Andrew paced back and forth through the DHS office. How dare the boss volunteer his family for a mission without so much as a by your leave. Assuming everyone would drop their lives for them was going to stop. They would volunteer if the need met their criteria. Being told they would be riding herd on the Super Bowl was outrageous, especially after four of them had just been involved in tracing and tracking down the terrorist who was their biggest threat.
Huge risks had been taken, and even though the boss understood just how much the effort cost physically, he woke up to a demand that his entire family show up at Saint’s Stadium in New Orleans. He’d barely had time to sleep himself out, and now he was supposed to get back there from Montana in time to sit in pre-game briefings and drag his ass around the stadium because a paranoid idiot of a president demanded extra protection.
Did the asshole even begin to understand the risk if someone figured out what they were? They could never be safe again; they’d have to disappear. It was bad enough he did the job looking for terrorists and other criminal elements, using his special skills to peek into their minds. Dragging his daughter, Alanna, only fifteen, into the messes was insufferable. She took everything so much harder, being an empath and healer.
He wished he could turn back time and do things a different way. Fate had thrown them into battles far greater than anything DHS could imagine. And with that he made his decision.
He pulled out his phone and sent a text to the team lead for Super Bowl.
Not coming. Fire me I don’t care. We are not your puppets.
Family time and recovery were paramount. He had a personal mission tomorrow. Blaire and the boys were counting on him.