Page 81 of Power Switch

No matter the cost.

The roaring of a revving engine snaps my thoughts back to the potential danger we're about to be surrounded with. In my earpiece one of the guys lets us know three black SUVs are approaching via the only road with access to this area. Seconds later, the three Suburbans appear over the crest of the hill the park is situated on. One after another they park. Several large fuckers step out of the SUVs wearing…

“What the hell?” I whisper at the same time Tank's shocked chuckle rumbles through the picnic area.

“Don't you dare make fun of them,” Randi says, though a lightness to her tone signals she's holding back her own laughter. “I think it’s cute.”

I shoot her a quick glare.

“Don’t get your holster in a twist. They’re not nearly as cute as you, Trouble.”

Satisfied by her response, I swing my attention back to the eight men all wearing stiff khaki shorts and varying bright Hawaiian shirts. I cringe at the bright glare bouncing off their white legs that somehow cuts through my state-of-the-art sunglasses.

Dressed in his own horrible ensemble, Vlad strides toward Randi, no smile on his harsh features. The bright and loud outfits are a complete contrast to the men wearing them. There are too many quips I could make about… well, everything encompassing the approaching men's attire, but I somehow manage to keep them to myself.

“Madam VP,” Vlad says as soon as he's close.

“It’s Randi, Vlad. You know that. This is our second secret meeting after all. I think we can drop the formalities.”

He dips his chin before saying a few words in Russian that disperses his men to various points around the small picnic area. Tank and I tense, muscles at the ready for anything, as Vlad climbs up the picnic table and sits beside Randi.

“Festive outfit,” she says, biting into her lower lip to hold back her smile.

Vlad tips his head back and laughs. “We wanted to blend in during our time on the island. But we might have taken it to the extreme. ”

Randi nods, still trying not to smile. “Maybe just a little. How long are you here for?”

He shrugs, the large floral print seeming to reflect the sun's rays. “Not sure. When you reached out to schedule this meetup, I had my team book the arrival flight but leave the return one open-ended. I needed the break.”

“Same,” she says with a sigh. Leaning back on her palms, she keeps her focus straight forward. “Thanks for coming, Vlad. I’m in a pickle.”

“In a pickle?”

She smiles. “It’s a figure of speech. It means I’m in a bind, or in a touchy spot.”

“Ah. And anytime, all you have to do is ask.” He pauses. “Your call came at an interesting time, I have to admit. Did you know another person from your office requested a meeting as well for after the new year?”

Randi's smile falls, her eyes narrowing on the man beside her. She looks so tiny beside him; all it would take is one move and he’d crush her.

“The president, I’m assuming.”

Vlad shakes his head. Placing his hands back along the stone surface next to hers, he leans back, mirroring her. Tank monitors the movement of his hands as I watch his face, trying to decipher his next move.

“No, your secretary of state.”

Shock morphs across her features. “Todd.” The scrunch of her nose as she says the name tells Vlad exactly how she feels about the man.

Vlad nods. “Says he wants to meet but has not disclosed as to why. I am not getting the impression his intent is honorable, however.”

Randi snorts, causing Vlad's bushy eyebrows to rise a fraction.

“He's an opportunist, I guess.” Randi scans the park like the bushes and trees hold the answer she's searching for. “He knows about our meeting in Chile somehow. Maybe he's trying to capitalize on our… whatever we are to use to his advantage.” Leaning forward, she braces her elbows on her still bouncing knees. “It would be huge in the Americans’ eyes if he claimed to settle the rocky relations between our two countries.”

“Agreed.”

Tense silence passes between the two leaders.

“I am assuming you need the proof I offered at our last meeting.”

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