Catching my breath in Bahrain

"Pull up right over there on the tarmac, not far from the plane," I said, pointing toward the sleek aircraft parked under the open sky.

Ronan glanced sideways at me, his fingers tightening slightly on the wheel as he eyed the surrounding perimeter. "You're sure about leaving the car right out in the open like this?"

"Positive," I assured him with a calm smile. "Airport security is going to take care of the vehicle while we're away."

Ronan nodded, easing the car into a stop about fifty yards from the plane wing before shutting off the engine. The quiet hum of the dashboard died down, replaced by the muffled roar of jet engines in the distance. We both hopped out into the warm tarmac air and walked around to the trunk, popping it open to pull our bags out.

As I pulled my suitcase out of the trunk, my eyes caught a familiar figure standing near the mobile perimeter line. Marlon was wearing a crisp, dark airport security uniform. I caught his eye and gave him a subtle nod. Getting him onto these grounds was no small feat—back in both Russia and Italy, he carries a heavy criminal record, and half the local authorities here in Canada would love nothing more than to throw him in a cell. But against the odds, I’d managed to pull all the right strings and get him exactly where we needed him. Thankfully, he is here under my name as the Prime Minister and will be protected under my name, but just for this trip. The Canadian government was very hesitant to allow him here, but with my vouching for him, they allowed him.

We closed the trunk and walked together toward the boarding stairs. A small team of Customs agents was stationed right on the tarmac, equipped with mobile scanners to verify each passenger.

"Passports, please," one of the agents said politely as we approached.

Ronan and I pulled out our diplomatic passports and handed them over. The agents swiped them through the reader, checked the digital displays, and offered a professional nod before handing them back. "You're all set. Safe travels."

"Thank you," I replied, tucking my passport securely into my jacket.

Ronan nodded his head as he pocketed his passport.

We made our way up the steps and into the cabin. As soon as we stepped inside, we were warmly greeted by the cabin crew, as well as three tall, vigilant security officers standing near the galley. Barb had handpicked all three of them specifically for this assignment, knowing exactly what kind of backup I might need.

Ronan immediately stepped closer to the head of the security detail, his brow furrowed with unconcealed concern. "Are you sure that the three of you are going to be enough for this? Given the circumstances, I want to make sure every angle is covered."

"Relax, Ronan. We're going to be perfectly fine with just the three of us. This is a four-day trip max. And if I’m being completely honest with you...we're a lot safer traveling with the Prime Minister than she is with us. Her skills in security outmatches ours in a heartbeat."

Ronan stared at him for a second, clearly not put at ease by the reassurance. I couldn't help myself—I let out a soft chuckle and shook my head.

"Come on, Ronan," I said lightly, nudging his shoulder. "Let's find our seats."

We showed our boarding passes to the flight attendant standing near the aisle. She checked the seat numbers, handed the tickets back with a pleasant smile, and said, "Welcome aboard. Enjoy your flight."

"Thanks," Ronan muttered, still mulling over the security guard's comment.

We navigated down the aisle just a hair as we located our seats and lifted our bags into the overhead bin before closing it shut. Over the next thirty minutes, the rest of the two hundred passengers streamed in, filling up the remaining seats, stowing away their carry-ons in the overhead bins, and settling in for the journey.

Before long, the cabin doors were sealed shut. The plane taxied out onto the runway, built up speed, and lifted gracefully into the clouds. Within twenty minutes, the seatbelt sign chimed, and we were smoothly cruising high in the air.

Ronan leaned back against his headrest, turned his head toward me, and unbuckled his seatbelt slightly to get comfortable.

"Alright," Ronan asked, leaning closer so his voice wouldn't carry across the aisle. "How long is this flight, exactly? And how much of a layover are we looking at when we land?"

I adjusted my seat, looked over at him, and answered calmly, "It's going to be a fourteen-hour direct flight."

Ronan gulped, his eyes widening slightly as the full weight of fourteen uninterrupted hours in the air hit him.

"Barb picked this particular plane out. It has the safest rating," I said, settling comfortably into my leather chair. Then, with a casual glance toward the window, I added, "By the way, you’ll have a new vehicle when we get back. Look out the window."

