Page 39 of Reckless Flames

The room was dimly lit, the shadows casting long, uncertain shapes across the walls as I paced back and forth, my mind reviewing the logistics of the plan I was about to set into motion. The tension in the air was palpable, a stark contrast to the usually warm and inviting atmosphere of my home.

Sophie and Madi had left, their conversation about the wedding and the looming threat still echoing in my mind. It was clear that protecting Sophie without casting a shadow over Madi’s big day was going to be a delicate balancing act. I needed to be strategic—to use every skill I’d honed during my time with the CIA to ensure safety without spectacle.

I pulled out my phone, scrolling through my contacts until I found the numbers of the few former colleagues I trusted implicitly. These were men and women who understood theimportance of discretion, who had operated in the shadows to protect without ever being seen. The team I had on the estate was very good, but I needed people without uniforms and with special training.

As I dialed the first number, I thought about what I’d say, how I’d explain the situation. The phone rang twice before a familiar voice answered, its tone immediately alert.

“Ben, this is unexpected. What’s going on?” the voice on the other end inquired, a hint of concern threading through the words.

I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. “I need your help with a personal matter. It’s sensitive and requires the utmost discretion. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

There was a brief pause, the kind that spoke of years of trust and unspoken understanding. “You know I’m in. What do you need?”

Relief washed over me, the first piece of the plan falling into place. “I need surveillance, someone who can blend in at a wedding without raising any eyebrows. It’s to protect someone close to me. There’s a potential threat.”

The response was immediate, the professionalism of my former colleague shining through. “Consider it done. Send me the details, and I’ll make sure we’re ghosts.”

I ended the call, feeling the weight of responsibility settle more firmly on my shoulders. This was only the first step—there were more calls to make, more pieces to align. But the assurance in my colleague’s voice was a beacon of hope in the murky waters I was navigating.

Next, I needed to bring Madi’s fiancé into the fold. He should know what was going on in the background at his own wedding. Of course, he would hear about it from Madi, but he deserved the respect inherent in being informed directly. I dialed his number, the rings echoing ominously in the quiet room.

“Hey, Ben. What’s up?” His voice was light, unaware of the gravity of the conversation we were about to have.

“I need to talk to you about something important, something concerning the wedding,” I began, my tone grave. “There’s a potential security issue. I’ve got it under control, but I need you to be aware.”

The lightness in his voice vanished, replaced by a steely resolve. “Tell me what you need from me.”

The plan unfolded over the next few minutes, a blueprint of discreet protection that would shield Sophie and ensure the wedding remained a joyous occasion. Madi’s fiancé was on board, his determination to protect his future wife from anything unpleasant at her own wedding aligning seamlessly with my own.

My next call was to Madi, a conversation I knew needed to be handled with the utmost care. I dialed her number, the familiar adrenaline of covert operations pulsing through my veins.

“Hey, it’s me,” I said as soon as she picked up, my voice low, threaded with a seriousness that brooked no argument.

“Everything okay?” Her voice was cautious, picking up on my tone instantly.

I leaned back against the cool wall, the darkness around me a fitting backdrop for the conversation. “Listen, I’m about to speak in riddles, okay? Just go with it.”

There was a brief pause, a silent nod through the phone line. “I’m with you.”

“We’ve got a bit of a situation, a fox in the henhouse, if you catch my drift. I’m setting up a little...surprise party for our uninvited guest. Needs to be hush-hush.”

Madi was quick on the uptake. “Understood. How can I help with the preparations?”

I paced slowly, the plan crystalizing with each step. “I need you to keep your maid of honor in the dark. The less she knows, the better. And the party favors? Let’s just say they’ll be very discreet. No fireworks.”

A soft chuckle echoed through the line, a testament to Madi’s resilience and trust. “Got it. Quiet party, no fireworks. And the maid of honor stays clueless. Anything else?”

“Keep the real party going as planned. Our...surprise shouldn’t interfere with the main event. It’s all about the subtlety, the art of not being seen.”

“Consider it done. We’ll keep everything on track. You just make sure that fox doesn’t spoil the festivities.”

I couldn’t help but smile, despite the gravity of the situation. Madi’s understanding was reassuring and her quick pick up of the faux cloak-and-dagger talk told me that she wasn’t so stressed as to have lost her sense of humor. “Thanks. I’ll take care of our little problem. You focus on the happy day ahead.”

We ended the call with a mutual acknowledgment of the stakes. The shadows in the room seemed to press closer, a tangible reminder of the threat lurking just beyond the safety of these walls.

The night before the wedding was a long one, the hours stretching out like an endless road as I hunched over my desk, surrounded by the soft glow of computer screens. The quiet of the night was a stark contrast to the storm of activity in my mind as I pieced together the puzzle of the stalker threatening Sophie’s peace.

I had gathered all available information: reports from local law enforcement, online activity logs from my computer expert, and even surveillance footage from around Sophie’s usual haunts. Each piece of data was a thread in the larger tapestry of the stalker’s profile, and I was determined to weave them together into a coherent picture.

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