~ Ashton Taylor ~
Sweat was running down my back as I stood there, straight as a poker, eyes front, hands down by my sides like I’d been taught. The blistering midday sun was beating down on me while I was decked out in full S.W.A.T uniform, including black, army style pants that have over a dozen pockets, black T-shirt, black tactical vest and jacket. They liked us to look good for these things.
“How long are they gonna make us stand here? I’m fucking dying!” Nate, my partner, hissed at me through his teeth.
“Not long now; Weston’s started to get hungry. See how he’s shifting in his seat? He’ll wrap this up soon and head straight for the buffet,” I whispered back jokingly. Nate grinned and glanced over at our commanding officer. As if on cue, Officer Weston rose to his feet. “Buffet table here we come,” I mumbled. Nate laughed next to me, quickly turning it into a cough when Officer Weston raised one eyebrow in warning.
“Attention, graduates. Training teams are going to be announced. For those of you that graduated top two in the class,” Officer Weston said, glancing at me and Nate proudly, “you will remain behind because you’ve already been assigned to departments.”
I smiled at those words. Nate and I had graduated top two of our year, with me in first place and it was an honour to be assigned to a department straight from graduation. It didn’t happen particularly often, and you were only offered it if your reputation was known of in high places. The two of us were a wicked partnership, and apparently I had been headhunted for a special mission of ‘utmost importance’, or so Weston had informed me this morning.
My insides squirmed in anticipation. I was hoping for SWAT Front Line; they were the guys who were always first on site, who always saw action, but I knew it wouldn’t be that. No one had ever gone into that team without at least ten years’ field experience. They were the best of the best, and usually they only had an opening if someone died or requested a transfer. I knew that neither had happened recently, but I still couldn’t help but hope.
Officer Weston finally finished his speech, and the guys all trailed off towards the hall, where they had laid on a buffet of stale sandwiches and potato chips. No expense spared. No one minded though because my entire graduating year was hitting a bar tonight in celebration, and I was planning on getting wasted.
Nate and I waited behind as requested. “Taylor, Peters, follow me,” Officer Weston ordered, walking into his shabby office. He sat down behind his desk and motioned for us to sit. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “Right, Peters, your presence has been requested at Division Six,” he said proudly. I grinned happily and slapped Nate a high-five.
“Oh shit yeah! That’s what I’m talking about!” Nate shouted, jumping out of his chair and pumping the air with his fist.
“Sit down, Nate,” Weston laughed, shaking his head in amusement.
Division Six was a fantastic opportunity; he would get direct field experience, and they also had specialised areas which they could train you in. Nate wanted to be a sharp shooter and was incredible with long-range shooting.
“Okay, so they want you from Monday. You’ll report to Officer Tate at 9 a.m. sharp. Don’t be late. Here’s your file, make sure you read it,” Weston stated, handing Nate a brown envelope.
“Yes, sir, and thank you, sir,” Nate answered, saluting respectfully, yet grinning moronically.
“Okay, Nate, you go enjoy the food. I need to speak to Ashton in private,” Weston instructed, nodding for him to leave. I slapped Nate another high-five on his way past, silently praying that I got something as good as his. Officer Weston waited until the door closed before he spoke. “Ashton, you’ve been requested for something important. You’re not going to like this,” he winced, shaking his head.
My heart sank at the look on his face. This obviously wasn’t something good. “Okay, sir, I’m listening,” I said confidently. I was up for any challenge they could throw at me. I worked hard and it paid off. I had graduated first in every assessment, apart from long-range shooting, in which I came a close second to Nate. I held five different department records, including hand-to-hand combat, tactical planning, and hostage management. No one had ever graduated with the honours I had.
He sighed and held a brown envelope towards me. Frowning, I took it and tore it open eagerly, finding a police file inside for an Annabelle Spencer. I flicked it open curiously, not having a clue what this was about. On the first page, there was a photo of her. She was incredibly beautiful. According to this, she was nineteen and a college student.
I glanced up at Weston. “Who’s this?” I asked, confused as to why he had given me this girl’s file.
“That is the daughter of an extremely important man. She’s Annabelle Spencer, daughter of Senator Tom Spencer,” he said respectfully.
My interest was instantly piqued. Tom Spencer was a Presidential candidate who was expected to take over the oval office come the election later this year; he was highly respected and, from what I’d heard, was supposed to be a great man.
