Elite 2: The Wrong Side of Revolution by Joseph C. Anthony Page A

be able to show off his new body and talents to Jordan—to prove to her that she had made a mistake choosing Demérs over him. Although he no longer needed Jordan to see him as Superman, deep down there was still a part of him that wanted to impress her.
    After another minute or so, Jordan reached the end of her treadmill’s workout program, and the belt under her feet slowed to a halt.
    “Come on,” she said to Daniel, wiping the sweat from her brow. “Go get ready.”
    “Where are we going?” Daniel asked, pushing the “Stop” button on his machine.
    “It’s Saturday,” Jordan responded as if Daniel should have already known. “We’re going shopping.”
    Daniel mocked Jordan with the expression on his face and said, “Well duh,” as he threw his hands up in a feminine fashion.
     
    As he threw his hands up in a feminine fashion.
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him that wanted to impress her.
dan to see him as Superman, t Daniel slid his pistol into his black shoulder harness it reminded him that he was on duty. It would be easy to fall into the trap of getting too comfortable while out on the town with Jordan, but he had to remember to stay focused and keep his eyes out for any suspicious behavior. It was unlikely that Jordan would be in any real danger—spending the day with her was merely a way for Demérs to get his money’s worth while he took care of some business he didn’t want Daniel knowing about—but if Benze was as bad as Demérs made him out to be, an attack on Jordan was not out of the realm of possibility.
    It was for this reason Daniel was glad that he had been assigned to Jordan, and not just because it would be nice to catch up with an old friend. He trusted himself to protect her better than just about anyone.
    He threw a button-up sweater on over his holster and buttoned it in the front, concealing his weapon. It was a cold and blustery winter afternoon in Chicago with snow flurries in the forecast, therefore he decided to skip the suit and dress more casual for the occasion. He wore jeans along with his black button up sweater over a white T-shirt. Over that he threw on a black wool coat and slid a pair of leather gloves over his hands and a black winter hat onto his head.
    He made his way down the stairs to find Jordan making the finishing adjustments to her own wardrobe. She was wearing a tan, draped linen sweater that wrapped in the front, blue jeans, and a pair of brown heeled boots that ran all the way up to the bottom of her knee. Daniel never understood why women insisted on wearing such uncomfortable footwear.
    Daniel stood back and watched as she put on a tan knit cap that fit loosely around the back of her head. She looked very grown up—very classy—A long way from the college farm girl next door that he had fallen for several years ago.
    “I like that coat,” she said, noticing him standing on the other side of the living room.
    Daniel held his arms up and looked down at his black wool coat.
    “It’s the same one I had last year,” he said.
    “Is it?” Jordan asked, clearly not remembering.
    Daniel took a breath and decided not to bother with any unnecessary response. “Are we ready?”
    “Just about,” Jordan replied, picking up her off-white coat that sat draped over the back of the sofa.
    “Gordon’s money’s got you looking classy these days,” Daniel remarked with a grin, feeling the comment was relevant since they were about to go shopping with her wealthy fiancé’s credit card.
    Jordan smiled as she threw her coat on over her shoulders.
    “I wish I could say that I only spend my money on clothes, but I think we’d both know that was a lie,” she responded.
    With that she grabbed her designer handbag and the two made their way to the door.
     
    The air was bitter and the wind only made it worse, but for most Chicagoans it was a typical December afternoon. Scattered snow flakes blew across the air and every time a gust of wind blew in their direction Daniel and