Cajun Justice(10)

“What do you mean? What are you thinking?”

“Well, for starters, did she ever tell you what she did for a living?”

“Nah. I just thought she was a local who wanted to party with someone on the president’s security detail. Relax, bro. We did nothing wrong. We’ll be fine.”

Cain became angrier. “We did nothing wrong? We?”

“Yeah, we did nothing wrong.”

“If we did nothing wrong, then why am I leaving before this mission is complete?” Cain continued, raising his voice. “Hell, the whole team has told you over and over to maintain a low profile. Don’t draw so much attention to the Service. You know we operate in the background, but you always find a way to put us in the spotlight.”

“You like to operate in the background. You don’t mind being a shadow.” Tom puffed out his chest and pointed to it with both index fingers. “But I’m different. I’m in the show, baby. As you like to quote, ‘To thine own self be true.’ I’m just being true to myself.”

“And to your wife and kids back home? Are you being true to them?”

“Don’t go there, bro! I love my family and provide for all their needs. They have a roof over their head and food on the table. I take care of my family.”

“What about your family here? Your Secret Service family?”

Before Tom could answer, their attention was drawn to the bar’s entrance. Three other Secret Service agents stumbled into the pub. It was apparent that this was not their first stop of the evening. Upon seeing Cain and Tom, one of them pointed and shouted in a slurred voice, “It’s the other members of the Dirty Dozen.”

With his large arm, Tom motioned for them to come toward the back. “Welcome, men!”

“Don’t call ’em over here,” Cain urged. “We still have business to discuss.”

“Plenty of time for that. We got a long flight tomorrow.” Tom turned his attention to his colleagues who had just poured in. “I was just about to challenge Cain to a game of darts. Right, Cain?”

“I’m not playing darts with you,” he said flatly. He then looked straight into Tom’s eyes. “This conversation ain’t over.”

The five agents gathered around a dartboard, but Cain didn’t play. He was too ticked off to enjoy the pastime. The other agents tossed darts and continued discussing the injustices of being recalled from their mission.

“Recalled?” Cain said. “That’s a nice way of saying kicked out, or booted.”

One of the agents was an old-timer nearing retirement. “I’m divorced, thanks to the Service. They can’t do squat to me. And they’re seriously mistaken if they think my enjoying the warmth of a lady is going to stop my retirement.”

A sudden bright flash lit up the dim and smoky establishment. Cain turned toward the cause: a woman clutching a professional-looking camera with an expensive zoom lens.

“Get that bitch!” one of the agents shouted.

Tom bolted from the dartboard and rushed toward the woman as she tried to exit the bar, grabbing her sleeve and preventing her escape.

“Soy reportera para El Tiempo,” the startled camerawoman shouted. “Dejame ir.”

“Give me that camera!” Tom demanded.

Mac intervened, placing himself between Tom and the frightened woman. “It’s okay. She’s just a local reporter.”

“No, it’s not okay,” Cain said, having rushed toward the altercation. “Jackson’s right. She’s got a picture of us drinking in a bar. We want that film.”

“Or she’ll have trouble sitting down when I shove that camera up her ass!” Tom said.

“Knock that shit off!” Mac said, siding with the reporter. “She’s welcome in here just like you fellas. And if you blokes don’t calm down, I’m going to ring the police. This is my bar!”

Tom gripped the camera and yanked it out of the reporter’s hands.

“Dame la cámara!” the reporter yelled.

“Fuck you!” Tom shouted back.

With one quick movement, Mac struck Tom’s throat with an open palm. Tom fell backward and dropped the camera. It crashed onto the floor and smashed into several pieces.

The other agents rushed to Tom’s aid as he gasped for air. They were about to fight Mac when Cain shielded the bar owner and pulled him aside. “Naval intelligence my ass! That strike looked more like a technique taught to the British SAS.”

The camerawoman quickly recovered her broken camera and fled. The inebriated agents attempted to chase her, but gave up after a few seconds because she was too quick.

“I understand this is your business,” Cain said, “but please understand our concern. We’re United States Secret Service agents. We don’t need this reporter posting our photos all over the place. You know what I mean—OPSEC. We try to fly under the radar. The word secret is in our name.”

“Really?” Mac belly-laughed. “If you boys are trying to stay secret, you’ve done a bang-up job since you arrived in this country. Besides, it’s just one photo. What can it hurt?”





Chapter 10



The agents returned to the hotel that morning with just enough time to pack their bags, check out, and catch their ride to the airport. They used their diplomatic passports and a courier bag to bring their weapons on board.