“Okay, so why do I have her file?” I questioned, flicking through it and scanning the pages. She was recently expelled from Stanford. She had attended four other colleges in the last year and a half, and had been expelled from every one for violence or damage to property.
“When she was sixteen, she was abducted by Carter Thomas. He killed her boyfriend in a club and then held her against her will for almost a year. The only reason she was found was because the police raided his home for drugs and discovered her there. You do know who Carter Thomas is, don’t you?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at me.
I nodded quickly. Everyone knew who Carter Thomas was; he was the head of a crime syndicate and responsible for the deaths of almost a thousand people when he’d set bombs off in the middle of rush hour in four different subways simultaneously. Everyone knew it was him, but it could never be directly proven, and key witnesses or evidence had a strange habit of going missing just in the nick of time. He regularly ran drugs and was heavily involved in human trafficking from Romania.
“He’s currently serving a life sentence for the murder of Miss Spencer’s boyfriend, Jackson Roberts. She was a witness for the prosecution, and there was also evidence that has linked him directly to the murder. Everyone knows who he is and what he does, but he’s always slipped through our fingers. The murder of Jackson Roberts is the only thing that’s ever gotten as far as a trial. Him being convicted was one of the best things for our country,” Weston said, his expression hard.
“Okay, sir, so what does this have to do with me?” I asked, still not understanding why I was being told about this in the first place.
Weston sat back in his chair. “Well, Carter Thomas has an appeal coming up later this year. Apparently, some evidence may have been incorrectly collected or something. Miss Spencer was the only witness that made it to the trial the first time; there’s a good chance she may be called to give evidence again. There have been death threats made against her, most of them because of who her father is, but lately her family have been receiving threats which they believe are coming from Carter’s organisation.”
He seemed to be watching me, waiting for my reaction. I still didn’t get it. I’d been selected for a special assignment, yet he was telling me about some girl. What did this have to do with me? This wasn’t SWAT business.
He took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m just gonna say it; she goes through bodyguards like you do cold beers. She gets assigned a new one, and within a week she makes them quit. They refuse to work with her. She’s a real livewire from what I understand, a real hard-ass bitch. But this girl is extremely important, not only because she may be required to give evidence against Thomas, but also as the probable future President’s daughter. Her father has requested someone who will be able to deal with her on a day-to-day basis. There’s a specific age bracket because they’ll be required to attend college with her and essentially be her shadow until the end of the court case.”
It suddenly dawned on me where this meeting was going. I stared at him in disbelief, shaking my head and throwing the file onto his desk. “That’s complete bullshit! I’m SWAT; I’m not some fucking babysitter!” I shouted, pointing at the file distastefully.
“This isn’t up for debate. They wanted the best agent within an eight year age bracket, they picked the best agents across every department, sending the top ten to Senator Spencer, and he picked you specifically! You were the only graduate to be considered. You should consider this a great honour,” Weston said persuasively.
I growled in frustration. “Why are we even getting involved? If she’s the daughter of a Senator then this should be secret service, not us,” I countered.
He sighed. “She’s been through most of the guys there, Taylor. Plus, there aren’t that many agents there within the age bracket; most people go into secret service a little further down the line in their careers,” he explained, shrugging. He cocked his head to the side, his eyes boring into mine. “Ashton, it’s just until the end of the court case. Eight months, that’s all. Senator Spencer has guaranteed you your choice of posts after that time. Anything you want, even Front Line.”
My head snapped up at those words. “Seriously?”
He smiled and nodded. “I knew that would get your attention, but I need you to understand that this is a very important job. It may not sound it, but if she dies and the case falls apart, then Carter Thomas will be released and hundreds, if not thousands, of people could be killed over the coming years,” he said gravely.
Right, okay, I get it. Do a good job babysitting for eight months, get dream job. Done! “Okay, I understand, sir.” I was smiling now.
“You can’t tell anyone about this. You’ll need to say you’ve been assigned somewhere out of state. You’ll be undercover with her.” He picked up the file that I’d tossed onto his desk and handed it to me.
I flicked it open again and looked at the picture of the girl. Fuck, I sure hope I get undercover with her! I mused. She was just my type, dark hair and dark eyes, and she was the prettiest damn thing I’d ever seen. I couldn’t tell what her body was like because she was wearing baggy jeans and a hoodie, but her face was so beautiful that she could be a supermodel.
