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Tumult (TSS Series Book 1) by Lea Hart (2)

CHAPTER TWO
Friday, September 29th
 
Carrick walked into the conference room of Titan headquarters and wondered what was on tap for his next assignment. He’d been home from Chad for two weeks and was starting to get antsy because, though he enjoyed his training duties, he much preferred being in the field.
He grabbed a seat, then watched Brendan and Locke argue about the move the Chargers had made as they walked into the room. The football team that had been in San Diego for fifty-six years had decamped to Los Angeles and not one of the fans was happy about it, with Brendan and Locke being the most vocal.
Rear Admiral Clint Foster followed them in and shook his head as he took a seat at the head of the table. “If you two are done with the great debate, grab a seat so we can get started.”
“Yes, sir,” they responded in unison.
Carrick smirked and looked down at his tablet. Once a commander, always a commander, and though Clint was retired from the Navy just like the rest of them, they still treated him as their CO and he didn’t ever see that changing.
“Where are Andrew and Stephen?” Carrick asked.
“Andrew is in L.A. protecting a Rwandan diplomat and Stephen is in Brussels picking up the vice president of the European Commission. They’re flying to Catalonia so talks can begin between the separatists and Madrid,” Clint responded.
“Heard nine hundred were injured when the vote took place on Friday,” Brendan commented.
Locke tipped back in his chair and added, “Going to be a lot more if Madrid doesn’t sit down at a table and start negotiating.”
Clint unstacked his folders and cleared his throat. “Let’s go over the upcoming assignments, so I can tell you what’s on deck.” He flipped one open and looked at the men. “Locke, you expressed interest earlier in becoming part of the training team that’s overseeing the militia development center in Abu Dhabi, so I’m sending you over.”
“Right on. I’ve never been to the UAE and I’m looking forward to being on the side of the Persian Gulf that doesn’t have mortars flying overhead.”
“In case the peace and quiet get to you, you can always bounce up to Karbala and take in the smell of 671 grains of diplomacy,” Carrick added helpfully.
“Yeah, don’t think that’s going to be necessary.” He grinned and pointed his finger at Carrick. “You, my friend, have the best assignment of the month and get to guard-dog my cousin’s client.”
Carrick studied Locke and wondered what the hell he was talking about. By the looks of his smug smile, he didn’t think it was going to be something he enjoyed. “Going to give me more?”
“No, but Clint will.”
Turing toward his boss, he lifted his shoulders in question. “How did I get so lucky?”
“Living right,” Clint responded. He tilted his tablet and then flicked his finger across the screen and sent the file to the men’s tablets. “Titan has been charged with protecting one Audrey Barnes. Her agent has requested a proposal of services as well as an evaluation of safety risks for taking one of her authors into Syria.”
Carrick looked at the file that appeared on his tablet and studied the outline. Apparently, a writer was writing a story on the female Kurdish resistance fighters that were part of the YPG and she needed to spend a week in the northern part of the country. “Why does she need to go in person and not just do the interviews over Skype?”
Locke spoke up, “According to my cousin Kelly, you can’t write about people that you’ve never met in person.”
“Intel indicates Ms. Barnes is not only an accomplished attorney but a successful author as well,” Clint said as he opened one of the files next to his tablet. “She wrote a book last year about her experiences with the Greek refugee crisis. According to her bio, she left a fast-track partner job at Sullivan and Cromwell and went to work for a Catholic NGO and offered her legal expertise to refugees stuck in Greece.”
Brendan sat up and tapped the conference table with his knuckles. “She’s like that woman who married the actor…what’s her name?”
“You mean Amal Clooney?” Locke asked.
Snapping his fingers, Brendan grinned. “Yeah, that’s the one. This Audrey Barnes is just like her.”
Carrick silently groaned as he recalled a conversation he’d had with Brooke Foster a couple of weeks ago. She’d told him that his “Amal” was coming and he needed to get himself ready.
According to the rear admiral’s daughter, it was only a matter of time before he was going to give up his confirmed bachelor status and follow the rest of the dolts into a happily ever after. Which seemed about as possible as him suddenly liking Justin Bieber.
Sliding through the info, he read quickly through her professional bio and noticed she’d been educated in Boston and attended one of the top law schools in the country and then went to work for the number four firm after graduation. Probably not a dummy, and looking at her author photo, damn beautiful to boot.
Not that he cared what she looked like, but a face like that…shiiit. Not going to be a hardship to spend time together. Unless she was a pain in the ass and didn’t know how to follow orders.
