Page 1 of Guarding the Singer

THE PAST

PART I

Walking up to the security checkpoint at the White House was a new thing for William Winchester. Maybe not the last if he did his job right.

Whatever that was.

The line ahead of him moved up and he followed. Listening to the repeated conversations up ahead. Enough, so when he stepped up, he was able to anticipate and answer quickly.

"Name?"

"William Winchester."

The guard looked at the list in front of him and nodded. The guard seated beside him handed him a lanyard with a pass clipped to it. "Step inside and you'll see a woman with a clipboard looking like she'srethinking her choices in life. She'll get you set up. Next."

William hesitated and gave the guard a look. "A name?"

"I gave a pretty apt description, but if you need a name, see Claudia Schiffrin."

William nodded. "Thank you."

With the lanyard draped around his neck, he stepped inside the White House and took a moment to scan the room. It might just be a lobby or some kind of foyer, but there was a sense of history that he could feel coming from the very walls around him.

And there was an excitement in the air... anticipation.

A passing staffer nearly ran into him and veered off at the last possible moment with a soft gasp of apology.

William laughed silently, adding panic to his description of the atmosphere.

"Excuse me?"

He turned and settled his expression.

The woman who walked up to him had an air of authority. As a Marine, he reacted to that. "Yes, Ma'am?"

"I'm Claudia Schiffrin, the conductor on this circus train."

She dipped her gaze to the pass he wore around his neck. "Name?"

"Master Sergeant William Winchester."

There was a touch of a smile on her lips. "You're early."

He dipped his chin. "My gramma always said, ‘on time is late.’"

The answer seemed to surprise her. She sighed. "I could've used your grandmother today." She looked down at her clipboard and peeled off a sheet. Here, this is the schedule."

He took the paper and quickly looked over the schedule while Claudia looked through her pile of papers.

"Were you told what your assignment would be?”

He shook his head, raising his gaze over the edge of his paper schedule. "No, ma'am."

She smiled. "Are you a fan of pop music?"

He couldn't stop the grimace that pulled on his mouth. "I'm... not much of a music fan."

Her expression turned to one of mild humor. "Diplomatic answer. That will serve you well in the future if you can keep hold of your expressions."

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