Chapter 6
553 Words
Chapter 6
Frank: Now
Then she left it up to me whether or not I showed up the next day to start filling out the paperwork.”
The President smiled. “But you’re the one heading up my Protection Detail.”
“Yeah,” Frank returned the smile. He’d gotten the assignment when Peter Matthews announced he was running. They didn’t start guarding the candidates that soon, but they started studying and planning and he’d pulled the duty detail on that. By the time the D.C. native became a Presidential contender, Frank was on him. When he was elected, President-elect Matthews had asked to have him stay on.
“Yeah, heading your detail... Kinda pisses her off.” He grinned. When they were alone, he knew the casual helped the President relax, as if he were with a friend rather than his bodyguard. But now they were rolling up the semi-circular drive in front of the main building of the U.N. He threw the mental switch… back into agent mode.
A voice in his ear reminded him, “Entering Turtle Bay.” Turtle Bay, which probably hadn’t seen a turtle since it was named back in the 17th century, was the Manhattan neighborhood that included the United Nations Headquarters and often referred to just the U.N. section of it.
“You’re a brave man, Frank Adams.” The President didn’t even glance out at the phalanx of agents ensuring the front entrance was secure for their arrival. “I don’t think that Agent Beatrice Ann Belfour is someone I’d want to ‘piss off’ even a little bit.”
“Well, I’ll admit, she has her more dangerous moments. The woman knows no fear.”
“Nor do you,” the President checked his tie and jacket. Today it was a sharp gray with a garish red-and-white Washington Nationals tie. He was known for his ties and his love of the D.C. baseball team. Frank had accompanied him to more than one game and watched him eat ballpark hotdogs until any normal man would be sick. It always struck him as funny that the Harvard and Oxford graduate, leader of the country, always so calm and collected, could scream and rant about bad calls against his home team.
“You wear that tie around New York, Mr. President, there’s nothing I can do to protect you from a Yankees fan. Just so you know.”
“Good thing we aren’t technically in New York then.”
The U.N. grounds were extraterritorial, subject only to the laws of the U.N., rather than the U.S. and the city of New York. They’d just left the country, right in the middle of Manhattan, which had always cracked him up.
Frank nodded for him when the President had the gray suit straightened-around just right, like a human mirror.
“I’ve never seen you show a moment of fear,” the President grabbed his briefcase and glanced around to make sure he’d left no papers behind.
“Well, sir, you didn’t see the color of my pants after we climbed off Major Emily Beale’s Black Hawk helicopter on that flight. Fear may only be a seven-point word, but I sure felt it that day.”
A last laugh for the President before he entered the fray of international politics.
A voice in his ear called the, “All clear.” Frank could see the agent outside ready to open the Beast’s door, over a hundred pounds of armor and bullet-proof glass.
“You ready, sir?”
“Ready for an entire day and evening of arguing with China and Russia over the latest North Korean fiasco, and trying to calm down Myanmar about the Thai raids into their poppy fields, and… Sure. Can’t wait.”
“Do it.” Frank announced into the wrist microphone of his radio.
The agent standing beside the car swung open the door.
- Writer