Frowning in confusion, Ronan leaned over and peered down through the oval pane glass. Down below on the tarmac, right where we had parked only minutes ago, a bright column of black smoke billowed into the afternoon sky. His vehicle—parked exactly where he had left it—was completely engulfed in vibrant orange flames.

He stared at the blaze for a long, silent beat, his face a picture of stunned disbelief.

"A newer car will bring higher insurance rates," he muttered dryly, leaning back into his seat without breaking his deadpan composure.

"You’ll have the same rates as before," I said smoothly, leaning over to adjust my air vent. "I had this planned out as well. By the time that the insurance is done with the investigation, they will see that it was a self-implosion and as an act of the Vehicle Gods."

Ronan turned his head slowly to look at me, squinting. "How do you know this?"

"Trust me on this," I replied with a wry smile. "Oh, go through your bag and find the packaging for compression socks. They’ll help prevent against blood clots and DVTs. Walking around the plane is also beneficial on a journey this long."

Ronan reached down under his seat, pulled his personal bag onto his lap, and unzipped the front pocket. He pulled out a neat plastic package containing a pair of snug, charcoal-gray socks.

"Are you wearing compression socks?" Ronan asked, eyeing the package dubiously before glancing down at my footwear.

"I am wearing one of a handful custom made pair but it’s hard to tell," I explained as I pinched the high tech weave and pulled a little bit. "They're custom-fitted for pressure point relief and circulatory support as well as my skin tone. As you can see, I can wear shorts but I can also wear skirts, dresses or even pants over them."

Ronan chuckled softly, shaking his head as he unwrapped his pair. "A burning car, the Vehicle Gods, and custom compression socks. Just another ordinary trip with you."

"Of sorts," I said, resting my head back against the cushion as the aircraft glided smoothly through the atmosphere. "You should put those socks on sooner rather than later."

Ronan let out a quiet sigh of agreement, tearing open the plastic packaging and unrolling the dark fabric. "Fair point. Fourteen hours is a long time."

Satisfied, I reached over to the side panel of my seat and pressed the recline button. The heavy leather chair smoothly leaned back, easing the tension in my lower back. The overhead cabin lights dimmed to a soft amber glow, and the low, steady vibration of the engines created a soothing background hum.

I shifted in my seat, adjusted my seat a bit so I was reclining a bit, pulled the blanket up over shoulders, and closed my eyes. Within minutes, the fatigue of the long prep and high-stakes arrangements washed over me, and I fell asleep.

I slept through dinner and breakfast services. About an hour before we were due to land, the flight attendants woke both myself and Ronan up.

Amber, one of the flight attendants, stepped up to my seat and motioned toward the front of the cabin. "Follow me," she said politely.

She led me to a private shower that I was able to use. Resting on a counter inside was a freshly pressed change of clothes.

"Barb sent clothes for you ahead of your arrival," Amber explained, pointing to the garments. "She also included a very lightweight scarf for you to use to cover your hair when you disembark."

"Thanks for letting me use the shower, Amber."

She nodded silently and left the room so I could have some privacy.

I turned toward the shower to turn it on, but only seconds later, there was a knock on the door. I recognized the rhythm of the knock immediately—it was Armand's. Armand is the head of my security detail.

“Come in,” I called out as I began to strip.

“Ma’am? You’re partially naked.”

“Yeah, Armand, I know,” I said as I continued to strip. “This isn’t the first nor the last time you’ll see me naked.”

“I don’t mind but you need to give me a heads up.”

“I need to?” I asked as I turned the water on. “Or should I?”

“Should.”

“Ok. So, what’s up?” I asked.

“Just a reminder to be quick as Ronan, Joel, Roger and I want to shower and dress in fresh clothes before we land….which is in about an hour.”

“I’m well aware, Armand. I can’t enter Bahrain dressing how I normally dress,” I said. “Not only do I fear that I smell like sweat and airplane, I need to show respect by wearing an ankle length linen skirt, a linen shirt that covers my shoulders, collar bone and my elbows and though not required, but I’d like to have clean hair so I can put a scarf over my hair.”

“Understood, ma’am.”

“Is that all? I’d love to take a shower and be ready before there’s no time for you guys to shower.”

