Page 14 of Legacy's Destiny

He glanced at his watch. “Yeah.” He lifted his coffee and took a drink. “My comms are in my room. We'll hook up with Click and management as soon as I have the mission brief.”

“Copy, we’ll do another sweep of the apartment,” Ranger added. They all knew the needs of operational security.

“Roger that.” Deacon downed the last of his coffee. “I’ll be back.”

Returning to his room, he brushed his teeth and grabbed his wallet and keycard. It took three minutes to make it to the main floor and another two to find the conference room they’d use. It wasn’t difficult. Two black-suited men stood outside.

“Deacon Alexander,” he said by way of introduction when he arrived at the door and showed his Guardian credentials in his wallet.

“I need to search you, sir,” one of the suits said.

“I have no doubt.” He knew how the CIA worked. He handed the man his wallet and lifted his arms. An electronic sweep followed the pat down. His wallet was searched and swept before it was given back to him. His watch and cell phone stayed outside the room with the guards.

Deacon opened the door and walked in. “Deacon?” The older gentleman at the head of the table stood.

“Yes, sir.” He moved to the head of the table and offered his hand.

“I’m Supervisory Officer Tim Flanagan. We’re waiting for the asset you’ll take on this mission.”

That wasn’t unusual. For the most part, the CIA used Guardian as a protective detail for their assets so they could slip into an area or slip out. Guardian Security was the only federally recognized, privately-owned security company in the world. They performed missions and duties federalorganizations couldn’t touch due to red tape and tied hands. Guardian protected those who couldn’t protect themselves and had numerous arms to do so, with domestic teams like Deacon’s and black ops assassins who went after the worst of the monsters the world needed eliminated. No, they didn’t have the same constraints, and they weren’t federally funded. They had the best of everything because the owner of the company mandated it. Of course, the owner was his father, but no one knew that. It was information that was tightly safe guarded at the highest level, and that was for everyone’s safety.

Deacon lifted an eyebrow and asked, “Where are we going?”

“We can get into that when our specialist arrives.” Officer Flanagan pointed to the coffee carafe. “Would you like a cup?”

“Thank you.” After accepting a cup, he sat down beside Flanagan.

“I know Jason King well. He’s a font of integrity.”

“I agree.” Deacon nodded. Jason was the true leader of Guardian Security now that his father had officially retired for the last time.

“I remember when Gabriel was running the organization back in the day. He was an intense man. Did you ever meet him?” The officer took a sip of his coffee.

Deacon smiled. Yeah, he’d met his dad a time or two. “I have.”

“Then you’ve met one in a million. His drive and determination laid the foundation for that company. I had a friend who joined him back when the organization was young. Frank Marshall. I lost track of him, but that man was another intense guy. He was a country hick but had a great future with Guardian. I’ve never seen such loyalty to an organization.”

Uncle Frank was country through and through. Deacon smiled and shrugged. “It isn’t loyalty to an organization, exactly. It’s loyalty to the people in the organization. I’ve never metanyone in Guardian I wouldn’t lay my life down for or the other way around if needed. Integrity.”

“See, that’s what people don’t understand. Integrity is a concept that’s hard to teach,” Flanagan said before glancing at his watch. “Not like our specialist to be late.”

“Traffic sucks in the city, and it’s rush hour.” Deacon wasn’t too impressed with the asset if they couldn’t be on time.

The officer made some noise of agreement, but his words were interrupted by a knock on the door. “Enter,” he barked.

Deacon blinked and did a double-take when the specialist entered. Then he stood and smiled.

Echo walked through the door. Her hair was wound in a tight bun at the back of her head. Her black slacks and crisp white shirt under a black blazer didn’t hug her figure today. She looked positively matronly, but he’d seen what was under the oversized clothes.

Echo stopped and blinked, looking at him. Her surprise was clearly displayed. The officer looked between them. “Do you two know each other?”

“We do,” Deacon said. “We met at a restaurant last night. She had an issue with the bartender not understanding her. Good to see you again.”

Echo took his hand, and the spark between them hadn’t lessened. She smiled. “And you. Small city, isn’t it?”

“It would seem.”

“This seems rather redundant, but Echo Lashay, this is Deacon Alexander, the lead for the team that will escort you in and out of Laos.”

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