“Okay. Good. And, Keenan, you can call it in to your commander once we talk a bit, if that’s okay.”
“Umm, okay.”
“Come this way. Keep in mind we have an experienced sniper on cover.”
“Oh. Shit.”
“Not to worry, Keenan. I’m only letting you know.”
“Much appreciated, um, Hannah.”
They walked the hundred yards to the heliport with the five-man team running a beautiful protective bubble around the president and her new charges. The broad-shouldered major had a stern tilt to his jaw and remained tight to the president’s side. He exuded a repressed fury, presumably at the risks she had taken over the past few minutes. Walking beside the major and the president, Keenan overheard a few frustrated, but insistent, comments in this regard.
Keenan evaluated where they were going. He could see the Masontown Heliport in greater detail as they approached. He was quite impressed by the efficient way the president’s team moved as a finely-tuned unit. He was captivated by the firepower and protective gear each man had. Arriving near the gate, the entire party stopped at the command of Major O’Malley.
“Coming in, alpha tower one, do you copy?” said Major O’Malley.
“We copy. We have you coming in. Over.”
“We’re bringing in eight men. Their weapons are safed and neutral, but not confiscated. Understood? Over.”
“Weapons safe and neutral but in play. Copy that.”
“Bravo team, bringing in friendlies, weapons safe and neutral, but not confiscated. Do you copy?”
“Copy that.”
Major O’Malley turned to the colonel. “We’re good to go, ma’am.”
“Thanks, major.”
“Keenan, c’mon. Make sure your men know to keep weapons outta their hands for the next few minutes. Things can get kinda dicey comin’ in on my men.”
“Sure.” Keenan nodded to each of his men, making it clear to keep their weapons stowed as they walked across the tarmac; all newcomers stared at the beautiful helicopter, rotors spinning down.
“Wow,” said Keenan, “is that… Marine One?”
Walking closest to Keenan, Major O’Malley sought calm, trying to figure out the new man. Studying Keenan, he sensed a confidence beneath a bubbling youthful exuberance. The younger man was powerfully strong in his legs, shoulders and arms, but this was easily overlooked due to his handsome face and bright gray eyes. Thinking the young man carried himself well as a natural leader given the circumstance, Major O’Malley decided to answer, somewhat mollified.
“Sorta. The designations correct ’cause it’s carrying POTUS. But that’s an H-92 Superhawk, a badass bird if there ever was one.”
“Wow. So this is most definitely for real, huh, major?”
“As real as it gets, major.”
“Call me Keenan, please.”
“Alright. I’ll consider you the real deal for now, Keenan. Don’t fuck with us, I mean it. I’m Major Mike O’Malley. Call me Mike.”
They shook hands, Major O’Malley feeling the last vestiges of his anger at the colonel’s risky action begin to fade. He nodded to several of his men nearby, who lessened their intense scrutiny of the newcomers. Coming up on the small hanger near the Superhawk, they saw two women, one holding a small child, emerge from the helicopter bay. The spinning rotors slowed, a sign that an imminent takeoff was no longer a priority. Glancing left inside the heliport area, Keenan saw two men, well-seasoned veterans by the looks of them, stepping toward them from the hangar doors. Colonel Starkes and her team stopped, waiting for GT and Scott, Nicole, and Amanda to make their way toward them. Nicole spoke first.
“Well, hello new guys!”
Her energy, innocence at seeing the new men washed a surreal sense of strangeness into the mix. But, it also seemed to immediately lessen the tension of his men and the president’s men surrounding them. Keenan noticed the impact, making a mental note to find out more about this fine-looking woman.
“What we got, ma’am?” asked Scott.
Colonel Starkes turned, smiling at the men behind her. She turned back to him and nodded. “We’re good here, Scott.”
Scott and GT glanced at Major O’Malley who gave them a raised eyebrow and shrug.
“Okay, ma’am,” said Scott.
Colonel Starkes turned to her new acquaintances. “We’ll make more formal introductions later. You guys hungry? We can prepare some decent food.”
“Um, yes, ma’am. That might be nice.”
“Good. C’mon, Keenan. Major, secure the area and join us.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The retinue entered the hangar and entered the main office. Keenan and his men tried their best not to stare too hard at the three beautiful women walking in front of them. They knew one was apparently the President of the United States and the two others were simply striking in their beauty and charisma. One had her raven-black hair shaved on one side with a bandage showing, but this did little to detract from her beauty. Knowing his men, Keenan gave a few, one in particular, a stern look that spoke of them receiving incredible pain if anything stupid was said. He gave Lieutenant Wahlberg an especially long stare. Colonel Starkes smiled after catching his efforts to control his men. She moved toward Keenan and stood. Turning, she sought out Ren.
“Break out the good stuff, lieutenant.”
Ren nodded and scrambled over to the helicopter. He spoke quickly with Shamus who stood guard with Daniels, protecting he bird. “We’re feeding these guests, Shamus.”
“So I see, Ren. Would you be so kind as to update Tim in the tower? It’s possible our guys over there forget to include him.”
“Sure, I guess he’s probably wondering.”
“Could be.”
“Okay.”
“Tell GT or Scotty to give me a sit-rep on your way in, would ya?”
“Sure, Shamus.”
“Thank you, son.”
Ren grabbed a large, green container from the helicopter bay, hauling it back to the hangar. Struggling with the weight, he made it back as the people inside the building started to settle in. He sat the box on the desk.
“Here you go, ma’am.”
Colonel Starkes broke from talking to Keenan and the major, walking to his side. “Thanks, Ren.” Opening the lid, the colonel dug deep to the bottom. “Tell me it’s in here somewhere, dammit!” she mumbled.
Shifting items around, she pulled out a bottle of Grey Goose vodka. The new men tracked every movement, waiting to see what else would be added to an already very interesting day.
“Here it is,” she said, “Keenan, I’d like to offer you and your men a bit of a toast to a good conversation. Major? Can we find some cups?”
The Grey Goose in her hands was held up for all to see.
“Hold on, ma’am,” said Nicole. She ran to the other office after pushing off CJ to Amanda. Unable to resist, all men watched her move, anticipating her return. In short order, she came back with a clumped batch of Dixie cups from the old water cooler. Gently flirting with each, she handed cups all around before returning to Amanda and regaining her son.
“Thank you, Nicole,” said the colonel.
“I’ll do it, ma’am.”
“No, major, I’ll do it,” said the colonel, “Relax, I do know what I’m doing here, Mike.”
The major relaxed some. Still, his dissatisfaction with her recent reckless behavior prevailed. He leaned close to her ear. “Sorry, ma’am. But you can’t keep doing that kinda shit—”
“No, you’re right. I know.” Seeing the irritation and concern on his face, Hannah lowered her voice to a whisper. You’ve been great, truly. Sorry to drop that on you out there, major. But, it felt right, you know? I owe you one. In the meantime, try to chill and keep your eyes and ears open.”