security?” He asks, and steeples his fingers in front of him.
I know better than to tell him and the others in the room I need the cash in hand by yesterday. “As you said, I am qualified. I prefer a career I know I can be successful in.” And you pay six figures.
House grins and looks at the man sitting next to him. He is wearing a dark gray suit and his hair matches it near his temples. His green eyes are striking in their intensity, making me feel like he has X-ray vision.
“Are you willing to live on site with a client?” the graying man asks. He had introduced himself as a “friend of Bradley’s” but didn’t give his name.
“As long as the location is local, yes. I have my mother to consider,” I say. I would not allude to her illness, but a soldier recently returned home from duty and wanting to be near his family was not out of the ordinary. A job that includes not living in my mom’s one-bedroom apartment is ideal. It saves me from sleeping on her old couch or paying for my own apartment.
“It would be thirty minutes West,” the man says, watching for my reaction.
“I knew you were going to steal him,” House laughs at the unnamed man. He looks back at me. “My friend here has been a client of my company for so long that he owns half of it.”
“It’s probably no more than a half hour from my mom’s place,” I say with a shrug. “Sounds great.”
The interview continues with more mundane questions to gauge my temperament. I know that’s my forte outside of physical strength. I was gifted with the nickname ‘Cucumber’ in basic training. Not for my… girth, but for my “cool as a cucumber” attitude. It takes a lot for me to get angry enough for a response. That’s not to say nobody knows my feelings. I have a glass face, but I rarely react verbally or physically. Ever since middle school, I’ve been the biggest kid in the room. I learned very early being over six feet tall and weighing in the mid two hundreds as a fifteen-year-old intimidated people enough I never had to react much in anger. If someone saw my face- saw my anger- they typically backed down. Now, my weight is more and is solid muscle, and people assume I’m always angry and always a threat.
“Would you be willing to wear a mask?” the nameless man asks.
“A mask, sir? Like… a surgical mask?” I ask in confusion. If the person I’d be working with was immunocompromised, I’d have to check with Mom’s doctor.
“Hawk!” the man calls over his shoulder.
A man wearing all black and a black balaclava enters the room. My eyebrows shoot up. I notice a gun at his hip, and I can tell he is armed in other ways, too, but it’s concealed.
“Hawk and the rest of the people on my security team wear masks to conceal their identities. Each person on my staff wears masks and uses pseudonyms to protect themselves and the client,” the man says as Hawk sits in one of the remaining chairs.
“Um, yeah, a mask is fine. I wouldn’t mind,” I say with a shrug. It’s odd, but hey if the job pays as well as I hope, then I’d do it.
“Any further discussion would need an NDA to be signed,” the man says.
Oh, this is serious . Here I was, thinking I’d be body guarding Taylor Swift or some other starlet. But no, this is… different.
After we review and sign the NDA, I look up. “Is it bad that you see my face now?”
The man chuckles and stands up holding out a hand to shake. He doesn’t answer my question. “Now, I can introduce myself. My name is Geoffrey Taylor. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Oh, I’ve heard your name before,” I say as I stand to shake his hand.
Bradley snorts a laugh as we sit back down. “He’s one of the richest and most influential men in the country. Of course you’ve heard of him.”
“Not only that, but my company built the wristwatch he wore overseas. The first version of it was my first government contract almost twenty-five years ago,” Taylor says, referring to the GPS watch with biometrics I, indeed, did wear in the service.
“It has saved countless lives. Thank you, sir,” I say with a nod.
“As you can imagine, with so many government contracts, my family and I are often at the bad end of some real threats,” Taylor says. “My wife was murdered over twenty years ago at the hand of someone who did not like my success. She and her bodyguard both lost their lives that day. She pled for his life, knowing he had a young child at home. Her knowledge of his family left her weak and vulnerable. I’ve vowed to protect my daughter and myself by maintaining anonymity in my staff. My daughter’s identity has been hidden from public knowledge since her birth, and it would be your job to help maintain that security.”
“I’m very sorry for your loss,” I say. Hearing a bodyguard was killed made me uneasy. But that was decades ago, tech and training has only gotten better since then.
Mr. Taylor nods in acceptance. “There have been threats against myself over the years, despite our privacy. She is unaware of any continuing threats since her mother’s death, and I intend to keep it that way. I know Hawk here believes I should tell her, but I have long since decided otherwise.”
I exchange a glance with the masked man. Wrinkles are visible around his brown eyes, but he is still fighter fit.
“She is turning twenty-five this year and has decided to move out of the city,” Taylor grumbles, as if he doesn’t approve. “I’ll need a security staff member on property with her twenty-four seven. When she is at home, you will be at ease, though still wearing the balaclava. She is largely a homebody, but when she goes out, you will oversee her bodily safety and her privacy. Currently, her home is being renovated and having security installed, so you will live in the city as you learn the job. I have room for you at my home and will provide all room and board for the duration of your employment on my team. Being in the city is temporary. The house is scheduled to be finished in two weeks.”
“Sounds great,” I say, to fill the silence. They are waiting for me to back out.
