The place was beautiful, deathly quiet, and I felt like a slug sliming across Leonardo da Vinci's Mona Lisa. I don't belong in this opulent world of white custom-made sofas, trendy seagrass throw pillows, marble statues, and the carpet so luxurious that each step of my grimy sneakers sank an inch in its softness. I realize I should have removed them before entering the house, but it didn't occur to me until now.

"Hello?"

My voice was harsh in the eerie quietness.

"Hello," I repeated. "I'm here on behalf of Trevor Stansfield."

No answer.

"The owner," I added in case whoever might hear me would understand my legitimacy. "Mr. Hendrix, are you here?"

Trevor Stansfield, my uncle, is a wealthy man. I hadn't heard from him in several years after I refused to work for his corporation, Stansfield Technologies, and chose instead to pursue a military career in the Army Rangers. Until yesterday.

I'm home on leave for Christmas visiting Mom, Dad, and Missy, my sister. We were enjoying dinner and stories about our Christmas shopping experiences when the phone rang. I got up to answer.

"Charlie, I heard you were home. Welcome back."

I recognized his voice and smiled. Our last conversation hadn't gone well, and I've felt bad about it ever since.

"Uncle Trevor. It's good to hear from you. Are you going to come for Christmas?"

"I hope I can, but just in case I've sent my gifts by courier. They should be there tomorrow. But I'm calling for another reason, Charlie. I need a favor from you."

"Sure. What do you need?"

"I am leasing a house near San Antonio to a friend of mine, and I think something is wrong. He's missed two month's payments, and I haven't been able to reach him by phone. He's never refused to return my calls before. We're good friends. I could call the police, I suppose, but I would have to explain everything, and that is just TMI. You're in Houston, and it's only a three-hour drive for you. Could you go check on things for me? I'm sure it's nothing. He's just been away for a while."

"I'll be happy to check on him for you. Are you concerned about the money or his safety?"

"He's a friend, and he's wealthy. The money doesn't matter much."

"Okay. Missy is out of school for the holiday. I think she and I could take a road trip together. It'll be fun."

There was a pause on the phone, and I could hear him breathing.

"Charlie, maybe taking Missy along might not be a good idea. What if he's hurt?... or dead? That could be traumatic for her."

I knew there was more, but he stopped talking. What was he not telling me? If he thinks I should do this alone, I will accept his word. He gave me the address, the code for the front door lock, and the security code for the alarm system.

So here I am in a luxury house right off the River Walk. A veneer of Christmas cheer has seized the city. Each house on the block is decorated with twinkling lights, colorful ribbons, and tinsel.
But not this house. There is no cheerfulness. No sign of the season at all. The house feels vacant, and it seems some ominous spirit within it resents my intrusion. There is no sign of occupancy in recent days or even weeks. It shouts you don't belong here. Get out before you contaminate me. But that's just my mind interpreting the eeriness I feel.

I search through the house but found no sign of Mr. Hendrix, my uncle's friend. The large living area incorporates a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the River Walk, and I stop to glance at the parade of people on the concrete walkways on both sides of the river. Exiting through a nearby door to the balcony I watch the activity. The noise of the cheery crowds, the smell of coffee, popcorn, and cotton candy assaults my senses. Kiosks selling pens, cameras, home-made crafts, and other items line both walks. Restaurants with seatings at various levels host people eating, drinking, and talking as they watch the passersby. Boats decorated with lights and streaming flags picturing Santa, elves, reindeer, and Christmas wishes carried tourists up and down the river. One even transported a choir singing Christmas carols.

I feel someone behind me like a soft breeze tingling my neck.

As I jerk around, a soft feminine voice embraces my ears.

"It's wondrous... this time of year... isn't it?"

I am too stunned to answer. Gliding to the rail beside me is a woman unnaturally beautiful. Too flawless to be real. Her face is smooth with a hint of Asian heritage, a soft smile radiates a warmth that heats the blood in my veins. Silky long, black hair hangs below her shoulders, and her figure... I real in my thoughts... is appealing.

