Chapter Four

The MSD men waited in the briefing room for Martin and his RSO team to join them. Happy to be in an air-conditioned facility—deep in the bowels of the embassy, Gage powered up the basic cellphone and tossed the packaging at the trash can. 

“Ya missed, bro.” Gannon grinned and threw his empty box in the same direction. “New guy cleans up the mess.”

Kohen shrugged and stood. Local comms were crucial in the field. MSD agents couldn’t miss a beat when it came to enabling varying and reliable devices. After the briefing, they’d check weapons and their kit, which always remained at the embassy unless in use. 

“So, what’s the deal?” Kohen tidied up their mess. “We’re playing babysitter for ‘Chanel Five?’”

“Chantal. Her name is Chantal, and we’ll get the lowdown in ten.” Gage eyed the newer agent, not liking his condescending tone or the nickname. 

The medic lowered his voice. “I hear she follows her mama around like a lamb… hangs with the locals… gets to travel for free.”

“And if the Anaconda hears you disrespecting her daughter, she’ll nail your balls to the wall.” Gannon popped a stick of gum in his mouth. 

Ambassador Durant was known in diplomatic circles as the Anaconda—for a good reason. Rumored to latch onto an adversary and squeeze them into submission, whether through diplomacy or sheer willpower, Connie Durant never gave up. Gage admired her tenacity and fairness in the field and looked forward to meeting her. Over the years, she’d earned great respect, and he’d heard she was up for the Regional Director role. 

Martin entered, followed by what Gage assumed was either the Deputy RSO or an ARSO—an Assistant Regional Security Officer. The men stood and shook hands as Martin made introductions, and the rest of his staff filed into the briefing space. Finally, Martin kicked off the meeting. The initial intel, centered around Pearl Bandara and her daughter, proved to be sobering, and Gage leaned forward. “Where are they now?”

“Back in the States. The human rights commission has launched an investigation, and the overwhelming evidence of her ex-husband’s past atrocities is in safe hands. Except Rajin Bandara has disappeared and has a vast network which is promoting his propaganda and dissent.”

“Vast as in?” Gage asked.

“As in communities that will fight for him—why do you think we can’t find the bastard. He’s charming, persuasive, and focused on building his Robin Hood persona. Vast as in a suspected private army of thousands. His cohorts claim that he is hiding because the Americans are spreading lies and fabricating the evidence, and he’s ‘afraid for his life.’ We’ve underestimated his loyal following, which now includes radicals willing to go to war to protect their benevolent leader. They’ve made threats against the ambassador.”

Gannon waved a pen. “Ambassador Durant has her own MSD team in place—Team Three—they arrived a few days ago.”

“Correct.” Martin picked up a remote control as the projector flickered to life. “But her daughter, Chantal Durant, is a concern. They’ve named Chantal as a target. She’s of particular focus due to her relationship with Pearl.”

“In what way?” Gage rubbed his fingers along his forehead as he zeroed in on the details of his mission.

“They’re good friends and have worked together in Colombo at the Confianca Recovery Center. Chantal is a chiropractor who volunteers her services and works with the disabled—war victims and the likes. Pearl Bandara is—was—a prime investor in the center.”

“How does this relate to Miss Durant’s safety?” Gage asked.

“Pearl contacted Chantal for help the night she ‘disappeared.’ It’s become clear that Rajin wants to find his daughter and ‘traitorous’ ex-wife and knows about Chantal’s involvement in helping Pearl. On two occasions, shady characters have swung by the recovery center looking for Chantal.”

“Why doesn’t she remain at the embassy until this dies down? Or she could fly back to the States?” Jason steepled his hands before cracking his knuckles. 

“It’s complicated. She won’t leave the ambassador’s side. They’re both involved in raising funds for mine clearance and amputees. Chantal refuses to back down or accept help.”

“Don’t you have a local police escort?”

“Yes. Except we’re not sure if the local guards are trustworthy, and implying that they aren’t or removing the detail, could cause political repercussions. We’ve already swapped out her local detail. Rajin is—was—the Minister of Law and Order and owns the police—has police chiefs and officers on his payroll.”

The communicated intel had Gage worrying his bottom lip. They’d be tiptoeing through a mafia minefield in a perfect storm. He didn’t want to fuck with local law enforcement, but if they interfered with Chantal Durant—his assigned principal...

His head began to pound, and Gage asked the million-dollar question. “What happened to warrant an MSD detail for the daughter?” 

Martin pressed the remote, and a choppy video appeared, which looked to be from a cellphone in a market. 

“This was filmed by a British tourist in the vicinity. Two days ago, during her lunch break, Chantal, along with a fellow volunteer, visited a local market. The local officers assigned to her protective detail conveniently disappeared as two men accosted the girls. We’ve had the guards fired and investigated. Both women fought back. Chantal and her friend both know the basics of self-defense.”

Gage watched as a hooded man tried to strong-arm the ambassador’s daughter. The bruiser twisted Chantal’s arm as she kicked at his knee. She hit the mark. The second man appeared to shove her blonde friend away, who punched out with what seemed to be a brutal uppercut—Gage couldn’t tell as the shaky image bobbed from side to side. Their attackers lost time and locals leaped to the women’s defense. Both bastards broke past the crowd and made a run for it. 

