SECRET SERVICE

Chapter One

Gwendolyn watched quietly behind shaded sunglasses, the show being put on before her. At least the show her father was giving.

He stood at the podium, his presence more intimidating than the military brigade behind him.

The air was cool and crisp and with every word he spoke, puffs of white air came out of his mouth. His eyes were pinched from the sun shining brightly down on them all.

There had been media presence that had been pushed back to the outskirts of the funeral, all in effort to give Bryant's family time to mourn in peace.

Though, nothing had been peaceful able the past few days in her life. Coming home from work, her trusted bodyguard and long time friend had been shot dead in front of her.

For a moment, Gwendolyn was sure the attacker would turn the gun onto her as well, they were almost successful had the gun not gotten jammed.

Every time she heard a click she felt an uncontrollable amount of dread that would flood her senses.

Aside from her fathers words, the cemetery had been silent. Any parties wishing to visit their deceased loved ones wouldn't be able to today with President Cavanaugh present.

Around them were secret service members, not interested in concealing their presence today. Yet, they weren't here for her father, they were here for her.

The moment her father had discovered what happened, he'd fallen into a frenzy of desperation to protect her, nearly to a suffocating degree.

Even now as she mourned her friend, she was being watched by several pairs of eyes. And she could feel every second of it.

She shifted uncomfortably, readjusting her black gloves covering her hands from the chill in the air. Spring was surely trying it's hardest by February in D.C. were always the worst month of their winters.

It would likely linger until April, and Gwendolyn couldn't wait for the chill to be gone at least for a few months.

"I think that the most important thing we remember is to hold your love one's tight, and never forget to say your I Love You's" Her father finished his speech and it was met with light applause from an audience who weren't sure if it were appropriate.

Her father stepped down from where he was standing, patting Bryan's wife on her arm and hugging his daughter before walking back to his seat, several away from Gwendolyn's own.

Her heart began to beat fast as she knew that it was now her turn to speak. She stood on shaky legs, thankful she avoided wearing heels today, opting for black flats.

She wore a dress that fell just below her knees that were covered in thermal stockings. She approached the stand, looking back at the crowd.

It wasn't until that moment that she realized just how many people were in attendance. She corrects the mic, opting to focus on the cards in her hand rather than the many faces looking at her.

On a shaky breath, she spoke, "I first met Bryan when I was only fourteen years old. He was one of the many men hired when my father was elected, and chosen to be my guard. I can only imagine after spending thirteen years in the Marines, he found his new job less than exciting."

Her words elicited a few laughs from the crowd who knew just how massive Bryan had been about his time spent in the Marines.

"But he never complained, he essentially became my nanny. He took me to school every day, picked me up. When I moved to London to study abroad, he even followed me there. Bringing Kate and Mary." Kate, Bryan's wife smiled at Gwendolyn while wiping her tears from her cheeks.

"Bryan never shied from a single duty in his life, and he took his duty to protect me extremely seriously. To the end, his end."

She took a deep breath, her throat had been burning from her trying her hardest to hold back the tears that now began flowing down her face.

"Losing Bryan is like.... Well, we already know how that feels. The lingering emptiness... but he was truly the best person to ever be stuck with me. Words won't be enough to be able to make up for his loss, but his favorite quote was kept on keeping on."

She finally pulled her eyes away from the cards and looked up, "So that is just what we will do."

A speech so short shouldn't have to have been written down, but she still hadn't gotten the moment to collect and gather her thoughts.

Gwendolyn quickly made her way back to her seat, expelling a deep breath in thankfulness that this part was over.

Now, however temporary, she would be able to grieve in peace.

~*~

Alaric's leg nervously tapped as he sat on the intricately embroidered chair.

The Oval Office.

He had only seen this room on television and movies, he had never assumed his line of work would lead him there.

He was left alone in the room, but he knew he was still being highly monitored. He wanted to get up and observe the historic furniture and artwork, but he was too nervous to breathe at that moment.

The room as exactly how it looked in photos. A large mahogany desk sat in front of a three-pane window with golden curtains hanging from it.

There was a green leather chair, perfectly polished — Alaric wondered if it had ever been used.

He sat in front of a wooden coffee table, absent of any decorations. There was a small sitting area where he sat at. Alaric's eyes tried to absorb everything around him, unsure if he would remember it all in detail to tell his friends about later.

While it was his first time in the White House, it wasn't his first time meeting Peter Cavanaugh. When Alaric first became acquainted with the man, he had only been a Judge.

Alaric had still been in the same line of work, fixing problems for people who could afford to play God. He had worked for politicians, doctors, and diplomats. They were in fact his most popular clients.

So when Peter Cavanaugh approached him, he wasn't shocked at all. He wouldn't be the first dirty judge, and wouldn't be the last dirty politician.

Peter had managed to get himself in problems that he couldn't fix on his own. Apparently, the Judge had an attraction to young paralegals, and when the blackmail appeared on Cavanaugh's desk, he hunted down Alaric.

Alaric's name had been in the black books of the world's most elite. It wasn't easy contacting him, and it was expensive to retain him.

When Alaric received a call from Peter two nights prior, he was shocked. He had watched the man on the news every morning.

He was praised as being the President who saved the country. His policies were well liked by most and he had the best ratings in the past twenty years.