Going into Syria was a dangerous endeavor and the only way to succeed was for Audrey to do as he said, no questions asked. Looking at her picture again, he saw her radiant smile and wondered how amenable she was going to be once they landed.
Clint checked his tablet and then looked over at Carrick. “SAI has a shot at this as well. She’s meeting with us first and, needless to say, I’d like Titan to be awarded the contract because it will open up a whole new sector of business that we’ve not been players in. Max and his team do a hell of a job with the personal security business and if we want to build our reputation, then we need to get in the game as well.”
“How many offices does SAI have now?” Carrick asked.
“They have nine and are looking to open another one by the end of the year,” Clint responded. “Max Bishop has built a damn fine company and I have a ton of respect for him, not only because he served under me for a couple of years, but because he shares the wealth of the company with his employees.”
“Doesn’t stop us wanting to play in his yard, though,” Locke added with a laugh.
“Never met a SEAL who didn’t love a little competition,” Clint replied. “The farther away we move from the ‘Blackwater’ stigma, the better off we’re going to be long-term. The name change helps, but it’s just the beginning of turning the tide of how people perceive private military contractors.”
“I’ll get started on mapping out a travel plan and seeing what contacts we have working in the area. Going to need back-up once we arrive in-country.”
“American forces are working in the region aiding the Kurdish resistance, so reach out and see if you know anyone deployed there. We also have a team of men working at a base in the region, so call the North Carolina office for details,” Clint added as he closed the folder.
“Any Green Badgers in the area?” Carrick asked.
“Probably quite a few,” Clint responded. “I believe the men we have in-country are at the al-Tanf air base on the Syrian, Iraqi, and Jordanian borders. It’s the hub for American and British Special Forces, but that’s not going to be of much use because it’s too far away from Kobane.”
“Seems I’m going to spend my weekend doing homework and getting in touch with friends so I can get an updated view of the situation. I haven’t been in the area for over a year, and in today’s world, that’s a lifetime.”
“Let’s meet early Monday morning, so we can go over your plan,” Clint said as he checked his calendar. “Brooke is coming by at 0900, so let’s meet at 0800.”
“Roger that,” Carrick responded.
“That’s it for now.” Clint stood and gathered his things. “Everyone have a good weekend.”
Brendan stood and grabbed his tablet. “Don’t forget—we’re meeting at SandBox Pizza tomorrow.”
“1400?” Locke asked.
“Yeah, the Navy at Tulsa game is going to be on around 1500 and I want a good seat with a pizza in front of me when it starts.”
“See you, there,” Locke responded as he watched the men leave the room. “I want you to behave with Audrey,” he said as he picked up his stuff. “Audrey’s agent is my cousin Kelly and the woman is a shark with a bad attitude and a loud voice. If something happens, I don’t want to hear her bitch and complain if you don’t do right by her best friend.”
Leaning back in his chair, Carrick steepled his hands in front of his face and breathed deeply before speaking. “You just hit me with a mountain of shit, and I’m not sure what I want to respond to first…maybe…fuck you for thinking I would A) not give this assignment my best effort and B) not act professionally.”
“I know you’re going to do both of those things, not a doubt in my mind, but Audrey is a beautiful woman and a firecracker. I’ve met her a couple of times and if you think that author picture does her justice, then you’re in for a surprise when you meet her on Monday.” 
“I’ve never had a problem behaving around beautiful women; I don’t know why you think I’m going to lose my shit with this one.” Crossing his arms, he raised an eyebrow. “You have the hots for her or what?”
“No, I mean…yeah, when I met her a bunch of years ago I did, but it never went anywhere and we’re just friends.” He ran his hand over the edge of the table and shrugged. “She’s smart and being around her means being at the top of your game 24/7. Nice as can be, but sharp as a tack.”
“I don’t expect this assignment to be different than any of the others that I’ve had over my career, so your nervous nelly worrying and fussing is a waste of time. I’ll get her in and out of Syria without so much as a split end and be the professional that I’ve always been.”
Locke leaned forward and slapped him on the back. “Good enough, but prepare yourself because it isn’t going to be easy.” He stood and walked out of the room laughing.
“What the hell?” Carrick muttered to himself. Locke wasn’t in the habit of offering advice or warnings and he had no idea why this Audrey person was making him start. He looked at his tablet and slid through the file again, looking at Audrey’s picture. Beautiful absolutely. Was he going to fall all over himself and make a play for her—absolutely not.
The very idea of that occurring was about as possible as him voting for a Democrat in the next presidential election.