Armand nodded and left as I hopped into the shower. I could smell the scent of bleach as I got into the shower stall. I washed my hair twice and let the conditioner soak into my hair as I washed my body with a hotel sized bar of soap. As I washed my body, I made a mental note to ask Amber what brand of shampoo and conditioner were in the pumps attached to the shower wall. I rinsed off the soap after scrubbing myself twice and rinsed the conditioner out of my hair. After turning off the water, I grabbed a towel to towel dry my hair followed by my body. I found a little basket that I thought was for used towels rather than garbage.

Barb was too good to me when she sent my clothes ahead. She packed a hair brush, deodorant/antiperspirant, toothpaste and toothbrush as well as cotton panties. I brushed my teeth then my hair, dressed, applied the deodorant/antiperspirant and made adjustments to my clothes before packing up my dirty clothes and my Eastern style sandals in the same bag that Barb sent my clean clothes in. On my way out, I slid on some Western style sandals and grabbed the scarf.

When I opened the door, Ronan, Roger, Joel and Armand were in line just outside. Armand gave me a look that said: “That took enough time!” I winked at him and headed back to my seat. I opened up the overhead bin and shoved the bag into my suitcase before shutting the overhead bin door closed. I sat down and got as comfortable as I could with twenty minutes to spare before landing.

I have no idea how Ronan, Roger, Joel and Armand all showered one by one, dressed in fresh clothes and sat back in their seats three minutes prior to us landing at the Bahraini airstrip.

The seatbelt sign chimed above us, and the cabin lights adjusted to full brightness for arrival. Outside the window, the sunlit expanse of the Arabian Gulf gave way to the pale, golden coastline of Bahrain. As the wheels touched down on the runway, a gentle bump rattled through the fuselage before the plane settled into its reverse-thrust deceleration.

Once the aircraft came to a complete stop, I unclasped my seatbelt, stood up, and opened the overhead bin to retrieve my bags, while the men retrieved theirs from their respective bins. I arranged the lightweight scarf over my hair, tucking the end loosely over my shoulder. Armand, Joel, and Roger collected their weapons and gear and immediately fell into standard escort formation around me, looking impeccably sharp and fully alert, while Ronan walked three steps behind us.

The cabin door hissed open, allowing the intense, dry warmth of the Middle Eastern air to sweep into the air-conditioned cabin. As we stepped out onto the tarmac, we were greeted by King Hamad bin Isa Al Khalifa and his retinue: Salman bin Hamad Al Khalifa, Nasser bin Hamad Al Khalifa and Khalid bin Hamad Al Khalifa.

"Your Majesty," I said, stepping forward with a warm, respectful smile. "It is a pleasure to see you again. Thank you for welcoming us to Bahrain."

"The pleasure is entirely ours, Prime Minister," King Hamad replied warmly. "Welcome. I trust your long flight was comfortable?"

"Very comfortable, thank you," I replied.

I then extended verbal greetings to Salman bin Hamad Al Khalifa, Nasser bin Hamad Al Khalifa, and Khalid bin Hamad Al Khalifa, each greeting me in return with smooth diplomatic warmth.

"Allow me to introduce the team traveling with me," I said, gesturing toward the men behind me. "This is Armand, Roger, and Joel—they are my security detail. And this is Ronan, my driver."

King Hamad, Prince Salman, Prince Nasser, and Prince Khalid stepped forward and shook hands with Armand, Roger, Joel, and Ronan, offering brief words of welcome to each of them.

"Please, right this way," King Hamad said, gesturing toward the nearby customs terminal where Customs officers stood waiting.

We walked together over to the station. Ronan, Armand, Roger, Joel, and I pulled out our diplomatic passports and handed them over to the waiting Customs agents. The agents reviewed the documents, logged the entries into their system, and returned the passports with polite nods. Within minutes, all five of us were officially cleared to enter.

As Ronan, Armand, Roger, Joel, and I pocketed our passports into a secure spot on our bodies, we were escorted to a vehicle.

"You will be joining me in my car as we head to Riffa Palace," King Hamad said as we walked toward the vehicle. "From there, if you need or want to travel, Ronan will be your driver. However, Ronan should have applied for a Bahraini driver's license, but this time it will be forgiven as you are an honored guest."

Ronan paled. I patted his shoulder to provide some comfort before speaking up.

"I apologize, Your Majesty," I said. "I was the one who rushed Ronan's diplomatic passport and completely forgot to ask him to apply for a temporary Bahraini driver's license."

