Mark had wanted to bring at least one weapon, but Emily had insisted not. Now, as he lounged once more against the counter in White House security’s single-wide, he was glad he’d finally caved in. These guys had a level of inspection he’d never witnessed before. Agent-in-Charge Adams, first-name-not-supplied, made sure Mark was practically strip-searched despite the fact that “Ms. Beale” had vouched for him.
He knew by heart the background check they were set up to find. And could answer a thousand questions about it without repeating himself, which is the first sign of a fraud. He’d been up most of the night studying.
His fake profile said it all. Rich kid. Surfer, thrill seeker, college dropout with mediocre grades in psychology and a fair set of stats in college ball. No luck trying t
