Please do all you can to support Nifty, as maintaining a domain is expensive and time consuming! This is a work of fiction, but wow do I wish it was real. All the best, Terry
Lifting weights today wasn't easy. While in my late 30's, I felt the years of tandem jumps and aggressive military drills. Every time I got that bar up, I could almost hear my gunnery sarge screaming. His neck and facial veins popping out, as he barked more orders, while all of us young men were committed to one of his sadistic runs. Now the music returned, as I put the bar back on the rack. Chagrined slightly, and my biceps burning, I knew it was treadmill time. It took more effort now, and while I intended on staying in shape for my bodyguard endeavors, there was some vanity of course involved. Standing in at 6'2, with a 32" waist, I was still very much in good shape. Drinking water by the mirrors, my high and tight brown hair was beaded with sweat. My blue eyes pierced the reflection looking back, as I was in Manhattan's elite club for those into the fitness scene.
The six minute miles were an arduous challenge. Yet I got through all five of them. Listening to the music on my Dre Beats headphones, this made the effort a bit more pleasant. Now a soaking mess, I got more water, and headed to the hot showers. In there after going to my locker, and securing my expensive electronics, that heat was providing some relief to my body. Soaping myself up I saw the grime going down the drain. This was another solid effort, so upon drying off, I put back on my briefs, athletic pants, and shirt that displayed the logo of my Nighthawk Security. Having created it two years ago, as my time with the marines ending, I was now set to get even more clients than I had previously. Revenue was steady as A and B listers called me, or more often their professional fixers. They knew of my background, experience, and also that I hired exemplary men and women to protect those who could afford it.
After a walk back to my office, Amy my administrative assistant, told me that "several calls were pending." Emails would be too, and my encrypted email server was temperamental sometimes. Checking through these quickly, I did see the handwritten post it note. Apparently there was to be an adult movie star event next week, and I was being asked by a Roger Baker, to personally protect one of his stars. Laughing to myself, this was an unusual event, as even he knew most of my assignments were designated to my subordinates. Yet as the owner, if he wanted to pay my hourly rate, that would increase the profit margin to my wallet. He had me take care of Sierra Foxy one week, and it all had gone according to plan. It was easy money, and only once or twice did I have to interact with an obsessed fan. These men stood no chance, as my famous right hook, Krav Maga and other martial arts, or my .45 Sig Sauer were quite able to handle just about anything.
Bodyguard work is an art. A lot of it is doing research on the venues and events. Also knowing who and what to look out for. Was it as insane as combat? No as I had seen things in Afghanistan and Iraq, that to this day I still can't explain with any form of language. There was no logic to it, and no matter if an urban or rural area, I could walk away unharmed or shot in the abdomen. My scars from military doctors showed a relatively lucky man, while sadly some of my men returned to Dover military base with an American flag draped coffin. All of us stood with our fellow soldier and friends families, and next year a bunch of us were planning a 5K to raise money for these soldiers children's college scholarships and more. Yet I knew Roger was impatient, so I called him to see what type of work he wanted me to handle for him.
As expected he was on some substance. My best guess was high grade cocaine, but with his role with everything from adult film stars to Hollywood actors, I could imagine this could alleviate his stress. While people admire the lifestyle, famous people often were targeted, harassed, or seemed to have a magnet that would bring truly crazy people their way. Roger was worked up, and he said one of his clients was being threatened by a man. I was correct. An ex boyfriend. Would I mind taking an assignment in Los Angeles, for a transgender adult film star named Ariel Demure? He or she in this case, wanted to be able to go to restaurants next weekend. Also there was an adult film event, where one of her scenes was to get an award.
This was an odd one. Money doesn't discriminate, and neither did I, because even though single I was bisexual but kept it very down low. It wasn't necessary, but to be in this business, sadly there still was discrimination. If this and a lot of my other private life became public knowledge, then that could theoretically diminish my business opportunities. Yet I smiled as getting $25,000 for a weekend with a hotel and expenses was musical gold to my hearing. He had expected a "yes," and in a few moments I submitted him the contract electronically. Fifteen minutes later my airplane tickets, and 75% of the money was in my bank account. I let Amy know of this, as she was the de facto boss when I was out of town. Most of my folks did their New York City events well, but I believed strongly in accountability and delivering results. My team was handpicked, and all were former military. They had to go through my training school, and were well compensated for their knowledge, experience, and their abilities in providing protection.
For some reason I wasn't familiar with Ariel, although Roger sent me what we call a dossier. This showed what the client wanted, along with information on their background, and what some of their favorite hangouts and activities were. Ariel Demure was quite pretty and very feminine. Apparently she was 5'8 and 135 pounds, with her long hair being a multitude of colors. Going to the web I checked out some of her work, and had to smile as she got my blood boiling a bit. Yet I had to keep that out of sight and mind, so that I could do what I needed to do for this paycheck. Rolling out of the office, after seeing Amy's list for our folks to handle, I decided to get dinner at my favorite Italian restaurant. Mario's had been around for generations, and their chicken parmigiana was the best. A nice relaxing meal as the piano player hit the keys, and the glass of wine and small piece of tiramisu made me a happy man.
Back in my apartment, I had to take care of a few tasks on my computer. The schedule for all assignments was up, and this was going to be a busy week. My top specialist Tom would be with Anthony, for John Travolta who was flying into New York on his custom 707. He was an eclectic yet thoroughly intelligent man, and although a joy to work for, he was known for spontaneous enthusiasm. Quite often a trip to one of the city's best restaurants, would then add up to excursions at high end stores. To his credit he also usually did something for area children hospitals. Some of my other folks were in training too, as time for getting their licenses from Albany were going to happen. Marsha my compliance coordinator, would get them squared away. I was off to a deep sleep, and would remain in that zone for nine hours in bed.
All the while the city never sleeps. Eventually Thursday I showed up, at JFK to check in my firearm. Sometimes it helps to know people, and a port authority police officer got my equipment expedited. As usual the paperwork was arduous, but I got all taken care of, and went to the Delta Lounge. There I got a couple croissants and a cup of subpar coffee. The 787 Dreamliner was an aircraft I had been on previously, and while first class for this flight wasn't great, it certainly offered more legroom than coach. Upon boarding I was led to my nice chair, and I didn't have to worry about missing luggage. I smiled thinking of military flights with jumps, or when traveling in a C5 to hear an engine shut off. Also I half grinned reminiscing over the coach flights, in the middle of the night, as my company literally was getting its wings.
The flight attendants did their safety displays, and the familiar mid west accent of the pilot advised of our expected landing time and LA weather conditions. It seemed to be a serene flight plan, although going against the jet stream could occasionally cause turbulence. As expected I sat back and watched the window, as takeoff was smooth and fast. Tons of equipment and people in the air, as I watched the tall buildings get small. Clouds appeared and I opened my book about Abraham Lincoln. This was the best way to decompress prior to any assignment, and I had already been through my clients dossier. I was ready to hit the ground running, when at LAX, but now was time for a fairly decent meal and reading history that always intrigued me. Six hours and a half provided this quality time.
To be continued.