“Okay, make sure you read the briefing file. There’s a DVD in there too, which is the security footage of her old school and the reason she got expelled. Like I said, she’s kind of a badass; the reasons for it are in the file, which doesn’t make for good bedtime reading.” He grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck as he said it. I looked down at the file nervously, wondering what could be so bad that Weston was all jittery and uncomfortable about it. “Right, well I guess that’s all. I’ve mocked up a fake assignment for you in case people ask. A flight has been booked for you for tomorrow morning and your tickets are in the back of the file. Pack casual; they’ll have stuff waiting there for you too, so don’t go too overboard with the clothes. Only a few people are in the loop on this due to the sensitivity of it; they’re not sure if there’s a leak in one of the departments, so if you need anything, you call either me or Commander Erikson. His details are in the back of the file. Good luck, Ashton,” he said finally.
He stood up, holding out his hand to me; I shook it then saluted him respectfully, before walking out the door. Heading around the corner, I pulled out the mock assignment, memorising all of the details before I went to join the party with the other graduates.
I didn’t stay out long with the other boys; my flight was due to leave at eight thirty the next morning, so I had to pack and make sure I was ready to leave. Once in the solitude of my bedroom, I grabbed the file and stretched out on my bed to read it. As I was expecting, it was pretty harrowing.
Annabelle had been held by Carter Thomas for just over ten months. He had thought of her as his girlfriend, even though he was nine years older than her. She hadn’t been allowed to leave his house and he would beat her and mentally torture her. She had tried to kill herself by slitting her wrists when she was first taken and had been found locked in a cupboard – bruised, broken and almost catatonic. She had refused to speak to anyone for two weeks after this, and then her first words were to a police officer, begging him to kill her.
I gulped and flipped to the next page, which showed photos of her the day she was found, and her injuries for the police file. They weren’t nice to look at. Bile rose in my throat at the sight of her swollen and bruised face and arms. The medical report showed she had a freshly broken rib and finger, and old, healed fractures of her ribs, wrist and collarbone.
My heart was beating out of my chest, grieving for the sixteen year old girl who witnessed her boyfriend’s murder and then was abused physically, mentally, and sexually for over ten months.
Three and a half years on, the nice, young girl that everyone loved had turned into a bitter, nasty bitch. She was socially alienated, shying away from all relationships, and emotionally cutting herself off from her friends and family. I wasn’t allowed ‘under any circumstances’ to touch her, unless the need arose in a combat situation. She had attempted suicide on two other occasions, both times by swallowing pills, but someone had found her in time. Both attempts had been on her birthday. I glanced at her date of birth and saw that her next birthday was in six months’ time. I made a mental note to be extra vigilant.
It appeared that Annabelle got into trouble a lot. I pushed the DVD into the player and sat on the floor to watch it, eager to see the reason she was excluded from her last school.
The footage came on, and a classroom came into focus. People were sitting around on desks, talking, obviously waiting for their lessons to start. I spotted her immediately; she was wearing baggy jeans and a baggy sweatshirt. As she walked past a guy who was laughing with his friends, he slapped her ass.
She practically jumped a mile into the air before rounding on him. “Don’t touch me,” she spat harshly.
“Sorry, princess,” he laughed, holding his hands up innocently.
She flinched as if he’d hit her. “Don’t ever call me that again,” she said quietly, looking both scared and angry at the same time.
“Call you what… princess?” he mocked.
She flinched again before her expression turned hard. “If you call me that again, I’m gonna break your nose and your balls,” she retorted.
The guy and his friends just laughed at her threat. She smiled sweetly as he bent his face close to hers. “Okay, princess,” he said sarcastically.
Before he could even flinch, she punched him in the stomach then kneed him in the groin. As he bent over in pain, she grabbed the back of his hair and smashed his face into her knee, breaking his nose easily. He slumped down to the floor, crying in agony.
She patted him on the head, still smiling sweetly. “Told ya,” she chirped, before grabbing her bag and storming out of the room with everyone watching her in shock.
I burst out laughing. She definitely was a badass.
I flicked through the rest of the file. Apparently, she didn’t have friends anymore, didn’t date, and didn’t go to parties. The notes said that she didn’t trust anyone and was extremely suspicious. She was bordering on depression and suffered from recurring night terrors. In the last three years, she had become totally focussed on martial arts and was well trained in self-defence, karate and kickboxing.
