Wednesday mornings are never any fun. I'm staring at the contents inside the dark blue locker--my SIG Sauer P229 in its holster, my belt and my orange cell phone--wondering how I got here.

I should be in the FBI. After all, that was my life's ambition, right? After years of military school, double-majoring at West Point and after learning numerous foreign languages, my badge should be an FBI badge. But it's not.

Instead, I'm a part of the Protective Detail and Counter Assault Team in the United States Secret Service. I'm twenty-five and already on an elite team of law enforcement, I have way more money than any person should, but I'll tell you a secret--my life isn't all that exciting. I mean, yeah, I drive a Porsche every day when most people never get the chance to even sit in one, but a Porsche doesn't love you back. Scratch that, I didn't mean it. Ashley Davies is by no means a softie, got it?

Rather than waste more time staring at my drab locker, I sit down on the hard bench and slide my boot straps over the bottom hems of each pant leg. I push my feet into the black boots I wear everyday and grabbed the laces on the left boot. I strategically wrap them around my fingers and work them into a perfect knot before tucking them out of sight and repeating the task on the right boot. So fucking interesting, I know.

"Davies, you decent in there?" I hear and I look over to the slightly open door to my far right.

"Yeah, Dennison, I'm good," I reply.

Aiden Dennison cautiously sticks his head around the door and nods when I catch his eye. Dennison and I were in the same graduating class at West Point and we've been stuck together since. I graduated as First Captain and he was the quarterback for the Black Knights. He walks over to the bench and ungracefully plops himself next to me. "So, how was your date last night?"

I sigh, stand up, grab my belt out of my locker and say, "uneventful. The girl never shut up. Do me a favor and don't set me up with any more college girls, okay?"

He smiles that stupid little smile and replies, "gotcha. Well, I had a good night. Apparently, this chick loves showers."

"Spare me the details, Dennison," I say. "What's on the agenda for today?"

"Meeting in Conference Eighteen at 0900 hours," he answers, tapping his fingers along the smooth wood of the bench. "Something to do with the SecDef, I hear."

"It must be related to his plans for Iraq," I state securing my holster to my black belt. "Anything else?"

"I believe that's it; apparently, whatever's going down is priority for our unit," Aiden says while reaching out to straighten my gig line.

"I got it," I say while swatting his hands away. "Oh, do you want to take the four-wheelers up to Kyla's ranch this weekend? We need to do it before it snows."

"Hell yeah, I do! I've been waiting for you to ask," he states with that stupid smile again. "Maybe we can even get Kyla to come out with us."

"Just admit that you're in love with her, Aiden," I say with a grin. Aiden's obsession with my sister is something I often find hilarious.

"Oh, fuck you, Davies," he says as he stands up. "Well, I'm headed to the conference room. Hurry up or your ass is going to be late."

I chuckle as he walks away and as soon as he's out the door, I sit myself back on the bench and rest my head in my hands. I need coffee.

------

I walk into the conference room with my cherished French vanilla coffee and take a seat next to Aiden, who slides me my manila objective folder. Before I can open it, Chief Warrant Officer Andrews opens the door and walks over to the podium stationed at the head of the table. He flips on the projection screen and an image of a blueprint comes to life behind him.

"All right, listen up. Arthur Carlin, the Secretary of Defense, has been receiving death threats directed towards his family. Our assignment is to keep Carlin's family safe until the threat has been eradicated. Open up your folders to the first page," Chief says.

We all do so and I look over the smaller version of the blueprint. There are numerous X's strategically placed all over the grounds and residence.

"Sergeant Davies," Chief addresses and I look up.

"Yes, sir?"

"You're around the youngest Carlin's age, so you'll be her personal detail...and I mean personal. Ms. Carlin is a senior at George Washington University and you'll be escorting her wherever she goes. This will require you to be undercover, understood?" Chief says with a smirk on his face.

This man has been tracking Dennison and I since West Point and he likes to bust on us. Surely it's only to make us better soldiers. I'm sure our suffering has nothing to do with his personal amusement.

"Understood, sir," I say.

He continues with, "Dennison, you're assigned to communication duty with Davies. It's very important that you two maintain constant radio contact."

"Yes, sir," Aiden says through gritted teeth while I try as hard as I can to hold back a laugh. Basically, I'm on the front lines while Aiden will be stuck following me around and checking security. Ha.

"The X's on the screen represent where the rest of your unit will be stationed. Unit One will be first shift, Unit Two has second, so on and so forth. You are all to report any suspicious activity and take the appropriate measures to maintain your objective; keeping the Carlin family safe," Chief says.

He goes on to assign numerous other unit members to the rest of the family and stations. I turn to Aiden and smile cockily.

"Oh, please," he whispers. "You only have that assignment because you have a damn vagina."

"Yeah, damn vaginas," I say sarcastically. "Hey, I wonder if 'Ms. Carlin' is hot."

"Probably," he replies in a hushed whisper. "Have you ever seen the SecDef's wife? Total MILF."

I smirk.

"Ha, you couldn't do a thing about it, Davies, unless you want to be reprimanded."

"I can when the assignment's over," I whisper back. Hell, the chance this chick will even swing my way are slim.

"Hey, this might be like really good on paper," Aiden states.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"FBI," he replies with a grin.

Maybe he's right...

"Davies, Dennison, pay attention," the Chief states and we both sit up a bit straighter. "You'll both be staying inside the south wing at the Carlin residence until this assignment's over."

"We can't go home, sir?" Aiden asks.

"No, so I recommend you pack everything you need," is the reply.

Great, there goes my weekend.

"Okay, units, you're all to be in Conference Ten at 1200 hours for official briefing and you are all to report to the Carlin residence at 1700 hours," the Chief says. "Dismissed."