ballroom. It was crowded with movers and shakers from both sides of the border, most of them bankers and lawyers, a few Washington hardballers here and there. Juan scanned the room until he saw Tess chatting with a Mexican banker and his much younger soap opera star wife.
Tall and blond, able to move from English to Spanish with fluid ease, Tess Compton was in her element at parties like this. She wore a flowing red halter-top evening gown, a string of pearls at her throat, and was easily the match for any of the many beautiful women in attendance, even the soap opera stars. Despite his urgency, Juan managed a little smile. Very few people in this room had any idea Tess Compton was with the Secret Service, and none of them, save the other agents, had any idea how deadly she could be. Though she’d been raised in the finest country clubs in Atlanta, the daughter of a top executive for Kraft Foods and a Vassar graduate, there was nothing soft about her. He’d once watched her take down, and choke out a man twice her size when he tried to throw pig’s blood on a federal judge they were escorting through the Senate lobby. She’d even made it look easy. Juan had seen a lot of agents come through the service. He’d even trained a good many of them. But none were as good as Tess. That was why he’d made her his second in command, and that was why they had become such good friends.
Tess spotted him as he approached, turned, and touched Senator Sutton on the shoulder, leaning in to whisper something in her ear. The Good Doctor stood a few feet off, a martini in his hand. He was swaying drunkenly, smiling at nothing in particular. Happy as a pig in slop, Juan thought. The senator’s long-time aide, Paul Godwin, was standing just behind the senator, his fingers busily flying over his iPhone.
Both women turned to face him at the same time. The senator, dressed in one of her signature Hillary Clinton-style pantsuits, spoke first. “What’s this all about, Agent Perez? You’re cutting it kinda close, aren’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. He explained about the open window he’d found. “I was hoping you could hold your speech off for a few minutes. Give us a chance to make a thorough search one more time.”
“Ms. Compton already suggested that, Agent Perez. I told her no.”
“Ma’am, please. After what happened in San Antonio, and given the intelligence we’ve had for tonight, I really think—”
“You’ve been conducting your searches all evening,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
“And you’ve found nothing so far.”
“We’ve found an open window.”
“An open window. Nothing else?”
“Ma’am, given the circumstances, I think—”
“I appreciate your professional concern, Agent Perez. Believe me, after San Antonio, I most certainly do. But I need to make this perfectly clear. I will not allow the cartels to dictate one minute of my schedule. Is that understood? Not one single second.”
Juan’s face flushed with heat. This woman was impossible. She had absolutely no concept of the danger she was in. Or was subjecting the rest of this room to, for that matter. It was arrogant and stupid of her.
Tess seemed to sense his frustration, for at that moment she put a hand over Paul Godwin’s iPhone and leaned in to whisper into the aide’s ear.
A moment later, he nodded.
“We could burn an easy ten minutes with you just working the crowd on the way to the podium,” he said to Sutton. “A few handshakes. A few quiet conversations. It’d be good for some camera time, and it wouldn’t look like stalling.”
The senator shifted her gaze from her aide to Juan. He was about to tell her she had no business wading into a crowd that he couldn’t guarantee was safe, but Tess stepped in before he could speak.
“Ten minutes would be about perfect,” she told the senator. “And Mr. Godwin’s right, it’d be a good chance to work some handshakes on the way up to the
Tall and blond, able to move from English to Spanish with fluid ease, Tess Compton was in her element at parties like this. She wore a flowing red halter-top evening gown, a string of pearls at her throat, and was easily the match for any of the many beautiful women in attendance, even the soap opera stars. Despite his urgency, Juan managed a little smile. Very few people in this room had any idea Tess Compton was with the Secret Service, and none of them, save the other agents, had any idea how deadly she could be. Though she’d been raised in the finest country clubs in Atlanta, the daughter of a top executive for Kraft Foods and a Vassar graduate, there was nothing soft about her. He’d once watched her take down, and choke out a man twice her size when he tried to throw pig’s blood on a federal judge they were escorting through the Senate lobby. She’d even made it look easy. Juan had seen a lot of agents come through the service. He’d even trained a good many of them. But none were as good as Tess. That was why he’d made her his second in command, and that was why they had become such good friends.
Tess spotted him as he approached, turned, and touched Senator Sutton on the shoulder, leaning in to whisper something in her ear. The Good Doctor stood a few feet off, a martini in his hand. He was swaying drunkenly, smiling at nothing in particular. Happy as a pig in slop, Juan thought. The senator’s long-time aide, Paul Godwin, was standing just behind the senator, his fingers busily flying over his iPhone.
Both women turned to face him at the same time. The senator, dressed in one of her signature Hillary Clinton-style pantsuits, spoke first. “What’s this all about, Agent Perez? You’re cutting it kinda close, aren’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. He explained about the open window he’d found. “I was hoping you could hold your speech off for a few minutes. Give us a chance to make a thorough search one more time.”
“Ms. Compton already suggested that, Agent Perez. I told her no.”
“Ma’am, please. After what happened in San Antonio, and given the intelligence we’ve had for tonight, I really think—”
“You’ve been conducting your searches all evening,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
“And you’ve found nothing so far.”
“We’ve found an open window.”
“An open window. Nothing else?”
“Ma’am, given the circumstances, I think—”
“I appreciate your professional concern, Agent Perez. Believe me, after San Antonio, I most certainly do. But I need to make this perfectly clear. I will not allow the cartels to dictate one minute of my schedule. Is that understood? Not one single second.”
Juan’s face flushed with heat. This woman was impossible. She had absolutely no concept of the danger she was in. Or was subjecting the rest of this room to, for that matter. It was arrogant and stupid of her.
Tess seemed to sense his frustration, for at that moment she put a hand over Paul Godwin’s iPhone and leaned in to whisper into the aide’s ear.
A moment later, he nodded.
“We could burn an easy ten minutes with you just working the crowd on the way to the podium,” he said to Sutton. “A few handshakes. A few quiet conversations. It’d be good for some camera time, and it wouldn’t look like stalling.”
The senator shifted her gaze from her aide to Juan. He was about to tell her she had no business wading into a crowd that he couldn’t guarantee was safe, but Tess stepped in before he could speak.
“Ten minutes would be about perfect,” she told the senator. “And Mr. Godwin’s right, it’d be a good chance to work some handshakes on the way up to the
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