On the last page was my brief. I was to be posing as her boyfriend. I groaned out loud when I read the B word. I was to amend my age from my actual twenty-one to nineteen – the same as her. We would be doing the same college classes, which were Art and Graphic Design. I sighed deeply and carried on reading. I was to live with her on the college campus in a two bed apartment. I wasn’t allowed time off apart from the scheduled college breaks, at which time she would go back to the family home, and I would be allowed to do as I pleased because she would be protected by other agents.
There would be one other bodyguard in full uniform, which was the standard secret service bodyguard that they assigned to close family members of the Senator. The guy’s name was Dean Michaels. Apparently, they would assign a night guard to watch the building while we slept. I was to remain undercover at all times, which meant no dating and no sex for eight months. I groaned at that. This is going to be the longest eight months of my life.
Upon my arrival at the airport, I was to be collected by helicopter and taken to the Senator’s summer residence, where we would stay for almost a week, getting to know each other, before moving to the apartment for college. According to the file, Annabelle didn’t know about the death threats against her; she was just told that they were beefing up her security due to the upcoming election.
I stored the numbers of Officer Weston and Commander Erikson into my cell phone, and then started packing casual clothes for college. Afterwards, I crawled over to my bed in my crappy, little apartment that Nate and I rented together and climbed under the sheets. I’d said goodbye to the guys already. I was really going to miss Nate; we had become great friends during the last four years’ training. He was more like a brother to me in some ways.
I didn’t have anyone else to say goodbye to. I had no family; my parents had died in a car accident when I was ten, and I had bounced around from foster home to foster home until I was seventeen, when I had finally gotten a place of my own. I closed my eyes and willed myself to fall asleep quickly because tomorrow was going to be a long day.
The flight was good. It was only for two hours but they still put me in first class and I dozed off for almost the entire trip. I hadn’t slept well the night before. Every time I’d shut my eyes, I had seen Annabelle looking at me with her cold hard eyes, begging me to help her. Then I would pull open a cupboard to see her beaten and broken on the floor and I would jerk awake in a cold sweat. I had a feeling that this was going to be a harder assignment than I had first thought. I hadn’t even met her yet and already I wanted to protect her.
When the plane finally landed, I was ushered through the checkpoints to a private helipad on the other side of the airport. A tall guy in a black suit held his hand out to me; he was probably in his mid-thirties, with sandy hair and brown eyes.
“Hi, I’m Dean Michaels, Miss Spencer’s far guard,” he greeted me as I shook his hand.
I smiled politely. “Ashton Taylor. Nice to meet you.”
He showed me to the helicopter and we put on our headphones. “The trip’s about thirty minutes. You’ll like the summer house; it’s nice, and right on the lake,” he said, smiling.
“Right, sounds good. So, what can you tell me about Annabelle?” I asked, watching his face closely for his reaction.
He frowned before speaking and seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “Miss Spencer is very… difficult. You need to watch her all the time; she can get in trouble easily. She’s had twenty-three near guards in the last three years; the longest one lasted just over three months. I’ve worked as her far guard for a year and a half, and the only reason I’ve managed to last so long is because I don’t have regular contact with her.” He shook his head seeming a little annoyed.
“The near guards get fired within three months?” I asked, slightly panicky. If I couldn’t last the full eight months, I wouldn’t get my choice of assignments.
“No, man, they quit! She makes it her personal mission to make them leave. I think she sees it as some sort of challenge. Her record so far is four days,” he laughed.
A lump formed in my throat, so I quickly swallowed it. “So, she doesn’t want a near guard, or what?” I asked. What is it with this girl? Maybe she needs to know about the threats against her so that she’ll be easier to protect, because there is no way I’m quitting.
“Nope, she doesn’t want any guards at all. I think she tolerates me because I stay out of her way and keep a distance. She doesn’t like company; she’d rather be on her own. She’s been through a lot, and it’s changed her,” he replied casually.
“Does she know I’m coming?” I asked, looking out over the fields that we were flying over.
He laughed quietly. “Yeah.”
I looked back at his face; he shook his head and laughed again. I smiled in understanding. She didn’t want me there – that much was obvious from his reaction.
“Senator Spencer gave me your file. How the hell did a guy like you, who’s top of your class and the academy’s new golden boy, end up with a shitty assignment like this?” he asked, looking genuinely curious.