Several moments pass before she asks, "Do you speak English?"

Surprised by the question I nod, and her smile broadens revealing perfect white teeth. "You don't agree that the Christmas season is a wondrous time of the year?"

"No... I mean yes, it's wondrous. I just wasn't expecting..."

My brain functions again. Who is she? I thought... no one... I know the house was empty.

"Who are you?"

She extends her hand and said, "I am Neisha... Neisha Long."

"No. I mean What are you doing in here? Do you know Mr. Hendrix?"

"Ah. A two-parter. Or is it a three? First, I'm Neisha Long," she holds out her hand again, and this time I take it.

The brief bob of our hands titillates the senses throughout my body. The simple touch feels like... as Dr. Phil would say... a pivotal moment in my life.

"Second, no, I don't know Mr. Hendrix. There is no Mr. Hendrix. At least not one that your uncle knows. Third, what I'm doing here is meeting you. Your uncle, my godfather, sent me here to offer you a second chance to work for him."

Well, this is different.

While I am still gawking in shock, she comments, "I can see you weren't expecting this. Your uncle asked me to meet you here, and he is such a sweet old man. How could I refuse?"

A sweet old man? Trevor Stansfield?

"My uncle, Trevor Stansfield asked you to meet me here? And you knew it was a subterfuge? That Mr. Hendrix doesn't exist?"

My skepticism made the volume of my voice a little louder than it should be.

"You're scaring me, Charles."

"How do you know my name?"

"He told me. Now quit cross-examining me. You're making it sound like I'm here dishonestly. He asked me to come here to meet you."

I felt a chill in my chest, and a pang of guilt. The deception was not her's but my uncle's.

"Sorry..." I fumble, confused. "I guess you just... surprised me. I wasn't expecting anyone. I thought the house was empty."

"I think it is. I followed you in. I waited in the car until you arrived."

My thoughts began to organize themselves, and I relaxed a bit. This was a set-up. She wasn't a figment of my imagination. There are no ghosts, or supernatural events going on. She is real. Awesomely real.

"I don't understand why my uncle..."

"He wants you to work for him. He thinks your work as an army ranger is just what he needs."

"Why didn't he ask me when he called? Why...."

She answered before I could finish the question.

"He wanted you to see this place. If you agree to work for him, this is yours. It's paid for. There would be no mortgage."

"Hell, I can't even pay the taxes on this place."

"Maybe not with your army salary, but you would work for Stansfield Technologies. I'm sure you could well afford it. Why don't you call him?"

Damn what a set-up. A beautiful woman, a lavish apartment, maybe a pot of gold in the bedroom closet. A temptation worthy of the devil himself. An impressive show is always better than a simple tell.

"Neisha, can I offer you a cup of coffee? If he's enticing me with this place, I'm sure he won't mind me using the kitchen."

"You're not going to call him?"

"I will. But I think coffee first. Need to be alert before I talk with that crafty son-of... sorry... man. You didn't answer me. Would you like coffee?"

"You know, you've been less than cordial since I've been here. Suspicious even. Is it me? Have I done something wrong?"

Frowning, I wondered how to answer.

"I'm sorry. I know I've been rude. When Uncle Trevor asked me to come here, he warned me not to invite my little sister along. He said I might find something she shouldn't see, so I pictured walking into something bad. Like a dead Mr. Dixon. But I find the house empty. Then the most beautiful woman I have ever seen surprises me."

I paused in my explanation and see a blush cover her cheeks.

"Sorry to be so blunt, but I felt tongue-tied when I saw you. I think you must have interpreted my reaction as surly. Unapproachable. I'll admit it nonplussed me. I thought I was alone. Then you give me Uncle Trevor's message, and I think you're part of his set-up. He's offered me a job before, you know."

Her eyes narrowed in anger.

"I am not a gift to you. I'm not a prostitute. I'm simply doing my godfather a favor."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean... I know you're not..."

She turned and began to walk away.

"Wait. Please."

She continued toward the front door.

"I guess that's a no to the coffee?"