Hawk clears his throat before speaking. “If I may add, Ms. Taylor will have home surveillance in place. Cameras in common areas and covering the entire exterior of the home and a panic room on each floor. Door codes will be at all exterior doors. Two factored authentication is required for all technology on premises. That includes your own personal cell phone. When in the city or in public with Ms. Taylor, you will be equipped with an earpiece of Mr. Taylor’s company’s production, to report back to me and my staff and to remain in the know about the home’s security. There’s not much chatter, but it has been proven helpful.”
“This sounds like tight security. I have no objections. I only ask- how significant are the threats?”
“We’ve received emails and written letters over the years. It happens on and off depending on my current contracts and if I’ve been in the news lately,” Taylor replies with a long, tired exhale. “When my daughter was born, we announced her birth, but kept her identity under wraps. Threats to her exist but most often cannot name her or give any information other than her existence to suggest any credible threat.”
“No chances are taken,” Hawk says firmly.
“Understood,” I say with a curt nod.
“Are you willing to move forward and talk about salary and benefits?” Bradley says with a jovial smile.
“Sure,” I say, already committed. Geoffrey Taylor is rich. Like… rich, rich. He often frequents the same business circles as Bezos, Musk, and other Silicon Valley giants. I know he pays well, and this is not an opportunity I am ready to pass up.
“Great!” Mr. Taylor says as he stands up and buttons his suit jacket. “I will now forget your face and name.” Everyone chuckles. “I would stay and brief you more on the job, but Bradley will give you the information you need to show up on Monday. I have another meeting this afternoon.”
We say our goodbyes to Mr. Taylor and Hawk, and Bradley House slides a black folder over to me with a knowing look. I try not to grab it too eagerly and appear too money hungry. Slowly, professionally, I open it. Not so professionally, I choke on my tongue.
“I know,” House says with a slow nod. “He takes the security of his daughter seriously and he only hires the best. He saw you coming in on our reception camera and knew you were the one for the job. I had you in mind for something completely different, honestly. But after speaking with you today, I agree with him. You are the best person to keep Wren Taylor safe.”
“Wren,” I mumble as my eyes absolutely fixate on the number of zeros on the paper before me.
“Yes, and in that folder is all the information you will need to get to their home and into the security panels. The papers marked Confidential in red must be memorized and destroyed today. The ones marked Confidential in blue can be left in your desk. As a member of the Safe House Security staff, you will have an office here in the building. Since you will work with Mr. Taylor’s family, you will only be here once a week to file reports. Hawk will take over your duty on those days. It is most often while Wren and her father are spending the evening together on Thursday. If you were to choose to leave or be relieved from your position with the Taylors, it does not indicate your separation from my business. This is important to understand.”
“I understand,” I say, tearing my eyes away from the papers in front of me.
“As you can see, the Taylors will take over the funding of your health insurance and your salary. This is not typical for clients of my business. Taylor is, of course, a special case. If all of this appears acceptable….”
“Yes,” I say. “Can I add my mom to my health insurance? As a dependent?”
House smiles. “I’m sure that can be arranged.”
“That’s all I needed to ask,” I say and give House a professional smile.
“I also have another meeting in ten minutes,” House says and looks at the clock above my head. “Like I said, I had a different idea for your assignment and did not allot time for a briefing on Wren Taylor. I’ll have someone come in that has worked with her and he can give you a rundown.”
Five minutes later, a young man, no more than thirty years old, enters the room. “Hey, I’m Jack. Are you the new Jay?”
“Um, I’m not sure,” I say.
“You working for the Taylors?” He asks.
“Yeah,” I reply.
“That’s your code name. Blue Jay. Or Jay for short. Pretty much everyone outside of the security room will call you Jay,” he says as he sits down. “We’re all called Blue Jay as Wren’s bodyguards.”
The name Blue Jay is present on all the paperwork in my hand, but I didn’t connect that it’s my new name. All those zeros….
“She’s a fucking piece of work,” the guy hisses across the table.
“Oh?” I say, not swayed one bit.
“An absolute princess,” he scoffs.
Of course she is. She grew up the daughter of one of the richest men in the world.
“Mmhm.”
“You don’t understand, bro. I’ve worked with this company for five years. I’ve worked with politicians, movie stars, pop stars, royalty, and heiresses. Wren is the only one to make me quit an assignment in less than three months,” he says adamantly. His finger jabs the table in between us to stress “Three months!”
“What do I need to know?” Forewarned is forearmed and all that.
“She’s going to do her best to embarrass you. She’s not going to know a thing about you, so the more stoic you can be, the better. Think of the guards outside Buckingham Palace. Stand there, watch her prance about like a demented fairy, and don’t react. She’s an absolute menace and hates the idea of a bodyguard. It’s like she wants to be attacked or something.” His lips curl up in disgust as he speaks.
The zeros .
“I can handle that,” I say confidently.
The guy scoffs. “No offence, but nobody lasts more than six months.”
Six months sounds perfect. I will have enough money to pay off my mom’s medical bills and the bookie. Easy. Six months is the goal. I’ve seen combat. I’ve been sleep deprived, sick, and injured behind enemy lines.
I can handle a princess.