“Have they been identified or caught?” Lucius asked.

Gage glanced over at the MSD agent who asked the question. Lucius Jones was the quietest member on Team Five. A tall black man built like Hercules. His talent—aside from being a deadly agent in the field—was language and dialect. All the team members spoke a variety of languages, which was par for the course as a DSS or MSD agent, but Lucius had a real knack for learning quickly in the field and won over the locals on most assignments. 

“Not yet. Facial recognition on the little we have isn’t working, but we’ll persist.”

Someone knocked on the door, and a young woman entered, followed by the ambassador. The team jerked to their feet as the ambassador greeted the room and introduced her assistant and her Chief of Staff. Gage knew that Ambassador Durant’s embassy team rivaled some of the best on the planet. Connie Durant replaced section chiefs with foreign service veterans. Slowly pulling some of the best talent from various embassies around the world took skill. 

The ambassador took a seat, adjusting her black jacket as everyone resettled. Gage noticed that she favored her left side ever so slightly, and he thought back to what he knew of her history. Before he could continue his musings, she pinned him with a direct glare. 

“Mr. Hendrix. I specifically requested Team Five, as I’ve heard good things about your actions in the field. I’ve also heard that you occasionally take risks, and so far, they’ve paid off. Tell me that I’m making the right decision when it comes to my daughter’s safety.”

“Yes, Madam Ambassador. We’ll do everything we can to protect Chantal Durant. But my advice is that she should be heading across the globe to the States until this blows over.”

The ambassador smiled. “The Durants are built of sterner stuff, and I admire Chantal’s determination and commitment to the cause. I’ve spoken with her, and she will remain by my side while we negotiate these troubled waters. The Bandara investigation is a temporary situation. Once the authorities capture Rajin and he answers for his crimes, life will return to normal.”

“Madam—”

“We’re dealing with a cornered coward, and the political repercussions of his actions are containable. Chantal’s new local protection detail will remain in place and work alongside your team. If they step out of line, you’re running the show.”

“Will she be a cooperative principal?”

“Chantal will listen. At the moment, she’s angry and scared for Pearl and her child. They worked closely together for almost a year.”

Gage flipped through the intel on an iPad. “In two weeks, there’s a two-day trip scheduled to Hatton. That’s hill country, right? Amongst the tea plantations?”

“Yes. There will be a delegation from the U.S. Department of State’s Office of Weapons Removal and Abatement. We’ve planned the exo-kinetic and mine clearance symposium. That’s non-negotiable. Chantal has worked in tandem with our embassy to bring awareness to both projects.”

“Which are?” Gannon asked.

“Working with amputees and participating in de-mining efforts. There are still regions in Sri Lanka covered in landmines. And these hidden dangers injure civilians every year. Along with Martin’s department, Team Five will prep for the event. I won’t stop working with communities and performing as ambassador unless I have no other choice.”

Gage closed the open e-file. “We’ll start with surveillance. I want to follow your daughter and her assigned local team and note their patterns. Usually, this takes a couple of weeks. I’ll probably need three days, which gives a starting point in identifying weak areas and individuals in her first layer of protection, while at the same time, keeping an eye on Miss Durant.”

“Should I let Chantal know that we’re watching her detail?”

“No.” Martin cut in. “Miss Durant will be added to the loop when Gage’s team has made their assessment. The Colombo police bodyguards are decently trained, and I handpicked them myself and added an additional detail.”

They continued with the briefing, breaking down the logistics and expectations. Martin handed over a file on Chantal Durant. 

Gage tuned out the room chatter as he flipped through the thin file, pausing on a couple of photographs of Chantal. Placing the driver’s license aside, he picked up the second photo of her dressed in a summer dress. She sat in a hammock chair and smiled at the camera. Her straight brown hair cut into a bob cut, sat an inch above her shoulders, and added to an understated beauty. Deep dimples creased her cheeks. Despite her upturned mouth, her large brown eyes held a darkness that Gage had rarely seen on a civilian’s face. There was something in the way she sat—a discomfort and uncertainty which seemed out of place in the beach setting. 

Gage looked up and met the ambassador’s direct gaze.

“She’s the spitting image of her father.” Her lips twisted, and she glanced at the photo in his hand.

Aside from high cheekbones and her chin, Chantal looked nothing like her mother.

“We’ll keep her safe.” 

The ambassador nodded. The meeting turned to the Local Guard Program and local resources. When the meeting finally wrapped, the men headed out to grab lunch. The heated air bounced off the street, and Gage’s neck immediately dampened with perspiration. 

“I hope the mother/daughter dynamic isn’t going to complicate this mission.”

Gage turned to Lucius, surprised that he’d picked up on the same anomalies. “I need more intel—a rundown on our principal. I’ll speak to Martin.” Gage stayed away from complexity—both in life and on the job. And had a feeling that they may have stumbled across Pandora’s Box.