Ember
My first weeks working as a security guard were a huge learning curve. Aaron and the others had stressed how important it is to make the client feel safe — nearly as important as actually keeping them safe. Some do this by not talking to the client at all, so they feel as if they are being protected by the kind of professional they see in the movies, which are often former special forces people who are all business and completely focused on their job.
I’d watched some video of Cora when she worked with a rock star though, and she had her own style. She held onto him most of the time — he rarely had his arm around her. Instead, she held his arm, kind of like they did in Victorian times. Or, I suppose that’s when the man offered his arm and the woman hung on it. This allowed her to move him as needed, and she could let go and grab her weapon without having to extricate herself. She talked a little, but mostly, she was the vapid girlfriend who wasn’t included in the conversation very often.
Mac showed me some footage of her with a famous female singer, walking with her as if they were friends. She changed her looks up, so she fit the person she was guarding. If a star wants visible bodyguards, they’re wearing suits and look intimidating. Aaron would likely only use me when he needed a covert bodyguard.
My first assignment with Drake Security was to protect a female bank manager who was a week away from her divorce being final. Her husband had gone to jail for thirty days after he punched her in the face and she’d had to stay overnight at the hospital for observation. Her concussion, black eye, and sore jawbone were all better now, but she was terrified he’d come at her again. He’d pled guilty for a deal to only see a month of jail time, and his time inside seemed to have only pissed him off more. He blamed her for the abuse he took while inside.
Aaron assigned me the five in the evening until five in the morning shift, which meant Dementor and I were finally on a similar schedule.
I wore a suit, with my weapon in a harness under my jacket. Sloan was my shadow, and he was an actual former Navy Seal who fit the strong, silent type you expect when you think of bodyguards. So, while I met her at the bank, walked her out and down the street to her barre class, and then even worked out with her, Sloan shadowed us. I’d have to deal with the first twenty to thirty seconds of any problem, but then he’d be there to help. The idea was to protect her without having to resort to violence, and a big dude showing up is a lot more likely than a tiny female to stop someone by intimidation.
After the barre class, the client had dinner with a female friend, and I sat with them, watching our surroundings while they talked.
The friend wanted to know how I’d protect them, and asked if I had a gun.
“I don’t talk about operational security. Sorry.”
“But you’re smaller than us. He won’t be afraid of you!”
“She doesn’t want him to know she hired security. I don’t look like security, but I assure you I can handle him if he shows up. The two of you go back to your conversation now, so I can pay attention to our surroundings.”
He didn’t show himself until the third day I was with her. She didn’t need us while she was at the bank, since their regular security guards wouldn’t let him in due to the restraining order. He had an account at the bank, but the judge had been clear he’d need to use either the ATM or go to a different branch. So, I met her when she got off work and drove her to the park on this day. She wanted to run, so I ran with her.
We’d changed up her routine a little. Some things, like her barre class, were set in stone, but she usually ran at a different park. We were both surprised when we rounded a corner and her soon-to-be-ex-husband stood in the middle of the running trail.
I stepped in front of her and met his gaze. “You’re in violation of your restraining order, Mr. Miller.”
Sloan spoke into my earpiece. “On my way.”
I wore a tiny button cam, which would give our client evidence to use in court against him, but that meant I had to be triple careful about how I handled the situation.
“I need to talk to her. I lost my temper before.” He looked over my head at her. “I’m sorry. We need to work this out. She didn’t mean anything to me.”
“Clearly, it’s the vows you made to me that meant nothing. As my friend here said, you aren’t supposed to be near me. You should go.”
He tried to step around me, and I moved in front of him. When possible, you should get your adversary to lay a hand on you before you take them to the ground. It simplifies any possible legal action. If necessary to protect the client, I’d take action before he touched either of us, but I’d had plenty of training in how to make sure it looked right on the camera.
“Mr. Miller. I need to you step back, please.”
He focused on me as more of an annoyance than a threat. That worked in my favor.
“You’re the one who needs to step the fuck back. You don’t get between a man and his wife when they’re working shit out.”
He spoke with his mouth clenched. De-escalation wasn’t likely to work, so I decided to escalate the situation and keep him focused on me.
“Estranged wife. Actually, let’s go with soon-to-be-ex-wife, and it can’t happen soon enough, if you ask me. You no longer have a right to talk to her. Leave.”
He put his hand on my shoulder to move me out of the way or push me down. I’m not certain which, because I timed my strike and kick so they happened a few milliseconds after his hand landed on me. He clearly had zero experience with martial arts, because two strikes and one kick put him face down on the ground. I rode him down while pulling his right arm up behind him enough to hurt. He screamed in pain, but I told him, “It’s only uncomfortable if you fight me, Mr. Miller. I suggest you relax and wait for the police quietly, but you’re more than welcome to keep fighting me, if you prefer.”
I heard Sloan in my earpiece again. “Excellent work. I’ll stay in the distance so he won’t know I’m here.”
I looked up to the client. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m glad you were here. Thank you.” She took her ponytail out and worked to put it back up. “You didn’t even need your gun. How did you do that?”
“I can recommend some martial arts classes you can take instead of your barre class, if you’d like to learn.”
“Yes. I think I would.”
Sloan came in my ear again. “This isn’t the way we keep clients, shortstuff.”
The police officer took a picture of my security credentials when he made his notes for the police report. The client pressed charges for stalking and for breaking the restraining order. The control room had me press charges for assault. I got the information from the officer that our tech guys would need in order to send him the video from my body cam. Thankfully, the officer was nice so it was a relatively painless process. For us, anyway. The asshole ex-husband got stuck in the back of the squad car to wait because he couldn’t control his mouth.
Because there was a possibility the asshole’s high-dollar attorney would get him out on bail, I didn’t think we’d alter her nighttime guard. I walked her in the house and let Sloan in the back door. The two of us cleared it despite the fact her husband was in jail. He might’ve hired someone to take her out, for all we knew. I was scheduled to stay until my shift was over, but an hour after we got her home, the control room said she’d be fine with just Sloan for the night. I was sent to Dementor’s house.