When she turned to look at me, I flinched at the angry daggers flashing in her eyes.

"I'm sure I can find something stronger if you prefer. Add a little ice maybe to cool you down?"

Her brow crinkled in a frown, "You are the biggest... jackass... I've even seen."

"But I make great coffee. Please stay."

She turned away, "I can make my own coffee," and she walked out the door.

I just stood there staring at the closed door like a puppy watching its master leave the house. I didn't allow myself to whine.

The scream came just as I was turning toward the kitchen for the coffee. I've heard screams like that before. It was a scream of terror. I ran and threw the front door open and saw Neisha being dragged toward the open side door of a van.

Rushing out, I noticed a gun point out the window of the front seat and did a jumping forward roll as the shot parted the air in a whistle above my head. As I came out of the roll, I punched the attacker hard in the head. He lost his grip on Neisha, and I pulled her to the ground as a second shot rang out. The attacker ran back to the van holding his ear, and it sped off.
Standing, I helped her to her feet.

"Are you hurt?"

She trembled and tears ran down her face, but she shook her head.

"You know, a good cup of coffee always settles me down after I've just avoided a kidnapping."

A look of incredulity crossed her face before she nodded and smiled.

Inside, I helped her to a seat in the kitchen.

"Did you recognize any of those guys?"

"No. I've never seen them before."

I prepped the coffee maker.

"You sit there and relax. I'll bring you a cup as soon as it's ready. While it's brewing, I'll call the police. I noticed two security cameras outside. I must find where the recorder is before the police get here."

I got a glass and drew some filtered water from the refrigerator and placed it on the table in from of Neisha.

"You wait here, and I'll search for the recorder."

It took ten minutes to find it on a shelf in the master bedroom closet. As I stepped back into the kitchen, I chuckled at a thought.

"When the cops get here, they'll want to see some ID. We'll have to explain what we're doing in this place. I should get Uncle Trevor on the phone to explain it."

The coffee had finished perking, and I got two cups from the cabinet.

"Cream? Sugar?"

"No, I'll take it black. I need all the caffeine stimulation I can get?"

"Do you have any idea why those guys wanted to kidnap you?"

She took the cup from me and with a rueful smile she asked, "You mean other than rape or ransom?"

"Yeah, right. Stupid question. Are you wealthy? Do you have any secrets they might want to get from you?"

"I don't have enough money for them to go to this trouble, and I have no important secrets that'd be worth their while. Do you think they were here for me? What about you? Could they have come for you?

"Can't think why they would."

I placed a call to Uncle Victor from the phone on the kitchen counter. It took a couple of minutes to get though the receptionist and secretary before I reached him. I had just finished explaining what had happened when the policemen knocked on the door.

"Uncle Victor, you need to stay on the line a minute, and gather some papers to show you own this place. I don't want to go to jail for unlawful entry."

After brief questioning of Neisha and myself, one officer talked with Uncle Trevor, and moments later looked at text messages on his phone. It had to contain some proof of ownership.
When the call ended, I led the officers to the video recorder, and Neisha stayed with them as they reviewed the tape. I walked back into the kitchen to call Uncle Trevor.

"Charles, they came after Neisha sooner than I expected. I'm glad you were there. You can't repeat what I tell you, and I can't tell you everything until you agree to work for me."

"Uncle Trevor, I have a job. One I'm proud of and good at."

"I know you are, and that's why I need you. But we can discuss this later. First, Neisha still isn't safe. These guys don't give up that easily."

"Who..."

"Wait. Let me finish. The master bedroom of the house you're in is a panic room. There's a button under the shelf of the headboard you can push to lock it down. Steel doors and shutters slide over the door and windows, and the walls are reinforced with six inches of concrete covering three inch steel plates. Food and water are stored in cabinets in the bathroom. An emergency generator is housed in a restaurant below you on the riverwalk, and the owner will guard the entrance. That's in case they cut the power to the house. There's a satellite phone under the bed operational through an antenna constructed through the reinforced ceiling."

"Uh..."