I closed my eyes and rested my head on the seat back. “I have no idea,” I mumbled. I was still asking myself the same question. I could see the importance of it, but surely there could have been someone else for the job that came from a protection background. I stayed quiet for the rest of the trip.
After what seemed like forever, we landed outside an expansive house that was right on the lake. I followed Dean into the house, trying not to react to the sheer size of it. I trudged behind him, looking around in awe at the real wooden floors, the heavy drapes, the framed artwork on the walls. It was like something out of a magazine. Dean stopped outside a door and chatted to a lady sitting at the desk; she was probably in her mid-fifties and she glanced over at me with a friendly smile.
I cleared my throat and put out my hand in greeting. “Hello, ma’am. Ashton Taylor, it’s nice to meet you.”
Her eyes widened as her gaze flicked over me before placing her hand in mine. “It’s nice to meet you too. My name’s Maddy Richards and I’m Senator Spencer’s Personal Assistant. I’ll just let him know you’re here, he’d like to speak to you,” she said in a business-like tone. She picked up the phone and spoke briefly. “Okay he’s free right now, you can go in.” She nodded towards a door on my right.
A wave of nerves suddenly hit me as I realised that I was about to meet the probable next President of the United States. I swallowed my nerves and went in as instructed. He was sat behind a large, wooden desk, and there was a lady sitting on the couch, drinking tea. She was very pretty and had dark brown hair, which she had pulled into a bun, and brown eyes. She looked somewhat familiar; maybe I’d seen her on TV or something.
Senator Spencer stood up, smiling at me, and walked over, holding out his hand. He was a very imposing man on television, but it was even more apparent in person. He oozed confidence and ability, and had an air about him that certainly explained why he was tipped to win the upcoming election.
I shook his hand confidently. “It’s very nice to meet you, sir.”
“You too, Agent Taylor. This is my wife, Melissa.” He gestured to the lady on the couch. I turned and smiled as it clicked into place why she’d looked so familiar when I stepped into the room. She looked like Annabelle, but Annabelle had a radiant beauty that far surpassed her mother’s.
“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” I nodded.
“You too. Hopefully you’ll last longer than the other near guards; Annabelle needs some stability,” she said sadly.
Senator Spencer cleared his throat. “So, Agent Taylor, I’ve read your file, and I must say it’s mighty impressive. Your reputation is incredible at the agency. They have exceptionally high hopes for you.” He gestured to the couch for me to sit. “You’ve read your brief, I assume?” I nodded in confirmation and sat as instructed. “Do you have any questions before you meet Annabelle?”
I nodded. “Only one, sir. I was wondering why you don’t just tell Miss Spencer about the threats so that she would be more cooperative with her guards. It would be a lot easier to protect her, and ultimately make her safer, if she were more accommodating.”
Mrs Spencer gasped and the Senator shook his head fiercely. “Annabelle is very fragile. She doesn’t like to show it, but she’s still grieving for Jack, and what that animal did to her.” His hand clenched into a fist before he took a deep breath and composed himself. I liked this guy already. “She can’t be told. She barely copes as it is, she doesn’t need anything else to worry about on top.” He stood up and walked to his desk, picking up his phone. “Maddy, could you have Annabelle come in here now, please?”
His face still looked sad with deep pain across it. This man had worries about his daughter that no father should ever have to go through. I hadn’t thought about them when I read her file. Thinking about it now though, I realised that they had been through hell too. Their sixteen year old daughter goes missing, presumed dead, then months later she’s found broken, abused, and totally a changed person. They had to watch her sink into depression and attempt suicide and turn into a cold, heartless person, and now they couldn’t even hug her or hold her hand.
The phone on the desk buzzed, and Maddy’s voice came through the intercom. “Senator, Annabelle’s here,” she announced.
“Okay, Maddy, send her in,” the Senator answered, glancing at me, his expression almost apologetic.
A few seconds later she walked into the room. As soon as I laid eyes on her, I knew I was in trouble. She looked so incredibly vulnerable. Her eyes were cold and distant and held a pain that I couldn’t bear to think about. She had seen things that no one should ever see. Carter had broken not only her body, but her spirit too.
Her eyes only flicked to me for a split second and held no reaction whatsoever before she turned to her father. My heart skipped a beat and my stomach tied in a knot. I wanted to run to her, wrap my arms around her, and tell her everything would be okay. I wanted to make her smile and hear her laugh.
Oh fuck it; I really am in deep shit!