Chapter 4
DAGMAR
We load duffels into the helicopter with more gear than we’ll ever need, including a cache of weapons suitable for taking over a small country.
“We’re heading to Pease AFB in Portsmouth to pick up the package,” Joe says, “and then we’ll land her on the field at Fenway Park. We need to get there before they set up seating for tonight.”
It’s hot on the roof, even for a late September afternoon, and I wipe sweat from my forehead, wishing I had a long sleeve. I pull a jacket from the pile of gear in the back of the helo.
“They’re letting us land on the field at Fenway Park?” Collin’s brows furrow as he jumps from the storage bay. “Since when—”
Joe grins. “I still have some contacts from working with the Governor’s office.”
“I bet you miss working with Peter.” I say.
I can only guess since I never met him. He and Dane were the universal OGs of the unit and will always remain untouchable legends in my head, strangers I can only imagine having worked with.
But Joe and Collin both served with them and then worked with them here in the states.
The wistful breeze of emotions surprises me because I have no regrets about staying with the joint unit in the UK.
None at all. Not even the one named Collin Lynch no matter what he may think. I did the right thing. The only thing I could do.
We climb into our seats in the helo, same ones we had before, now our officially assigned seats for the duration.
“It seems I’m out of the loop on pop musicians, so tell me about Kat.”
Collin leans forward from the back as Joe runs down his checklist. “She started out as a solo singer-songwriter and guitarist from Portsmouth, New Hampshire. She built a following on her YouTube channel and started with local gigs in Portsmouth, and then in Boston.”
“YouTube? That’s it? I didn’t know you could become a pop star on the strength of a YouTube presence.”
“She has over two million followers.” Collin’s expression is no less than smug.
That gets my attention. His smug smile, not that she has a big following.
“Spoken like a true fan-boy,” I jab.
“I admit it,” he says.
Joe stows his clipboard. “She’s bigger than YouTube. She has a killer agent who got her a record deal and this concert series. She’s legit.”
“But do you think the threat is legitimate?”
“I’m assuming it is pending further information,” Joe says. “This assignment was set up quickly. It’s a referral from a job PJD got me when he was still governor. I haven’t had a chance to do the usual due diligence. I’ve barely put together a file.”
“Don’t we have Acer on retainer to handle all things internet research related?” Collin asks
“I thought so, but he’s not as available since he got hitched to Isabella.”
Collin grunts and it’s hard to say what he’s thinking.
The sound and the confusion brings back all kinds of memories and emotions.
Sometimes I loved his efficient genuine way of communicating and others it was maddeningly minimal.
Now I can’t tell if he’s expressing approval or irritation or acknowledgment.
We pick up Kat with three of her so-called Kittens—back up dancer-singers—without a hitch, and land at Fenway in less than an hour.
There’s no chance for more than perfunctory introductions until we unload, leaving most of the gear behind and Joe takes off to park his helo at a nearby roof-top and walks back.
That leaves me and Collin to look after Kat while the stage is set and chairs brought in on the field, transforming Fenway into a concert venue.
Of course Kat is immediately drawn to Collin. I can see the unmistakable interest light her eyes. The stinging truth is that I don’t like it one bit. It’s unprofessional. But Joe doesn’t seem to notice or care and I wonder if I’m over-reacting. Shit.