Government Security Crossword Clue Novels & Stories

"Good morning." "Grayson." Gage's voice was warm but businesslike. "I wanted to thank you personally for looking after Joy yesterday. The security team briefed me on the situation." Grayson frowned. "Why would the security believe you and not Joy's father?" Gage went silent for a moment, and he thought maybe the line had been disconnected. "Sorry… I was just signing some papers. The security team works for me, Grayson. They are on loan to Joy's father to protect her. Again, thank you."

Some might not know but the truth is that both the military, the government and the underground world and the business world collaborate most of the time and I am part of two worlds and also at the top. My cars drove toward the security gate and we were searched respectfully with machines and all, and after we passed so many security checks before we were allowed to go into the hall. The security is so tight and even if the president of the country comes here, he must pass through the same checks, that is how strict it is.

The blood drained slightly from his face, like I’d just punched him in the throat using nothing but syllables. “You mean Sentinel - the security Sentinel?” he asked, voice low. I nodded. “The top-tier, ghost-level, no-one-knows-where-they-operate Sentinel? That Sentinel?” “Yes.” He sat down slowly on the edge of the bed, robe shifting slightly open, not that either of us noticed. His eyes were wide, stunned. “You’re saying… your dad runs the Sentinel Security Group. The one that governments use off-record when they don’t want fingerprints.” “Yes.” “Jesus Christ.”

She looked at him. "Where am I?" "This is the security area of the subbasement." He had a deep, soft voice with a country accent. "I'm Lt. Christopher Jameson of the Department of Protective Services for Homeland Security." She gave him a surprised look, momentarily forgetting about his scars. "In the subbasement?" "Yes Ma'am," he said politely. "The employees of the Federal Building and Federal Courthouse are our protectees." "Protectees..." She said testing the word. "Wow, I had no idea."

“Or they see you as an easier target. Either way, it’s a problem we need to address.” Before Sage could respond, the man from earlier reentered the room, holding a tablet. He handed it to Damian, then glanced at her. “Ms. Whitmore, I’m Elias,” he said, his tone curt but polite. “I handle security for Mr. Cross.” “Security,” Sage repeated, narrowing her eyes. “Is that code for spying on people?” Elias’s lips twitched, almost like he wanted to smile but didn’t quite dare. “I ensure Mr. Cross’s operations remain secure. That includes protecting his...associates.”

Worry crept into him and he hated the fact that he couldn't rush over to the hospital immediately and be there for Tessa as she had a medical check-up. He glanced at the building in front of him and sighed. He glanced at Enock and said, "Let's go. I'll talk to the guys for a few minutes and before we leave, I want to pass through the hospital and see my wife. She's not feeling well." "Noted, Sir," Enock responded. They walked into the building which was called, GT Security Company. It was a company that was secretly founded by Graham. At this company, they trained people to be professional bodyguards and they provided security services like installing CCTV, wiretapping, tracking stolen devic

"After all this time, the electronic systems should be dead." Yet the lock clicked, and the heavy door swung inward with a whisper of hydraulics that suggested recent maintenance. "It's warmer than it should be," James muttered beside me, his breath barely visible compared to ours. My head of security scanned the hallway with his gun drawn, the former Mossad operative moving with practiced efficiency as he took point. His eyes caught mine—a silent warning. This place wasn't as abandoned as we'd been led to believe.

the first guard answered, pulling out a rumpled sheet of paper and handing it over to the detective. Without further permission, they swung into their job, searching every nook and cranny of the room, even the bathroom, until they were satisfied. “If you need security, long press button number five on the landline beside you; it’s a toll-free call that links directly, securely, and only to the security unit, and we’ll be sure to answer you in a jiffy. “And then, officer, I hope we have not vexed you in any way. We’re just doing our jobs. No hard feelings and no offense meant.”

Head cocking, Gianna asked, “Didn’t I tell you what department of the government my dad works in?” Going a little pale, Dante shook his head silently. “He’s the head director,” Gianna stated, getting Dante walking again, “of our homeland security department. Basically, he’s in charge of keeping Sangrid safe from the inside out. And trust me, if he didn’t like you, or if he thought you were a threat in any way, you’d be across town already, being interrogated, lost for a day or so, ending up in your underwear, and so and so forth.”

she says when he joins her at a door not far from where they encounter the guard. “This is gonna be some hard door to crack.” Andrew surveys the top-of-the-line security system on the door. It's fingerprint-only access, the military-grade steel in the door looking like it belongs on the president's most secret underground "protection against nuclear attack and alien invasion" bunker instead of an out of the way abandoned closet in a museum.