Page 2 of Mountain Security

She's probably a ninety-year-old hag.

“Careful with her,” Drake drawled, his Canadian accent coming to the fore. “She’s a ball-breaker.”

“Drake,” Damien admonished.

“What? Sheis. That's not a bad thing,” the man added quickly. “She’s the mayor’s chief of staff. The youngest person ever to hold the role. Absolutely committed to her job, but I’ve seen her drive grown men to tears in meetings. I’m just warning Alex, so he’ll know not to get on her bad side.”

Great.

This assignment keeps getting better and better.

Alex glared at his boss, who’d agreed to lend him out to the mayor’s office to help with an undisclosed IT problem. It made no sense to Alex. The mayor probably had an IT team bigger than the entire PGHM at his disposal.

Why can’t he just ask one of them for help?

Beau met his gaze evenly. “Focus on whatever the mayor needs, Alex. Please. I don’t need any complaints from the colonel this week.”

“You don’t know what it’s about?” Damien asked.

Alex sighed and ran a hand through his thick, reddish-blond hair. “This Legrand woman didn’t say much. Just that I should meet them at the restaurant. I assume they’ll explain then. Whatever it is, I hope it’s quick.”

Alex loved his job with thePeloton de Gendarmerie de Haute Montagne. It combined the two things he loved most in life: time outdoors and computers.

From the time he was a little boy, Alex had always loved things that beeped and buzzed. Time and time again, people had used the wordgeniusto refer to him, but Alex knew he wasn’t a genius. He just happened to understand the way most things worked.

When the time had come to go to university, he’d chosen to study Computer Science at Edinburgh University, but he’d already known he wouldn’t be very good in an office. Nine to five wasn’t for him. He loved skiing, extreme sports, and time spent outdoors too much.

He’d come to France straight after university. The plan had been to spend a year skiing and snowboarding before deciding what to do with the rest of his life.

And then one day he’d witnessed a PGHM-led rescue, a single moment that had changed everything for him. He’d known immediately that was what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. That had been nine years earlier. It’d taken him three years to complete the physical and academic trainings, and even then he hadn’t been sure the PGHM would find space for a British IT specialist who didn't speak French particularly well.

But he'd been lucky, and persistent.

Eventually, he'd interviewed with two team leaders in different regions of France. The first one, in Alsace, had been openly hostile and had ended the interview early, saying he couldn’t be sure Alex wouldn’t get tired and head back into IT. The second interview, however, had been with Beau Fontaine, back then a newly appointed commander of the Annecy team. The big, gruff man had accepted Alex into his team with no reservations.

Yeah. Luck had definitely been one of the recurring themes in Alex’s life. He had a lot to be grateful for.

Now, at age thirty-two, Alex was exactly where he wanted to be. Or at least, he had been, until this stupid assignment had come his way. For once, he regretted his ease with computers.

“We’re going to miss you, man,” Ry said, miming goodbye.

“Smart-ass. You do remember we live together, right? I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you then,” Ry said, smiling widely. “And good luck!”

2

* * *

Yvette

Yvette Legrand straightened the neck of her black turtle-neck and looked at herself in the bathroom mirror.

The purple color of her suit brought out the bronze in her skin and contrasted beautifully with her dark, curly hair, which today she’d pulled up into a high ponytail. The tailored suit was a power outfit—the kind that was designed to make space for the wearer. Yvette wore it proudly.

Most of the clothes in Yvette’s extensive wardrobe were like that—clothes that showcased her strength, making her feel like the confident professional she was. She had suits in almost every color, to match her mood, the day’s agenda, and, sometimes, her boss’s tie color.

Her clothes weren’t what made her an excellent chief of staff to Chamonix’s mayor, but they were an important part of her image. They told everyone she met that she meant business. Which she did.

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