“Where are you exactly?”
Tavis inhaled slowly, not liking the sound of Ajax’s voice, or his word choice. “Entebbe International Airport. But you knew this. What’s up?”
“Perfect. Change of plans. Don’t board the plane.”
Tavis sighed as he dropped onto a cold vinyl airport seat and rubbed his forehead. “You’ve got another rescue mission that happens to be in Uganda?” He’d just finished locating a college student who had stopped answering his parents’ calls. His wealthy parents. Parents who really needed to stop funding their kid’s world tour until he was mature enough to touch base with his family more frequently.
The kid had been fine. Drunk. Partying. Spending Daddy’s money without a care in the world. Tavis hated this kind of job. There were plenty of legitimately missing people in the world who really needed rescuing. Rich spoiled college boys weren’t among them.
But that had been the job, and who was Tavis to judge what wealthy people wanted to spend their money on?
“It’s not a rescue per se,” his boss at the Holt Agency informed him from their home base on his foster parents’ farm in Indiana.
When Ajax and Ryker formed the Holt Agency a year ago, they’d hired the rest of their now retired SEAL team to join them. Their clients were often private citizens or government officials who needed someone found, rescued, or protected, but Tavis preferred not being assigned to protection detail. There were far better ways to use his skills.
Tavis leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “As long as it isn’t another frat boy needing a babysitter.”
Ajax chuckled, but his voice lacked humor.
“Ajax…” Tavis warned. “Toss me something worthwhile. Something humanitarian. Something that helps the planet. Someone deserving of rescue.”
“Sorry, Bones.” No one had called him by his SEAL nickname since he’d officially left the Navy after being held captive by Ethiopian rebels. Since Ajax had rescued him and the rest of their platoon, he’d let the man call him anything he wanted. “But hey, it’s not a college boy this time.”
“Thank God.”
“It’s a college girl.”
Tavis groaned. “Why on earth do all these rich people let their irresponsible children travel to third-world countries? Do they lack common sense?”
“This case is different. And the college student is actually a PhD candidate. She’s not a girl. She’s a woman. And she’s not missing. She’s on her way there.”
Tavis drew in a breath. “Then why do you need me?”
“Because her father is the secretary of state, and he wants her to have a bodyguard.”
Tavis swallowed. “The secretary of state? You mean William Loughlin?”
“That’s the one.”
“I didn’t even know he had a daughter.”
“Yeah, well, he does.”
“How old is she?”
“Twenty-seven. Harvard graduate. Working on her doctorate in epidemiology from Johns Hopkins.”
“Fuck me,” Tavis muttered under his breath. She’s an epidemiologist? “Shit.”
“Yeah.”
“What do you need me for? Is she already in trouble?”
“Her father wants her to have protection.”
Tavis’s eyebrows rose. “Against what?”
“No idea. He seems overprotective. He’s assigned personal bodyguards to her for years.”
Tavis groaned. “I’m not a bodyguard. I find people. Rescue them. Since when are we in the habit of prevention instead of intervention?”
“I know. But he’s desperate.”
“Why is he desperate?” Something about this assignment felt off.
“Ryker has done most of the communicating with Secretary Loughlin, but I get the feeling she’s difficult.”
Tavis groaned louder. “Ajax…”
“I know. I know. But the money is good. Amazing. And the job is easy. Just keep an eye on the ornery student.”
“And how long is this assignment?”
Tavis could hear Ajax wince.
“Ajax…”
“You’re the best person for this assignment because you’re already there,” Ajax stated, not even beginning to answer the question.
“And I’m single. And I don’t have kids.” He wasn’t the only single guy with no kids at the Holt Agency. But he was one of the few who didn’t have much family.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You didn’t answer my question.”
“Six months.”
Tavis drew in a breath. He’d envisioned a week on the beach in Florida and then maybe a local assignment somewhere at least in North America this time. Six months in Uganda?
Frankly, Tavis would rather be assigned to something a bit more exciting than bodyguard, but he realized there were often underlying issues with any job. If the secretary of state needed a man on his daughter, there could be more going on than Ajax was aware of.
Tavis sighed and ran his hand down his face. “When does she arrive?”
“Tomorrow. Midnight. Coming in from Amsterdam through Rwanda.”
“Yeah, I know the flight.” Another inhale. Another exhale. So much for a week in Florida. “I’ll be here.” He shoved to standing and headed toward the desk where he’d just checked into his flight so he could cancel.
“Thanks, man. I promise, the next job will be cushy after a long vacation.”
“Sure. I’ll believe that when it happens,” Tavis joked.
“I’ll email you the details in a few minutes. Touch base when you can.”
“Will do.” Tavis pocketed his phone and shuffled reluctantly to the counter. Great. Just great. This wasn’t some rich family’s irresponsible kid. This was a very important family’s grown-ass daughter.
Six months was a long time. Tavis prayed the woman wasn’t a bitch. That would make the time drag on forever.