Close Call

The team had rolled out only ten minutes before. A protection detail for the senator again, and Ingrid herself. Some sort of meal at the home of another politico, all the way on the other side of the state. Even with the logistics worked and reworked until there wasn’t so much as a chink in the armour, so to speak, Rowan felt her stomach pitch uneasily as the convoy pulled away from the building. Until Ingrid had pushed her into place as her second-in-command, in charge of the facility here whenever she was away, her place would’ve been right there at her boss’ side. Instead she was left the child with her nose pressed to the glass while others took her place.

She should have confidence, she told herself as she turned away and returned to her desk to scoop up the next batch of rosters, it was her brother at her side tonight at least. What Tobias might have lacked in training he made up for with age, pure bad ass dragon strength and that extra mile you went if it was your own family on the line. It might’ve been years since she’d tried to fight to the last breath to protect her parents but Rowan still remembered how it felt. A red wave in front of her vision that hadn’t faded until Ingrid had been right there, talking her down off of the ledge she was about to willing throw herself from. If she’d been able to do that she would’ve bene in a shallow grave now too.

Despite the thoughts twisting behind her eyes, Rowan managed a small smile for the operative that knocked on her door. The man in charge of the other protection detail running tonight. ”Your team should be ready for you. There was a last minute switch, so you have Fournier and Ingrid has MacKinnon instead. If he gives you any trouble, let me know.” AKA, let Ingrid know. Luc apparently hadn’t done enough to earn his way off that precarious bottom rung of the ladder yet. The jury still seemed to be out on just how Ingrid was coping having him here at all. But, that was none of her business.

Rowan started to gather up the paperwork for tomorrow’s schedule as the operative disappeared without a single sound of disappointment. Ingrid had trained her people well, none of them questioned orders, except perhaps for Luc. That wasn’t her problem either, he wasn’t stupid enough to grumble to her, not know that her thumb was on that red button just as much as Ingrid’s was and she’d been given carte blanche on pushing it.

A minute later the intercom on her desk buzzed. The front desk calling through. Rowan’s brow furrowed faintly as she picked it up. ”Hi. What’s going on?” It had to be something, it wasn’t as though they had any appointments at this time of the day, they’d all been shunted to the morning in anticipation of tonight’s dinner.

”A Mathias Jensen is here to speak with Tobias,” the receptionist told her. Tobias who’d just left with his brother. So this was Ingrid’s nephew.

Hesitating for a moment, Rowan let out a long breath. She could just have him told of his father’s whereabouts, it wasn’t her job to manage the operatives personal diaries, but in a way this was family. ”He’s just left but send him through. I can explain in person at least.” The paperwork was immediately stacked out of the way, she’d take it with her when she returned to the hotel instead.

By the time the man appeared at her office door, Rowan was already standing up. She approached, a friendly smile on her face, her hand extended. ”Hi. Come on in. I’m Rowan Bishop.” Not that her name would mean anything to him. ”Unfortunately you just missed your dad. He’s gone out of town for the evening with your aunt. Can I get you something to drink?” A small comfort considering he hadn’t found who he’d come looking for, but a little civility given to the let down at least.

Tagged: MATHIAS JENSEN * Word Count: 687