There was a break in her training schedule, and she flew back into town to find her place lit only in candle light and a path of rose petals leading toward the dining room. When she entered the dining room, Hunter was there, on one knee, with a ring in his hand. She was so excited to see him that she didn’t notice the ring at first, and she missed entirely the home-cooked meal on the table and the travel agency documents for their trip to Antigua.
She ran forward and knelt in front of him. When she finally stopped kissing him and saw the ring in his hand, she didn’t wait for him to ask the question. “If that’s an engagement ring, the answer is yes!”
Hunter pretended to pout. “You mean I don’t even get to ask you?”
Jamie looked at him. “Don’t you think you should ask my father first?”
“Already did.”
Jamie smiled at him. “Then ask your question.”
“Jamie Michelle Anderson, will you marry me?” Hunter looked at her expectantly.
Jamie has a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Hmmmm. Maybe I should think about it first.”
They both laughed as Hunter grabbed her and pulled her over onto the floor. He put the ring on her finger, and she rolled onto her back and held up her hand as she stared at the ring.
Jamie smiled as she gazed at Hunter’s face in the photo, remembering the fun they had in Antigua. Her hand reached for the engagement ring, which she wore on a chain around her neck when she was teaching.
She glanced at the clock and saw what time it was. She stood, left the office, and finished getting the dojo ready for the first morning classes.
Emily sat in her glass-walled office on the top floor at SignalCorps’ headquarters, reviewing the contracts that Arthur Reynolds and Alfonso Berkshire had sent over that morning. Seeing nothing that concerned her, she signed the contracts on behalf of SignalCorps and set them aside.
Looking up, she noticed two striking women in their late twenties about to knock on her door. She gestured for them to enter her office, close the door behind them, and sit down.
Kaitlyn Devereaux, a dark-haired woman of Irish-French descent, and Amanda Rochelle, a brown-haired anglophile French Canadian, were the senior product specialists for the new surveillance system that SignalCorps was preparing for field-testing. They were also members of the Order. Emily had requested that they come see her that morning, so they sat down and waited for her to begin the meeting.
“How’s the new product doing?” Emily asked.
“Everything’s on schedule,” Kaitlyn answered. “Field-testing will begin next week.”
“That’s what I needed to talk to you about,” Emily interjected. She filled the two women in on the contracts she had just signed and the training that the Counter-Terrorism Committee wanted.
“The primary contractor has subcontracted all surveillance training to us, and we agreed to use the new system as part of that training,” she added.
“We’re going to train on a surveillance system that hasn’t been thoroughly field tested?” Amanda asked, shocked. “What if there are bugs? What if the system doesn’t perform as expected? It could hurt the reputation of the system before it’s even released. We’d never get that reputation back if word spread of any issues uncovered during the training.”
Emily nodded. “I’m aware of the risk, but the opportunity to have the system tested in a real world situation, coupled with the unprecedented reputation we could attain if the system works as we expect it to, is too great to pass up. But because there are risks, I’m assigning the two of you to the training initiative. That way, if any bugs or deficiencies are detected, it can be addressed by the two people with the most knowledge of how the system is supposed to work.”
Kaitlyn and Amanda looked at each other. “Is there a problem?” Emily asked.
“No, ma’am,” Amada answered for the two of them. “That’s actually a great idea. Will any engineers be assigned with us in case a problem turns out to be related to fabrication or specific components?”
“Yes,” Emily replied, reading off the names of two engineers from the list of SignalCorps resources assigned to the training initiative.
“What will our involvement be in the training?” Kaitlyn asked.
“You two will provide the initial product training on the new system, and then you’ll work with the surveillance trainers and the engineers to resolve any issues that are found during their part of the training. I know it goes without saying that the training we’re providing is highly classified. However, because the use of the system by the people we’re training will provide real-world proof of the system’s capabilities, I also want you to work with marketing, so once it’s time to release the system to the general public, we’ll have a marketing campaign that’s based on proven capabilities and not just speculation about what the system might be able to do.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the two specialists said.
“Are there any other questions?” Emily asked.
“Not at this time,” Amanda replied.
“All right.” Emily handed them the complete list of SignalCorps resources assigned to the initiative. “Start working with these folks to identify what they need and how you’ll need to interact with them to resolve any problems.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
It took Jamie longer than usual to lock up the dojo on Wednesday night. She had notes that she had to leave for Tobias and her instructors, and she had papers to print out so she could read them on the plane the next morning. The meeting with the combat martial arts masters was the next afternoon, and she wanted to be thoroughly familiar with contracts so she could help identify the training that they’d be required to deliver and the best way to leverage their limited resources.
By the time she had turned off the lights in the dojo, the parking lot was deserted, except for her car and two cars that she didn’t recognize, which were parked close to the street. As she locked the front door, she heard movement behind her.
Turning around, she saw seven men of various sizes and ages approaching her from different directions. Two held baseball bats, and the others held a mixture of pipes and tools. All of them appeared menacing as they approached her.
She looked around to assess the situation. There was no way that she could reach her car, use her phone to call the police, or slip back inside the dojo, without some sort of confrontation. The men were too close to her by this point. None of the men appeared to be carrying guns, so she decided not to reach for the pistol in her gym bag. I can handle these thugs.
As she placed her gym bag down, one of the thugs holding a baseball bat asked, “Are you the owner?”
“Yes.”
“You put a friend of ours in the hospital last week.”
“It wasn’t personal,” Jamie said calmly. “He was attacking one of my students. I don’t allow that.”
“You don’t allow? You busted him up!” the man bellowed.
“Maybe it’ll teach him to leave others alone,” Jamie responded. She steadied herself for the attack that she knew was coming.
“Maybe we’ll teach you not to interfere in our friend’s business.” He raised his baseball bat as he approached Jamie.
“And maybe I’ll teach you to choose better friends.”
Jamie