His praise was quadrupled by the passing of his wife five years prior — and only two years into his presidency. With him not looking his age and being considered attractive to most, Alaric assumed he must have a list of women, but he had no commitments that he had years prior.

So what would he need with Alaric?

The answer would soon come when the doors opened. Peter walked into the room, wearing a suit absent of the jacket. He was followed by two people who nearly walked on his heel, closing the door behind him.

"Alaric," his voice boomed in a greeting, "I am glad you could make it, I apologize for my delay."

Instead of taking his seat at the desk, after shaking Alaric's hand, Peter walked over to the chair across from him. His posse opted to sit in the stand near the door than sit.

"I am sure you had a good reason," Alaric commented. Seeing Peter in a casual mood had eased his nerves, it had been just like when he met him years ago.

Peter turned to the others in the room, "This is Michael Charles and Caitlyn Barret. Caitlyn is my private advisor, and Michael is in charge with Gwendolyn's safety."

They both bowed when acknowledge, but made no move to speak.

"I don't assume you called me here to meet them, did you?" Alaric asked. He hoped his curt attitude would remind Peter that he had no care for formalities.

"Right," Peter said, "I called you here for your services."

Peter sent Caitlyn a nod, and as if she knew exactly what it meant, she rushed towards a cabinet and opened it, revealing a small stash of alcohol.

"A couple of days ago, there was an attempt on my daughter's life."

The words shocked Alaric, he had heard nothing of it in the media. He had never met Gwendolyn, but he had seen many photos of her.

They were the same age, when he had first begun working with Peter, Alaric was stunned by her beauty.

He had even considered himself grateful to not have to be near her, he was sure he would manage to screw up their first interaction.

She was the type of person you admired from afar, like the sun, you cannot get too close or you will be burned. Though, the scorn usually would come from Peter.

"Though they didn't succeed, they managed to fatally wound her trusted person guard." Peter further explained.

Michael stepped up at that moment, "The guard that was killed had decades of combat experience and his instinct was almost clarvoyant. Whoever this person is, took him down face to face."

Alaric could tell that Michael had been emotionally involved, if not for the outburst, it would be the way his voice cracked at the mention of the man.

"Which leads us to believe that this person has a high skill set."

"Do you know who this person is?" Alaric asked, practically salivating at a real challenge.

"No," Peter answered, "That is where you come in." He nodded his head to Michael who walked over and sat a manilla folder down on the table.

Alaric picked up the folder, opening its contents as Peter continued, "Since I have announced my candidacy, Gwendolyn has gained some... unworthy admirers. Some are just idiots trying to get a rise out of me. But we have maintained a list of several men we believe has an unhealthy infatuation with Gwendolyn."

The folder contained files of these men, including their photos and what led them to be on the list. Some looked like they belong, while some looked like Alaric could pass them on the street and suspect nonetheless.

"We believe that it is one of these men who were involved, and we believe that they will attempt again."

"I don't hunt people down." Alaric said, closing the folder and setting it back on the table, "When you know who it is, then you can call me."

Alaric moved to stand and exit, but Michael's figure purposefully blocked the door.

"Alaric, please," Peter asked from behind his back. Alaric knew there was no fighting his way out of this, he wasn't an i***t.

He took his seat back down, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't think you have a check big enough to cash to make me hunt down an unknown. I could easily just kill every man on this list for you."

Michael tensed near the door at Alaric's words and Peter let out a curse, "That would be the political scandal of the century." He balked at the idea.

"No one would have to know, it's just us four in this room." Alaric shrugged, "Possibly just two."

His threat was clear, but even then Michael and Caitlyn failed to speak out of turn.

"We aren't asking you to kill anyone." Peter said, "And I would never make such a request."

'Oh, now he is trying to put on a show.' Alaric thought.

"We need you to stand in as a romantic interest for Gwendolyn. We believe if you do so, it will drive her stalker crazy enough to strike. That is when I expect you to defend yourself and my daughter."

His words stopped the humorous thoughts going through Alaric's mind right then and there.

"What?"

"I am willing to pay you handsomely, we will even input expenses needed for you to look..."

"Presentable." Caitlyn finished, "We have a tailor, stylist, and a speech therapist to assist you in the transition."

Alaric still couldn't think of a single thought so again he said, "What?"

"Gwendolyn has never dated anyone publicly, of course, you must be a presentable first choice." Caitlyn continued, as if moments ago, Peter had given her her cue.

"It will only be for the duration until we find her killer." Peter continued, "And Alaric, I must make this clear that I am not asking you to do this. I am telling you."

The threat unsettled Alaric. Mostly because it had not been needed. The moment that Peter had mentioned an attempt on Gwendolyn's life had been made, he felt the budding need to protect her.

While he ideally would prefer just to find the culprit and bring them to the task. But it wasn't likely that would be an opportunity when the killer had currently been unknown.

By being unknown, they would always have the advantage.

"Why me?" Alaric asked.

"I am well aware of your skill set, you have no obligations to diplomacy. And I know if you need to take lethal action, you will." Peter said, "It is why I am telling you this, you are the only person right now who can assure me that my daughter will be safe."

Alaric felt a moment of humanity just then before taking a deep breath, "I'm in."

He could see the relief on everyone's faces at his answer before he spoke again, "But I don't need a speech therapist."

Caitlyn frowned at his southern drawl before turning to Peter, "That alone would be a miracle."