Page 13 of Bishop's Queen

CHAPTER FIVE

“A reality TV star?” Bishop tossed the closed folder onto the briefing table. This was hazing. It had to be. “She needs a bodyguard? That’s what you’re saying?”

“The woman has a stalker.” Jared nodded. “Simple enough. You won’t get yourself killed on the first week of work, which makes my life easier.” The bulldog perched on Bishop’s new boss’s boot groaned as she rolled over, signaling that even she was in on the big joke.

He picked up the folder again, flipping past the first page of magazine highlights from red carpets, TV shows, and website screenshots. They all looked about the same—fancy dresses and paparazzi. One picture caught his eye. A sun-kissed brunette, barely looking over her shoulder, was in an evening gown on a red carpet. Earthy eye makeup and cascades of wavy hair almost obscured her face. But it was less her face he noticed and more the contrast of that sexy-ass dress. Dark sleeves covered every inch of her shoulders and arms, but it plunged down her back, almost to her ass. That dress was a distraction—in the most sinful of ways. That was his first clue that this job was BS.

“Protective detail for celebs?” He flipped to the next page. “Lots of people know who she is, huh? I don’t.”

“You and Jared,” Rocco added. “That would make sense for you, given that you’ve been ass-deep in the Hindu Kush mountains, smoking out ISIS for the last few years.” He shook his head. “This guy? No excuse.”

Talk about a brutal job that few wanted.Bishop had had no connection to the world. He and a select band of special forces had used everything from armored vehicles to horses and donkeys to crawl through the nooks and crannies of those Afghani mountains. They’d trudged through the snowcaps of Kunar Province only to find themselves passing intel in the valleys of Bala Murghab months later. Truth was, he missed it, and going from that tothishad to be a joke.

Jared’s brows furrowed. “Little early in your career here to start questioning the assignments and clients, isn’t it?”

Bishop opened the folder and skimmed her bio. Blogger.What does a blogger do?Reality TV star. Environmentalist. They were fucking with him. “For a woman who protectstrees?”

Rocco leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “No, bro. She doesn’t protecttrees. The lady specializes in air and baby turtle eggs if that makes a difference to you.”

He snorted. “Oh, good.Air.”

“She’s prime-time powerful, and she’s ours to keep alive.”

Jared broke in. “Basically, she riles up most everyone with an iPhone and a Smart Car—which there are a lot of—and she has someone lobbing threats at her.”

Bishop grumbled. How dangerous was the Smart Car crowd?

Rocco’s forehead furrowed. “You’re two seconds from losing a job that most men would cut their nuts off to have.”

Bishop turned back to the page with the sexy dress but didn’t want to eyeball it in front of his new bosses. Something about the woman struck him as familiar. He turned back to her details. She was local to the area. Great, so was he. They were about the same age, so he wasn’t dealing with a teeny bopper.

Blah, blah, beaches.

Blah, blah, blah, videos.

The woman was anti-everything dangerous, yet she earned a living raising hell online. She was pro-everything nice, safe, and sane, yet somehow, she had people wanting to kill her. Well, that seemed a contradiction. He turned the page to read more of her background.

“FBI has assigned an agent. Just keep her alive,” Rocco said.

Bishop glanced at Jared and Rocco. “Anything on the threats I should keep her from?”

“The way this woman collects enemies?” Jared whistled. “Anyone high profile will have their share of whackos. But a specific escalation began a few weeks ago.”

Rocco pointed to the folder. “Flip all the way back, last pages.”

Bishop turned to the photocopies of letters, and damn, they were legitimately freaky. “Just to screw with her?”

Jared shrugged. “We’re not investigating. Motive is the feds’ problem.”

Rocco pushed back in the rolling chair. “Parker had a new surveillance system installed at her place already, and she’s met Locke. He’ll be your relief, but you’re the primary.”

“Got it. I didn’t know Titan did celebs.”

“Sit tight until I make sure she’s settled. Then you can head to the war room.” Jared stood. “Read up on her file. All that activist, famous-person-for-her-cause stuff is important. Time to immerse yourself in the online world of Eco-Ella. The girl’s a blogging champ.”

A person could be a blogging champion? He still wasn’t sure how blogging could be a career, or what made reality stars into celebrities, much less one that was at this apparent level.

Jared laughed. “Bishop’s going to be posting videos and going live before we know it.”

“Hashtag trucks and tree huggers,” Rocco said.

Jared smirked. “Hashtag Titan does TV.”

“What are you guys talking about?” They didn’t have this shit up in the mountains. He hadn’t even had a cell phone for years. That was the way he liked it.

They laughed as the heavy door shut, closing him in a room that was as dangerous as it was a safety cocoon. Social media and an environment-loving Internet sensation? Okay, not a problem. It wasn’t as though they had to have a conversation. But his eyelids hung heavy as he stared at the file folder in front of him.Damn it…

This wasn’t what Bishop had signed up for. Where were the grenade launchers and attack choppers? Pure, one-hundred-percent boredom mixed with a solid dose of he-didn’t-get-it loomed ahead.

Operational assessment: not good.

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