The Last Protector(Clayton White #1)(9)

White leaned against the railings next to Marcus and took in the elite crowd gathered in the ballroom. He felt like a king overseeing his subjects. The floor was varnished wood, and magnificent crystal chandeliers lit the space with a fairy-tale glow. White scanned the tables, each adorned with a spotless white-linen tablecloth, each with eight to ten people sitting around its edges, all beaming at each other. These people were the best and brightest in their field. They were the true superstars of the archaeology world, but only a minuscule percentage of the American public would ever recognize their names or appreciate their accomplishments. Their faces, with the exception of that of White’s protectee, would never be seen on the covers of gossip magazines, but their names were celebrated in certain scientific circles.

Despite the seemingly jovial ambiance, White wished he had more Secret Service special agents at his disposable. As the special agent in charge of Veronica Hammond’s protective detail, White had the power to order more agents to San Francisco. But Veronica had been adamant. She wanted to keep a low profile. He had, of course, insisted, enumerating the reasons having more than six agents on the trip wasn’t a luxury, but she had threatened to refuse Secret Service protection entirely if he pushed any further. Veronica, the only daughter of Vice President-Elect Alexander Hammond, had that privilege. And, as White had learned a long time ago, Veronica didn’t bluff. So he’d backed down. It was better to have a six-man team than no team at all.

“I’ll go see if she’s ready,” White said to Marcus. “I’ll send someone to relieve you so you can grab a quick bite before this thing starts.”

“You think she’ll win?” Marcus asked, looking at White for the first time.

“I don’t know, but she certainly deserves to,” he said before heading back to the staircase and starting down.

Four months ago, Veronica, an archaeologist specializing in aerial archaeology, whose work concentrated on observing some of the earliest traces of human activity from the air, had released a beta version of Drain, a mobile application she had developed in collaboration with SkyCU Technology, a Silicon Valley start-up. Drain enabled the public to check high-resolution satellite imagery for signs of looting or previously undiscovered archaeological remains—the satellites could even see through one hundred feet of water. Hence the app’s name: long-hidden sites became as visible as if the area had been drained of water.

Since its launch, more than seventy-five thousand users from twenty-one countries had flagged some five hundred new sites, including two underwater Aboriginal sites off the Australian coast. Those two sites, the first confirmed underwater archaeological sites found on the Australian continental shelf, had raised so much enthusiasm among the archaeological community that Veronica had decided to lead the expedition herself. Thanks to her hard work and her immense popularity on social media, she’d had no trouble securing the necessary funds. A news crew from a specialty TV channel had even embedded itself in Veronica’s team to cover her first dive in Australian waters. They hadn’t been disappointed. Within hours, the first of more than two hundred artifacts had been discovered, some of them dating back seven thousand years.

Invigorated by the initial results, Veronica had recently announced on social media that she and SkyCU Technology were working on an important update that would permit Drain users to see through water ten times deeper. Not only would that have a profound impact on ocean observation, but the application could potentially help inform the response to climate change. Veronica was now considering all her options, including partnering with one of the giant tech companies who had approached her and SkyCU about acquiring the app. She had a meeting with the eight employees of SkyCU tomorrow afternoon in Palo Alto to discuss Drain’s exciting future.

At tonight’s gala, the Society of American Archaeology would announce the winner of the Award for Excellence in Archaeological Analysis. Veronica was one of the nominees, and, if White was to believe all the gossip, she was the top contender. He wasn’t surprised. Thanks to the millennials who represented over three-quarters of Veronica’s followers and who never did anything without their smartphones, suddenly archaeology was cool again. The nomination was a way to acknowledge Veronica for her unique contribution to the field.

And White couldn’t be prouder.

He and Veronica had been friends since their teenage years. When the helicopter his father was traveling in was shot down by enemy fire six years prior, Veronica had flown to Landstuhl, Germany, where White was recuperating from injuries sustained during a rescue operation. He’d asked for and received emergency leave from his unit and, with Veronica, had traveled back to the United States to help his mother plan the funeral. Veronica’s assistance had been godsent, and, even though nothing remotely romantic had happened between them, those precious weeks spent with her were when White had started seeing her as more than just a friend. Three months later, after completing his tour of duty in Iraq and leaving the military, he’d moved into an apartment a few minutes’ walk from her residence in the heart of Westville, a lovely neighborhood in New Haven, Connecticut. From that point on, the dynamic of their relationship had quickly shifted from “just friends” to something much deeper—if still not official.

“XJD-31, this is Vigil-One, over,” White said into the microphone in his sleeve.

A steady voice came through his earbud. “Go ahead for XJD-31.”