Chapter 21
Not on Our Watch
Gabriel
“Target spotted,” I whisper into my coms as I sit overwatch on one of the White House buildings. It’s not usually my job to keep eyes on POTUS, but when there’s a credible threat like a plot to murder the sitting president and blame it on foreign nobility, it’s all hands on deck.
“Let me know when you’ve got the shot,” my commander says into my ear.
“Bad copy,” I reply because I know for a fact, he’s not asking me to take out a foreign dignitary. My mission objective was just to watch over those dignitaries no matter how nefarious.
“Copy is good,” he says before continuing to issue the orders again. “Confirm when you’ve got the shot.”
“Good copy,” I reply because if there’s one thing we’re good at, it’s the ability to adapt and overcome.
I continue to watch the group as they mill in and about the rooms of the White House. The older man in question moves seamlessly throughout the building. He stays close to FLOTUS and a visiting queen. He’s smart, keeping himself near those who are protected.
Finally, he breaks away to follow a server—a young woman with a long blonde braid down her back.
She’s not dressed provocatively, but he doesn’t seem to care as he corners her and grabs her ass, startling her.
She pushes his hand away and he says something that makes her eyes go wide before she nods with a sad expression on her face.
I can only assume he’s forcing her to meet with him soon.
She looks both ways like she’s a little kid crossing a road and then pushes through a door. He looks at the expensive watch on his wrist counting down the minutes and I’m not mad that he’s not going to make that assignation.
“Target cited,” I whisper into my comms.
“Send it.”
“Good copy,” I reply before pulling in a steady breath. And when I release it, I let my finger hug the trigger.
Before the earl ever hits the ground, I’m on the move. Scooping up my spent shell and dismantling my rifle. I’m not sure how the mission changed or why, but it won’t be me who takes the fall. I have too much to live for at home. I’m not going to have Macy visiting me in the pen.
“Mission completed. I’m on the move.”
“Stow your gear and head into command.”
“Good copy.”
Moving with my bag over my shoulder, I head to command. Mario has overwatch on another building. No one is getting POTUS today. But more importantly, he’ll have my back if things turn sideways.
Not on our watch.
My heart is racing as I head for the stairwell to stow my gear. I don’t let my nerves show. To the world I’m battle ready, but inside I’m wondering what the fuck just happened.