filled his nostrils. Eggs and bacon. Naturally, Mason wasn’t enticed by such a foul smelling breakfast and he doubted if the now health–conscious president would eat them as well. At least there would be plenty of food for the hungry agents.
He walked through the foyer and into the living area where the staff waited. He took a cursory look at each individual. Humans. No predatory signs emanated from the room, so no vampires were about. Before the hellos began, he gave them a dismissive, “Good morning,” in the best Bostonian accent he could muster. He then followed the agents as they swept through the house.
The home had already undergone a security sweep by the agents in the house. This second round by the inbound team was only precautionary. Sometimes Mason contributed to the security check, sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes the real president went inside the house with Mason hovering above in the decoy helicopter.
Change. Keeping things different every time. That was the key to being secure.
Not wanting to stand around and possibly make some small talk with the help, Mason inspected the kitchen. Might as well get the foul smelling room over with first. The spacious room had another human cook busily removing egg souffles from the oven. The chef paid him no attention and there were no presidential threats in the kitchen. He then walked through the dining room, the den, and three spare bedrooms. Eventually, he found his way through to the presidential suite. Two agents exited the room as he entered.
He heard one of the agents announce, “Clear,” followed by the same word echoed across the home and into the com units. The president would be allowed to land and enter the home once Mason contributed to the calls by saying, “All clear.” Just as he was about to leave the president’s bedroom and make the announcement, he heard a slight pinging sound. It sounded mechanical and definitely high pitched.
Mason couldn’t blame the human team for having missed the sound, figuring only a vampire or a dog could hear such a pitch. He walked across the Persian rug towards the bed. He circled the king sized sleigh bed and picked up the sound from the wooden headboard.
The sound persisted. It held a rhythm, and it definitely was not ordinary. Mason leaned in toward the bed and noticed a clicking sound.
He then announced into his com unit, “Code Black Hawk.”
*******
“Copy that,” came the voice through the com unit of the soldier piloting Marine One. “Package secure. Activating plan Omega–2B.”
Mason didn’t know of any Omega–2B plan. He only knew that both helicopters were already following prearranged escape orders and taking the president either back to the White House or to another secure location — and that’s all that mattered. With the amount of fuel a helicopter carried, he assumed Marine One would go back to the White House. Either way, Daniel would now protect the man, leaving Mason’s mission clear. He needed to investigate the breach he had uncovered.
The security detail now consisted of ten Secret Service agents and himself. Naturally, the agents knew of the change of plans, but the house staff of eight did not. As far as they knew, they had met the president when Mason walked into the house. And that’s how it would stay.
The noise continued to sound and Mason studied the bed frame for any wires, but found none. He had just knelt down by the bed when an agent by the name of Liam Riggens walked to the threshold of the door. Liam had been with the Secret Service for over a dozen years, and Mason knew him to be a good and loyal man. He was formidable as a human, standing over six feet in height, with a square jaw and a military haircut. He filled the frame of the doorway and held out his hand.
“Sir, I need you to remain still.” His voice sounded commanding, his stance threatening. His eyes traveled the length of Mason. “The house is being evacuated and the demolition team is on
He walked through the foyer and into the living area where the staff waited. He took a cursory look at each individual. Humans. No predatory signs emanated from the room, so no vampires were about. Before the hellos began, he gave them a dismissive, “Good morning,” in the best Bostonian accent he could muster. He then followed the agents as they swept through the house.
The home had already undergone a security sweep by the agents in the house. This second round by the inbound team was only precautionary. Sometimes Mason contributed to the security check, sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes the real president went inside the house with Mason hovering above in the decoy helicopter.
Change. Keeping things different every time. That was the key to being secure.
Not wanting to stand around and possibly make some small talk with the help, Mason inspected the kitchen. Might as well get the foul smelling room over with first. The spacious room had another human cook busily removing egg souffles from the oven. The chef paid him no attention and there were no presidential threats in the kitchen. He then walked through the dining room, the den, and three spare bedrooms. Eventually, he found his way through to the presidential suite. Two agents exited the room as he entered.
He heard one of the agents announce, “Clear,” followed by the same word echoed across the home and into the com units. The president would be allowed to land and enter the home once Mason contributed to the calls by saying, “All clear.” Just as he was about to leave the president’s bedroom and make the announcement, he heard a slight pinging sound. It sounded mechanical and definitely high pitched.
Mason couldn’t blame the human team for having missed the sound, figuring only a vampire or a dog could hear such a pitch. He walked across the Persian rug towards the bed. He circled the king sized sleigh bed and picked up the sound from the wooden headboard.
The sound persisted. It held a rhythm, and it definitely was not ordinary. Mason leaned in toward the bed and noticed a clicking sound.
He then announced into his com unit, “Code Black Hawk.”
*******
“Copy that,” came the voice through the com unit of the soldier piloting Marine One. “Package secure. Activating plan Omega–2B.”
Mason didn’t know of any Omega–2B plan. He only knew that both helicopters were already following prearranged escape orders and taking the president either back to the White House or to another secure location — and that’s all that mattered. With the amount of fuel a helicopter carried, he assumed Marine One would go back to the White House. Either way, Daniel would now protect the man, leaving Mason’s mission clear. He needed to investigate the breach he had uncovered.
The security detail now consisted of ten Secret Service agents and himself. Naturally, the agents knew of the change of plans, but the house staff of eight did not. As far as they knew, they had met the president when Mason walked into the house. And that’s how it would stay.
The noise continued to sound and Mason studied the bed frame for any wires, but found none. He had just knelt down by the bed when an agent by the name of Liam Riggens walked to the threshold of the door. Liam had been with the Secret Service for over a dozen years, and Mason knew him to be a good and loyal man. He was formidable as a human, standing over six feet in height, with a square jaw and a military haircut. He filled the frame of the doorway and held out his hand.
“Sir, I need you to remain still.” His voice sounded commanding, his stance threatening. His eyes traveled the length of Mason. “The house is being evacuated and the demolition team is on
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