Page 21 of Her Ruthless Protector

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Kane and Asher got into the meeting room just as they were about to close the door. “Since you’re the last ones to show up, you can be the first to report,” Max said to the two of them. “What’s the exposure like at Oman’s Got Talent?”

“It’s the Eurovision Song Contest,” Asher corrected.

“Whatever, just answer the question,” Max growled.

“The venue is huge, and even now, it’s utter chaos. I can’t imagine what kind of pandemonium it’s going to be on the performance nights. The good news is that there’s a former SAS Major who’s in charge of security. He currently has twenty people on site, and on the nights of the shows he intends to have one hundred.”

“That is good news,” Max agreed. “Is he cooperative?”

“Yep,” Kane answered. “We’re also dealing with A.J. Lancaster who is one of the executive producers, she knows her shit, and she’s showing us around and helping us look for vulnerabilities.”

“That’s good.”

“I still don’t think this is going to be the target,” Kane said.

“I agree,” Max said. “The OPEC or Amnesty events are probably it. Those are the ones that will take out the type of people that will make an international political impact. The list of attendees is making me break out in a sweat. Still, we can’t get complacent.”

“We won’t,” Kane assured his lieutenant. “How was it for OPEC?” he asked Max.

“Zaragoza, why don’t you answer?” Max nodded to Zed Zaragoza.

“On the surface, things are tight at the Al Bustan Palace where the Summit is taking place. They’re used to high-profile gatherings. What’s more, we’ve received the security details that are coming in with each delegate. It’s over-the-top,” Zed said with a shit-eating grin.

Kane and the rest of the team waited, they knew that with that grin, Zed had more to deliver. Zed looked at Max. “Just tell them.” Max shook his head.

“Watching our lieutenant at work is a thing of beauty,” Zed damn near purred.

“Zed.” Max gave his man a warning but everybody else leaned forward. It was always great when Max was in the hot seat.

“Was it a woman? Did Max get her to tell him all her secrets?” Cullen asked.

“Nah, that would have been too easy.” Zed’s grin got even bigger. “Max made friends with the prissy French chef. I don’t know how he did it, but I was scoping out the basement and the roof, and I eventually make my way to the kitchen and Max is eating a gourmet meal and he and the chef are talking like they’re long lost brothers. I didn’t know Max’s command of the French language was that good, or that he was a gourmand.”

Kane had seen it before, Max could make friends with a hormonal pissed-off teenager in detention.

“So how is this the entry point?” Cullen asked.

“Almost every delegate is bringing in their own chef, as well as at least one sous chef. Every damned candidate is insisting on their own menu and they won’t trust Omand to handle it. He could with one hand tied behind his back, but none of the damned delegates will hear of it, so that’s why they’re bringing in their own people. Omand is fired up, not just because of the snub, but because he knows that there is no way security can really be ensured.” Max said.

“Can’t they put a stop to it?” Kane asked.

Max shook his head. “All parties are insisting that their people are vetted. Al Bustan Palace security can’t disagree without offending the delegates.”

“Shit,” Cullen said. “That’s nuts.”

“Okay, that’s what’s going on for OPEC, what have you got for the Airport, Cullen?” Max asked.

“We have good news and we have bad news. The good news is that they will not have any planes flying in or out of the new terminal the day of the grand opening, but the bad news is that the day after, all bets are off and it’s because of that damn music event—thousands of people are coming in for this thing. Even more bad news is that most of the security is going to be aimed at the new terminal which leaves the other two terminals vulnerable.” Cullen said. “Nick and I talked to the head of security, but he wasn’t having any of it. The airport security is handled by the Royal Army of Oman, so they’re not having any part of what we’re saying.”

“Was there anybody at the airport who would listen?” Max asked.

“We finally got ahold of the assistant manager of the airport. The manager is on vacation in Turkey. Anyway, the assistant manager is gathering up all of the various airline reps for us to meet with, as well as his staff. We’ll meet with all of them tomorrow,” Cullen reported.

“Very good,” Max said. Then he turned to Raiden and Leo who were sitting together. “Which one of you wants to report on the Amnesty Conference?”

Leo shifted his thumb at Raiden.