Page 69 of Power Surge

I can.

I will.

I will not fail.

Chapter Nineteen

Trey

March

The seat jostles with my sinking weight, shaking the short row and waking the sleeping giant I've plopped beside. Peeking one eye open, Tank inserts as much annoyance as possible into his side glare.

“What's on your mind now, Benson?” Tank mumbles, the vibrations from his deep voice making their way to the back of my seat. He shuffles, sinking lower for a more comfortable position to finish his nap. The seats on Air Force One are as comfortable as any I’ve ever sat my rich ass in, but it’s still an airplane seat; real comfort only goes so far.

“There are holes in the plan.” My foot bobs at a rapid pace, Tank tracking the up-and-down movement. “I don't like it.”

Glancing across the aisle, I meet Smith’s gaze. With a dip of my chin in acknowledgment, I shift my attention back to Tank, who's now clearly given up on sleep. Stretching both hands high above his head, he practically scrapes the ceiling of the plane even in a sitting position.

“What exactly don't you like about it?” Joints snap and pop along his spine as he twists one way and then the other.

“There are holes—”

“Which is why we have a plan B and a plan C.”

I shake my head and run a hand through my recently trimmed hair. “Yeah, I know we do, but I still don't like it. There are too many opportunities for an attack. We're too exposed.”

Tank groans as he pitches forward to rest both elbows on his tree trunk thighs.

“You're thinking like a boyfriend again,” he admonishes. “We've been over this, Benson. Too many damn times over the past several months. The plan is solid. The security impenetrable. What you really want is her in a damn bubble, a bullet- and bomb-proof bubble.”

“Or the popemobile,” I mumble. “I knew I should've hijacked that little car while we were in Italy last month.”

“Didn't you say that about the royal guards too during our visit with the queen of England in December?”

Ignoring his comment, I adjust in the seat, angling my upper body toward him.

“You know this trip isn’t comparable to any of those. Egypt is unstable, and I don't need to remind you that the United States isn't on their top ten list of allies right now.” Worry eats at my gut, making me push harder on my best friend than I normally would. I trust his plans, trust his decisions, but something feels off about this trip.

Sources say the Egyptian president is under the impression that the US is behind all the unrest still plaguing the Middle East. They're not wrong—not that we’ll tell them that—but none of this is Randi's doing. The outbreaks of attacks have spiked since we first visited the area last year, making those of us in the know wonder if whoever's in charge of the entire operation knows we're attempting to keep the peace until we can identify the key players.

Then there’s the Russian president’s advice, which Randi is still not open to taking. I’ve tried reasoning with her these past few months, but she doesn’t want to involve anyone who doesn’t already know. Which means no military action against those insurgents on the ground causing the small-scale attacks.

Tank nods, his gaze searching the blue and gold carpet. “Okay, Benson, okay. Tell me where you see the weakest point.”

The eerie sensation of being watched has me searching the surrounding area. Smith leans forward, completely absorbed in my conversation with Tank. Around us, the other alpha team members and a few beta team agents are either playing on their phones or are asleep like Tank was before I disturbed him.

“Where it always is,” I say on a sigh. Some days I feel like a broken record, but our weakest point is always the same. The cushioned seat forms around my tender back muscles, sore from yet another intense rowing workout yesterday morning. The soft material of my Armani slacks bunches beneath my massaging fingers, attempting to ease some of the tightness gathered there.

“To and from the Beast,” Tank replies.

“Exactly. Once she's in the limo, she’s protected until she gets out again. Those few minutes out in the open, anything can happen.”

“Agreed, but she has to get out of the limo at some point. We can’t ask for all meetings to be held inside the Beast.” Tank rubs a hand over his head and heaves a heavy sigh. “I can double the snipers at the airport and at the first stop. The embassy there in Cairo has the three dotted along rooflines for the arrival as planned.” He scans the few beta team agents. “I’ll talk to their team lead and ask them to offer double protection from the plane to the Beast.”

“I like that.” I grimace as I prod at a particular sore spot just above my knee.

“You pushed it too hard yesterday,” Tank says in an “I told you so” tone.

---