"Wait, there's another thing you need to know. A weapons storage room is behind a hidden door in the closet. The automatic weapons, handguns, flash-bangs, bullet-proof vests are state-of-the art, built by one of my companies for the military. You'll know how to use them."

Screeching tires pulled my attention to the front of the house.

"Hold on. Something's happening outside."

I didn't wait for a reply and slammed the phone on the counter and ran to the window. Armed men emerged from two vehicles. Four men from each. I didn't have to yell to alert them. The two cops came into the living room at the sounds. They pulled their side-arms as we watched the men surround the house.

"Hold on. Don't engage. They've got heavy firepower, and we can't match it. Follow me."

Neisha was just emerging from the back room when I grabbed her hand and led her and the officers to the master bedroom. I found the button under the headboard and pushed it. The steel plates rolled into place just as I heard them crash through the doors and windows.

One cop protested, "Wait, how are we..."

I searched under the bed and found the satellite phone.

"You can call it in," and I held the phone out to them.

As one of them made the call, I took Neisha's hand.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm confused. What's going on? Who are those guys?"

The other officer listened, wanting to know the same thing.

"I don't know. I have to call Uncle Trevor to find out."

The officer who placed the call said, "Reinforcements will be here any minute. I'm keeping the line open to hear their progress."

Within minutes we heard gunfire and commands being issued from authoritative voices. We waited a few minutes more. No more gunfire sounded.

"I think it's safe to get out of here. Why don't you open the doors?" one officer said.

I pushed the button again, and we cautiously stepped outside. Seven of the eight gunmen were kneeling with their hands behind their heads. The eighth lay on the ground with blood flowing from a wound to his temple. Ten or more cop cars blocked both sides of the street. A team of swat officers in full riot gear held assault rifles on the cuffed men as they were led away.

A police lieutenant came up.

"I need the two of you to come downtown and fill out a police report and answer a few questions."

"Lieutenant, I know little about what happened here, but I hope to get answers when I finish my call to Trevor Stansfield. We'll come right down after that."

"I'll have an officer wait here with you, and you can follow him."

"Fine."

Neisha and I walked back into the house, and I picked the phone off the counter.

"You still there?"

"Yeah. I heard all the commotion."

"We will have to go to the police station to make a report. I have no idea what to tell them."

"I'll have one of our attorneys there when you arrive to help you make the report. He can tell them all they need to know. You and Neisha watch your backs. Even there. Call me as soon as you return to the house."

"The place has some heavy damage. It will be a little drafty."

"I'll have it taken care of. Call me."

Three hours later we walked back into the demolished house.

"I need to call my father to let him know I'm all right. He works for your uncle, and he'll know something has happened."

"Yeah, go ahead. And I need to call my folks too when you're finished."

"Do you know what this is all about?"

"No. Uncle Trevor only told me you are in danger. Whoever these guys are, they're after you. I don't know why."

Tears came to her eyes, and she lowered her head and covered her face with her hand. I looked at her and wondered what to do. I'm not good with sympathy. I patted her shoulder twice. Well, she didn't shrug my hand off at least. But she didn't stop crying either.

"Can I get you a Kleenex... or a towel?"

She looked at me with tears brimming in her eyes.

"You're really socially retarded, aren't you?"

"Well, the rangers I hang around with don't cry. I think it's a rule."

She ignored my comment and picked up the phone. While she spoke with her father, I emptied and rinsed the pot and brewed more coffee.

After she returned the phone to the base, she said, "He wanted to come get me. I told him I was all right. You would protect me. Thank you. For both times."

"Socially retarded jackass that I am, I know something about fighting. You're welcome."

I felt awkward sitting there with her eyes staring at me in this intimate moment. Did she want me to say something else? Do something else? Would I be taking advantage if I walked over and kissed her? Would a princess ever really kiss a frog?

"My uncle wants me to call him now that we're back at the house. What's he gotten me into?"

I waited for a moment to see if she would comment. Does she know more than she's telling me? Her red eyes just stare back at me. Then she glanced at the brewing coffee.

