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His hand leaves mine in a blink and I stumble toward him as if I can draw his hand around my waist by sheer will power.
“You wanted to see what I do in a day?” He motions for me to follow him. “It won’t get more real than this.”
* * *
Clay leadsme back into the building, and I’m suddenly thrust into the middle of an action movie. The men who are running in a single-file line down the hallway aren’t dressed like Mr. P, Mr. J and the other guards who man my store.
Those guys wear black suit jackets, shiny shoes, and wire taps in their ears.
Theseguards are dressed in black boots, heavy trousers, and bulletproof vests. Plus, they’re bigger, younger, and have the same edge of danger that Clay does.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Clay is moving out his A-team.
But why? What’s worth all this fuss?
My heart pounds and I feel a moment of hesitation.What have I gotten myself into?
Clay speaks urgently into his cell phone. “Give me eyes, Andre.”
He listens intently and walks with purpose into what looks like an empty changing room. The lighting is dim and there’s a temperature control unit on the wall.
I wonder what all this set up is for and then I notice there are bullet proof vests hung up on specially-designed and extra-strength racks.
“Okay.” Clay reaches for a vest as he speaks to whoever this ‘Andre’ guy is. “Initiate Total Lockout. No one outside. No one on the ground. I don’t want casualties.” He pauses. Listens. Nods. “I’ll dispatch the Black Hawks. We’ll move out and assess on the ground.”
He hangs up.
I look at him with eyes that I’m sure are widening by the second. “Exactlywhatis going on?”
“Nothing.” Clay gently takes my hand and slides the armor over me. Despite how frantic the situation feels, his movements are tender and careful.
“Nothing?” I huff.
He turns me around so he can fix the back. “Affirmative.”
“Your A-Team’s moving out. You’re talking about casualties on the phone. And now you’re putting a body vest on me and you expect me to buy that?” I turn and grip his hand as he’s strapping me up.
Blue eyes meet mine with a force that nearly knocks me off my feet. “Island, this isn’t your world.”
“I know. I know I’m just a hair braider and I can’t help you out there.”
“If you know then why ask?” He grunts.
“Because if you can trust me with your kids, then you can trust me with this.”
He purses his lips. Shakes his head. Zips me up tightly. “There’s a warehouse a few miles north of here that stores very dangerous chemicals.”
“What kind of chemicals?”
He stops. Looks me dead in the eyes. “The kind that can start a bio-nuclear war.”
I blink and blink and blink.
Of all the things I’d expected him to say, it wasn’t that.
“Our company was hired to provide private security to this facility.”
My jaw hits the floor. “So this is a matter ofnationalsecurity?”