Page 40 of Valor on the Move
When he’d finished a visual sweep, Shane brought his attention back to Rafa. It looked as if he’d gotten a haircut, although it was hard to tell for sure with it slicked down. In his usual preppy uniform, Rafa laughed at something his sister said to him. Shane was glad to see him smiling, even if he knew he shouldn’t give a damn one way or the other. Even if he knew Rafa probably wasn’t truly happy, and wouldn’t be until he could come out.
In the past two weeks, things had mostly gone back to normal. Mostly. It had all been very polite and proper. He and Alan trailed Rafa to foundation meetings, and otherwise Rafa had stayed upstairs in the residence. Shane filed his reports and checked in with Harris and Nguyen, and the brass at HQ. It was all by the book. No more going upstairs to sample Rafa’s latest creations. No more bowling matches. Everything was the way it was supposed to be.
So why was he so goddamned miserable?
Marine One hovered over the South Lawn, the wind kicking up and blowing skirts and hair. The noise was deafening. The other two helicopters circled the area, and the snipers reported in ready as Marine One landed safely. The rotors slowed as the stairs were lowered and President Castillo appeared, smiling and waving as the photographers leaped into action.
Ramon Castillo—codename Vagabond—greeted his family with kisses and hugs, and as he embraced Rafa, Shane found himself wondering what the man would say when he found out his son was gay. He’d supported that bullshit anti-gay bill dressed up as a marriage issue, and had always been conservative even for a Republican. As an agent, Shane tried not to think too much about it. His job was to protect, no matter who it was and what they stood for. The Secret Service didn’t play political favorites, probably making it the only agency in DC that didn’t.
As the first family reentered the White House, Shane, Alan, and the other agents followed, now joined by part of Vagabond’s detail. The family had brunch waiting for them in the dining room, and Shane and the others stopped in the corridor, taking up their positions. It wasn’t effective to clump together, so they spread out, trying to blend into the background unobtrusively. Alan nodded to Shane from across the wide hallway.
Chang, one of the guys on PPD, told Shane about the trip back from Europe, which had been delayed by the eastern storm. “I haven’t slept in forty-eight hours. So ready for my bed.”
“I can imagine. Did you do the advance over there?”
Chang grimaced. “Yep. The Russians sure as hell didn’t make it easy. They know our protocols, and I swear they go out of their way to fuck with them.” He rubbed a hand over his lined face. He was about fifty, with an enviably thick head of black hair. “And of course Vagabond decided on a last-minute excursion to shake hands and kiss babies. Hopped out in the middle of a crowd in Austria for an OTR after the peace signing with the Chechens.”
Shane shook his head. Off the record stops were incredibly dangerous—not to mention stressful as hell for the protective detail—but the president didn’t seem to care. “Sometimes it’s like they want to get nailed.”
“Yep. Too bad Venus wasn’t there. She would have had his ass back in the limo pronto. But no, he was taking selfies as the crowd got bigger and bigger. There was a man in a trench coat getting near, and there was no room to even frisk him.”
“Did you lock him down?” Shane had done it in crowds himself—thrown his arms around a suspect, pinning their arms to their sides to keep them immobile.
“Yep. Smelled like beer and fish. Turns out he didn’t have a weapon; guess he was just expecting rain later. How’s it going for you and Pearce with Valor?”
“Good. No complaints.” That was true, at least. Shane thought of the lie detector test he’d had to take in the service application process. He wondered how hard he’d fail it now if they asked him questions about Rafa.
“You lucked out with that one. The mouse, right? He’s easy.”
Shane stretched his neck. “Uh-huh.” It felt strangely disloyal to talk about Rafa.
“He’ll probably end up arrested with blow and hookers one day. Wound too tight, that one.”
Shane bit back the flare of annoyance. “I dunno. Think he’ll turn out just fine.”
“Yeah, I guess the hookers and blow is our department.” Chang smirked. “At least that’s what people love to think. One of my wife’s friends asked me at our last dinner party how often we have wild parties expensed to the government.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice?” Shane shook his head. “Did you explain that it’s only happened a handful of times in decades and it’s been more than ten years now?”