"It'll be ready in a minute. Pour yourself a cup while I make the call."

With the phone in my hand, I wondered whether I should talk to him alone. It doesn't seem right to have secrets between us, so I sat in a chair next to hers as I dialed his number and pushed the speaker button.

When he was on the phone, I asked, "Uncle Trevor will you please tell me what's going on here? Who are these people trying to kill us? Why are they after Neisha? Why did you want me to come to an empty house and tell me to look for someone who doesn't exist?"

"I know I have a lot to explain Charlie, but believe me, I didn't think they would move this quickly."

My irritation caused the words to be harsh, "Who's doing this? And why?"

Neisha placed her hand on my arm to calm me.

"I will tell you all that I can. Just listen. My firm has a cyber security contract with the government. We've detected a terrorist threat, but they backtracked us and know who we are. Which means they have some sophisticated equipment and hackers. They can't hit us directly because we have military personnel stationed around the building at all times. There is also a marine post just minutes away with a deployment team always on standby. The terrorists have researched our top officials, however, and they know how vulnerable our families are to kidnapping and ransom. They have targeted Neisha. She needs protection, and I need you to do it."

"Why? Can't the marines do it?"

"I... I know you, and I trust you. They're good men, but their families are vulnerable too. And some might be susceptible to bribes. I need a man or team that has no direct attachment to us."

"Uncle Trevor I have a job. I'm not ready to retire from my service."

"There's a benefit to contracting with the government. I'm sure I can get you... perhaps even your entire squad... reassigned to temporary duty with us. Just until we eradicate this threat. At that point you can go back to your regular duties, or it's my hope you'll see how much I need here you and come to work for me."

"Let me think about..."

"There's no time for that. As you have experienced this morning, this threat is real and immediate. I need you now, and Keisha needs you. You have the combat and weapons background we need."

I wished now that Neisha wasn't listening to everything we were saying. I need time to think this thing out. With those beautiful eyes observing every expression and twitch I make...

Some skirmishes in Afghanistan where I felt we were all going to die is no comparison to the was pressure I was experiencing now. When I signed up, I knew there was always a change I'd die in combat. We all accepted that. A team of us standing side by side, willing to give it all defending our nation, was one thing. Being responsible for protecting an individual person, especially one I know, like, and lust after, is completely different. Can I protect her from a sniper at a thousand yards? A bomb in her car? Poison in her drink at a restaurant? If she dies, I fail.

She read my face as if I had spoken aloud, "I can take care of myself. Charles doesn't have to stay here for me. He can't protect me from everything. Besides, protecting the country is more important than guarding me."

"Neisha sweetheart, I didn't realize I was on speaker. You can protect yourself in normal times, but this situation is different. These are dedicated, trained killers after you, and it'll take a trained man to protect you. Charlie is the best. I've followed his career and talked to his superiors many times. They all agree that he's one of the best they've ever seen."

How the hell has he talked with my superiors? What I am trained for and do is secret. Uncle Trevor must have a lot of pull with the brass to get that information.

She took the phone off speaker, "Uncle Stan, he can't retire from the army just to take care of me. He's needed there, and I'm positive he wouldn't want to leave for me."

She turned her head to avoid seeing my expression. Or me to see her embarrassment at the conversation.

Now I really felt like a jackass. Why hadn't I just immediately said I'd stay? Whatever intimacy I might have gained with her has likely been shattered. I touched her arm hoping to rejoin the conversation. She stepped away.

"I need to speak to him."

She ignored me. "No..." There was a pause as she listened. She was frowning as she turned back to me. "He wants to talk to you."

"Charlie you can't leave Neisha's side. They'll be even more aggressive the next time."

"I know. I'll stay with her, but we can't stay here. Call me back on my cell."

I hung up the phone.

She crossed her arms, "I don't want you to have to..."

"You can tell me later. We have to go. It's dangerous to stay any longer."

Placing a hand on her back to get her moving, "Let's take my car. They may have identified yours."

