Page 60 of Protect Thy Enemy

It’s the second time things almost went past a point neither one of us could come back from.

“Morning, Williams,” Tate greets, sliding into the seat next to me. His easy smile cuts through my less-than-appropriate thoughts.

“Morning,” I reply, forcing a smile back.

“Rough start?” he asks, raising an eyebrow as he pours a criminally insane amount of sugar into his coffee.

“You could say that,” I mutter, taking a sip of my drink and avoiding the way Grant’s gaze flicks toward me. The movement is subtle, but I feel it like a static charge.

The morning stretches into eternity when Harris finally walks in, his commanding presence silencing the room. He drops a thick folder on the table and crosses his arms, his sharp eyes cutting across the three of us, noticing Park isn’t here yet.

“I told him to be on time,” Tate quips as Agent Park saunters in like he has all of the time in the world, taking a seat next to Agent D?i?c?k?h? Grant.

“We’ve got a new assignment,” Harris says, his tone clipped. “One that will require a significant amount of preparation. As you all know, the president will be attending the Paris Summit at the end of next month. We’ve received credible intelligence about a potential threat targeting the event.”

My stomach twists as he continues, outlining the gravity of the mission.

“We’re assembling two teams to go undercover,” Harris continues, his gaze landing squarely on me before shifting to Grant. “Grant and Williams, you’ll be posing as a married couple. Tate and Park, you’ll be surveilling them.”

His words are like a sudden jolt, throwing me off balance even though I’m seated.Married couple?

I can feel Grant’s reaction before risking a glance in his direction. A muscle in his jaw ticks, and though his expression remains calm, there is something dark in his eyes when he finally glances my way.

Harris gives us a moment to process the news, then continues, his tone brisk.

My eyes cut to Park, who’s staring at me with a blank expression. His words from that night play in my mind.

Do you know what you’re doing?

My stomach sinks as Harris’s words settle over the room. Married couple.

Of course.

I steal another glance at Grant, but he’s still looking at me. Though his expression is now unreadable. Sharp and tense, but the faint twitch of his jaw gives him away.

He’s pissed.

Harris doesn’t pause long enough for us to recover. “Shaw and Associates has accepted your cover identities. You’ll be moving into your assigned residential property this Thursday to familiarize yourselves with the area and each other’s routines. We can’t afford mistakes once you’re embedded.”

My gaze snaps back to Harris. “Residential property?”

“A townhouse,” he says matter-of-factly, flipping open the folder on the table. “It’s prepped to pass as your shared home. Park and Tate will be stationed in a surveillance house directlyacross the street, posing as another married couple. Their job is to run intel and provide backup.”

I barely have time to process the logistics before Tate interjects, leaning back in his chair with his signature nonchalance. “Let me guess, we’re the quirky neighbors who throw barbecues?”

Park doesn’t even blink. “I don’t grill.”

The corner of Tate’s mouth twitches, but Harris shuts down the humor with a curt wave. “Now is not the time for jokes. This isn’t a sitcom. You’re there to observe and step in if things go south.”

I shift uncomfortably in my seat. Married couple. Shared home. Routines. Every word from Harris makes the situation feel more intrusive, more dangerous.

Harris’s gaze sweeps back to Grant and me. “Williams, Grant, your cover identities are Andrew and Amelia Smith, former military contractors who now work exclusively as a team for high-profile clients. You’ve been married for six years and have a reputation for getting the job done discreetly.”

Grant’s voice is a low gravelly sound when he speaks, “What’s the timeline?”

“You’ll be embedded by Monday,” Harris replies, his eyes narrowing. “That gives you five days to learn everything about your cover identities, backgrounds, habits, quirks, the works. Shaw will test you at every turn. If they sense anything off, you’re done. And so are we.”

I glance at the thick file on the table, my pulse pounding in my ears. Five days.

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