“Barry, this is Albert. Radio check, over,” Van Heerden said, pressing down on the transmit button of his handheld radio. Smoking two packs a day for years had made his voice hard and raspy.
“In position and ready to proceed,” came the reply.
Van Heerden repeated the process with each man. Satisfied the comms were good and that all his men were ready, Van Heerden gave the order to execute. In his mind’s eye, he saw his men move into position, each taking down their assigned target.
As for his man assigned to the Secret Service special agent positioned in the lobby, Van Heerden had instructed him to only neutralize the agent if it became absolutely necessary, due to the high volume of people gathered there. The man assigned to keep an eye on the agent was to contact Van Heerden directly if he noticed any changes in the agent’s demeanor.
Although they had practiced the entire operation numerous times at their training compound in Johannesburg, Van Heerden was anxious. The American Secret Service was good at what they did. It was one thing to drill two holes in a paper target’s forehead in a controlled environment; it was an entirely different ball game to pull off a covert operation deep in enemy territory. But Van Heerden had a powerful ally in his camp. Surprise.
CHAPTER NINE
The Ritz-Carlton
San Francisco, California
Clayton White, still slightly out of breath, ran his hand through Veronica’s hair, relishing the silken sensation against his palm. Not for the first time, he realized he just couldn’t get enough of her. Veronica Hammond made him smile. She made him happy. She made him whole. And by the way she looked at him when they made love, he bet she felt the same way he did. He’d know soon enough if it was indeed the case.
“We’re playing with fire,” Veronica said, her voice barely rising above a whisper.
White searched for her face, but it was buried in his side, her lashes tingling his rib cage. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“Your career. Aren’t you worried about it? At least a little?”
It would be a lie to say he wasn’t a tiny bit concerned about the situation. He loved his job. But if forced to make a choice between the Secret Service and Veronica, the decision would be easy. Men with skill sets like his were in high demand. Finding another position with a federal law enforcement agency wouldn’t be much of a challenge, and even if that failed, he had a feeling that the private sector would welcome him with open arms.
“What about you?” White asked. “Where do you see this going?”
“In the shower,” she said, laughing. “Care to join me?”
“I’m serious,” White insisted.
“So am I,” Veronica replied, rolling out of bed. “Your loss.”
White sighed as he watched her walk naked to the bathroom. She glanced back at him, her green eyes sparkling, daring him to make the next move. It took all his willpower not to follow her into the shower. Instead of doing the easy thing and joining Veronica, White arched his spine and stretched his arm toward the bedside table where he had left his cell phone. There was no voicemail.
White had an important decision to make. He checked his phone again. Thirty minutes left before Veronica had to go down to the awards ceremony.
Plenty of time, he thought. He eased out of bed, grabbed one of the plush hotel bathrobes, and wrapped it around himself. He quietly opened the connecting doors linking his suite to hers and slipped into his identical hotel room. He headed toward the closet where, tucked away at the bottom, the room’s safe was hidden. He turned on a table lamp near the closet and entered his six-digit code into the keypad.
There followed the whirl of the locking mechanism, and the safe opened. There were only three items inside: an ankle holster, a snub-nose revolver, and a small blue satin box.
Veronica turned off the shower and grabbed one of the white fluffy towels from the nearby heating rack. She really thought Clay would have joined her in the shower. Maybe they could reconnect after the awards banquet? The possibility made her smile. She dried herself quickly and then wrapped the towel around her head turban-style. Her skin tingled as her mind played back the last hour. Their friendship had turned into a secret love affair. That wasn’t something she had seen coming, or necessarily wanted. Or needed. But damn if it didn’t feel good.
Her brain, though, didn’t necessarily agree with her heart. She had her career. He had his. But here they were, both taking risks as if they were love-starved fools. Admittedly, he had much more to lose than she did. If word of their relationship got out, he would not only be in trouble; it would also give a black eye to the entire Secret Service. And it wouldn’t reflect well on her dad either. So why risk it all?