There was a momentary reluctance, but then she came with me.

"What did Uncle Trevor tell you?"

"He told me I'd be safe with you, and if you agreed to stay, he could get you assigned to the marine post in Austin."

"Anything else?"

"Not much. He put my father on the phone, and he told me not to argue and to stay with you until we were safe again."

My eyes scanned all the traffic ahead and behind us.

My job overseas was to root out and destroy terrorists, and now it's in my own backyard. And personal. We were on the road for several minutes now before I realized I was driving the route I was familiar with. I was heading home.

"Neisha, I heard you call my uncle, Uncle Stan. I thought he was your godfather."

"He is. But I've called him Uncle Stan all my life. He's not really my uncle, but he and my dad have been best friends for years. You call him Uncle Trevor and I call him Uncle Stan. I guess it's our upbringing. Where are we going?"

A tension relaxed in my chest. We're not related. I'm attracted to her, there's no denying it. Am I too emotionally involved to be her bodyguard?

My cell phone rang as we drove. I handed it to Neisha. "Put it on speaker."

"Charlie, I'm calling from a secure line. Let's hope they still don't know who you are and have yours traced. Where are you?"

"I'm going to Houston. Back to Mom and Dad's house. Is there any chance they know who I am? Are Mom Dad and Missy safe?"

"I can't be sure what they know right now. If they make a thorough search, I'm sure they will find that I have a brother and can find where he lives, who his wife and kids are, and even where Missy attends school. The information is out there, and they've proven they have the skills and technology."

"Dammit, I need help. I need my squad. You said you might have them assigned here. Can you do that?"

"Yes, I'm sure I can. I do sensitive work for the Defense Department, and they're invested in protecting our data. Let me make some calls. Charles, you know that there are things I can't share with you under my contract with the government. But there's a chance I can have you assigned as a liaison for the DOD, giving you the clearance you need. Are you willing to let me do that?"

"Sure if you think they'd allow that. How quickly do you think I can have the squad reassigned?"

"I'll work on that first. If I can convince them of the urgency, I think I can get it done in a day or two."

"Good. I will call the sergeant of my squad to give him a heads-up. He can get everyone packed and ready to move. Uncle Trevor, please hurry. Call me back at the house."

"Wait, Charlie. Stop and buy some burner phones, and you call me back with one. Just in case."

"Will do."

I nodded for Neisha to end the call.

I kept the call to Sergeant Massy short. When I explained what was happening, he assured me the team would be ready.

I've got to discuss this with Neisha. She's a big part of what happens next, and she needs to be included in the planning.

"We're going to Houston? To your families' house?"

"Yes. I've got to warn them about what's going on. But you and I can talk about what to do from there. I don't plan to leave you out of planning our moves."

"Ours? You need not protect me Charles. I can stay with Dad. He has protection."

"Okay if that's best for you. Once I've warned my family, I can take you to the office in Austin. There'll be protection there. I'll stay with my family until my squad is here. Then I can leave two guys to watch over them while I visit my uncle to see what's going on. Does that sound okay?"

She nodded and turned to stare out the window at the empty fields we were passing.

"You know, I'd like to see you from time to time. As long as I stick around."

"I'm sure I'll see you in the office. I do contract work for them and come by two or three times a week."

"I was thinking a little more than a casual hello. Like a few hours at a time. Get to know you better."

She turned her mesmerizing blue eyes on me and smiled.

"How do you know I'm not involved with someone? Engaged, or even married?"

"Are you?"

She didn't answer for a long time, and the awkwardness was like I had just farted and she knew it

"I don't know if I like you Charles. You are nice sometimes then turn suspicious of me. You say crude things then apologize for saying it. Then you save me. I know you're an army ranger which I assume means you're very skilled. But in your line of work you hurt and even kill people."

"Only the enemy when necessary..."

"I'm not finished. I've never met anyone like you before, much less dated them. I don't know how I feel about what you do. I don't like violence."

When she stopped talking, I remained silent a moment.

"It was just a thought. I understand. I'mm... I'm sorry."