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Just doing my Job

The Introduction

“Is this really necessary? The boys and I aren’t even together right now. Everyone is off doing their own thing. I’ll be staying out of the eye of the press. I’ll be fine.” The young blonde pop star was in a mood and he wasn’t willing to concede. He had received minor threats over the past five years. This new threat was different though. His manager had been warned and given information for who to contact if the need ever arose. Unbeknownst to him, Jon had already set the wheels in motion. As they were speaking, a US Marshall was on the way. Round the clock protection was a given; whether the popular singer wanted it or not.

Jon had left the room, giving Niall time to think and clear his head. He wasn’t though. The barely legal man was staring out into the distance paying no attention to the door handle that was now jiggling. With a minor jolt, the door slammed open and three large individuals rapidly entered the room with guns drawn. He heard the screaming and noted the fast pace of the armed subjects. His quick thinking allowed him time to duck down behind the conference table and silence his ever-ringing cell phone.

His breathing was rapid, his heart was racing, and his mind was reeling. Wanting to leave but not wanting to potentially die, he was torn between fight and flight. He heard the jeers from the men in the room. “Come out, come out where ever you are. It’s time to follow through on my promises.” ‘Holy shit, Jon was right’, he thought. Taking several steadying breaths, he began to crawl on his hands and knees down the length of the table, hoping he could get close to the door and make a run for it. As he reached the end, he heard the gun shots. Three in total and then a deafening silence. He heard the clicking of boot heels, the holstering of a weapon and then nothing.

Holding his breath, he shut his eyes praying the shooter wouldn’t find him. When a hand tightened around his bicep and began to force him to rise, he decided to lash out. Another firm hand wrapped around his left wrist and squeezed the pressure point there, making his balled up fist go limp. Suddenly, he was laid out on the office floor and felt another body lying on top of his. He heard a whisper in his ear, “Stay down until I tell you to, got it?” He didn’t reply. “I’m going to get you out of here but you have to trust me.” He nodded meekly.

The weight left his body and the boot heels clacked away quickly. He heard grunting and the sounds of punches and kicks landing on muscle. He turned his head to the fight and was astonished at what he saw. She must have been five foot seven wearing what looked like stiletto type boots. The pantsuit was straining in certain places but that didn’t hinder her. Her moves were lightning fast and they landed exactly where she wanted them to. “What the…” he called out. It distracted the experience female fighter and she looked his way. The large man she was fighting took this opportunity and wrapped his large hand around her throat and began to squeeze.

The male driven instinct to protect the female species kicked in and Niall all but flew off the ground to the man in an attempt to help the woman. She cried out, “No. Stay back.” Before he realized what had happened, the man was on the ground and cuffed. He swore he only blinked once. He stood there slack-jawed. She sauntered up to him and gently closed his mouth with her hand. Undoing the single button on her jacket, he noticed the holster on her hip and the rather large pistol occupying it. With only a strand or two of hair out of place, she looked rather well from brawling with three men twice her size. He was impressed.

She stood back admiring her handy work. He sized her up and clapped for her. Her face changed to that of a hardened veteran sizing up a newbie. “Niall James Horan?” He nodded. “Wait here.” She briskly strode off. He stood there watching the trussed up assailants. Worried that they might break free, he edged closer to the door. He was surprised to see his manager walk back in with a solemn look on his face. “I have something I need to tell you.”
Niall knew that look. “What’s wrong?” “Sit down first. You’re going to be angry but that’s ok. You needed this.” The young man was confused. The agent walked back in. She outstretched her hand and firmly shook his. “I’m US Deputy Marshall Leslie Armstrong and what you just saw was not real. These guys I beat up are my team and they were brought here to show you just how real the threat is. You and I are going to be attached at the hip until this thing blows over so get used to it.” His jaw dropped.

Trying to figure out what to say, he couldn’t find the words. “I know this is quite a bit to take in. I’m sorry it had to happen this way. You needed to see a possibility of what could happen if this person shows up and you needed to see that I am more than capable of protecting you. You’re going to get some training from me personally on firearms and close quarter combat. Don’t like guns? You’ll have to let that slide for now. Your life is on the line. You can’t be an amazing performer if you’re dead. I’m sorry for being blunt but that’s just how it is. Give me a few minutes to let my team go and we’ll go someplace private and talk.” Jon stepped up and patted his back. “You ok?”

Niall reared back as if to punch him and stopped himself. “You’re a right bastard. You know that?” “I truly am sorry. She’s the best. You’ll get a chance to meet her whole team. They will link up with the boys. Everyone’s going to get through this. I’m not going to let anything happen to you guys.” He sat on the couch and ran his fingers through his unkempt hair. Trying to take it all in and failing miserably. “This is real? I’m in danger? What about my family? What about my friends? What about the boys? I’m supposed to able to live my life during this break. Do things I normally can’t do while we’re recording and touring and doing photoshoots. Why me? Why now?” “Take a breath kid. It’s going to be alright. When she comes back, you guys will be going off. You’ll meet the team and learn the game plan. I won’t even know what’s going on. It’s safer that way. I won’t see you for a while but I know you’re in good hands.”

Jon walked off. He wanted to text the fellas; see if they knew anything. He decided against it and dropped on to the plush chair overlooking the skyline. He just needed some silence. He was determined to have some time to himself to process everything. He also decided he was going to assist in finding out who this person was and do everything in his power to stop whatever sick and twisted fantasies they might have. He refused to take this lying down. Psyching himself up, he didn’t hear the agent’s footfalls. When she made her presence known, he flew into action, not knowing it was her. Within no time, she had him pressed uncomfortably against the cool window pane with his right hand yanked back to the middle of his spine. “Nice reflexes but I’ll help you make them better.” She let go.

He turned. “What are you? Some inhuman super solider chick?” She laughed. “I’ll fill you in on my history, but first, we need to go. Come on, I’ve got us a secure passage out of here. The press will never know. He sighed in response but followed her to the door. She led him to a bank of elevators. Shortly after the ride, the doors opened to reveal a brightly lit garage sparsely filled with luxury cars. His jaw dropped. “Whoa, who is the lucky guy driving that ’67 Chevy Impala. That thing is cherry. Even the tint looks good.” She merely grinned. He heard the jingle of car keys and the agent clearing her throat. “It’s mine. If you’re good, you might get to drive it soon.” His eyes bugged out. She laughed haughtily. “Come on kid. We’ve got places to go, people to see, and lives to live.” Just hearing the engine roar to life made him grin from ear to ear. She thought to herself, ‘Who knew it would take a classic car to calm down a twenty-two year old?’