"I completely understand."

"Thank you, Hamad," I said. "Who shall I be staying with during my stay?"

The King nodded his head in understanding. "You will be staying with my wife, Princess Sabika bint Ibrahim Al Khalifa," he added.

"And what about my security detail?" I asked.

"It is forbidden for men to spend the night with women who aren't their wives," the King explained.

"Even if they are a part of their security team?" I asked.

The King relented slightly. "During the night, one security team member of yours will be stationed just outside where you will be sleeping, and one of my security detail will keep him company."

Without saying a word, I just raised an eyebrow.

"To keep each man committed to their job," the King explained.

Armand whispered to me, "Ma’am, it is very dangerous to question the King in a country where women are punished for questioning a man, let alone a king."

The King turned around and addressed Armand directly. "Since she and I have a friendship and she is highly trusted, she can speak her mind privately. However, when it comes to something in a public forum, you don't question me." He looked back at me and further explained, "After each public forum, a few trusted people, yourself, and I meet privately, and you are more than welcome to question him."

"Sometimes these conversations can be heated," I stated, "but at the end of the day, there is always respect."

The rest of the ride to Riffa Palace was quiet. When the driver parked at the front entrance of the palace, we all piled out—Hamad first, followed by his one security detail, Armand, Roger, Joel, and Ronan.

The royal attendants immediately stepped forward and took our bags out of the trunk of the Range Rover. Hamad spoke to the royal attendants in Bahraini Arabic, instructing them on which bags were to go where.

"Your luggage will be delivered directly to your quarters," King Hamad said, gesturing toward the main entrance.

"And my detail?" I asked, looking back at the men.

"They will be taken care of as well," Hamad replied. "They will be staying just on the other side of this wall, no more than twenty yards from you."

"That works," Armand said with a subtle nod of approval.

We were escorted inside and guided toward the wing where we would be sleeping. Once I made sure my bags were safely brought to Princess Sabika’s quarters and handled by her attendants, Armand and I broke away and began walking down the long, arch-lined corridor toward Khalid's hallway.

The marble floor echoed beneath our footsteps, but Armand couldn't keep his mouth shut for more than a few paces. He kept his head up and his eyes scanning, but his jaw stayed tight as he grumbled under his breath.

"Twenty yards on the other side of a stone wall," Armand muttered quietly, adjusting the cuff of his suit coat. "I don't care if it's royal protocol or cultural tradition, ma'am. Having a wall and two sets of guards between us and your door goes against every security protocol I've ever written for you. If something happens, those extra fifteen seconds could be—"

"I totally understand where you are coming from, Armand," I sighed. "You’re here, Roger and Joel as well, to protect me. There is a door in the wall separating us. An alarm would blare if there was some kind of incident. Thankfully, it’s unlocked 24/7, however Hamad would let it slide that you and the guys came rushing over if there was an emergency. He understands it as he has four wives and five daughters. Please remember that we are guests here and we have to follow protocols."

"I understand," he said. "I don’t like it but I understand."

I leaned in closer to him, keeping my voice down so it wouldn't carry off the high carved ceilings of the palace wing.

"As for Prince Khalid? Anyone who works security outside of who he has retained is forbidden when it comes to me," I told him quietly. "Because more often than not, Khalid and I have sex when I am here. If my security detail were standing right outside that door, you’d be barging in to save me every time I scream in pleasure—whereas his security detail knows not to react unless I scream a specific code word. Also, it helps to have only his security on hand when I am here and is beneficial to both the prince and I. If you were around while he and I were fucking, his two wives would be aware of the situation. His guards are discrete when it comes to turning his wives away from near where he and I are at any given moment."

Armand froze for a fraction of a second, his head turning slowly to look at me. His professional, stoic expression flickered as he processed the information, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"Well," Armand grunted after a long beat, clearing his throat and looking straight ahead again. "I suppose that is... a pragmatic protocol, ma'am."

"It's a practical one," I replied smoothly, a faint smirk playing on my lips as we reached the arched entrance to Khalid's corridor. "Now relax, Armand. Everything is under control."

I knocked and Khalid welcomed me to his hallway.

"Welcome, Deppgrl. It’s good to see you again," he said as he wrapped me into a tight hug. "Who is this?"

"Khalid, this is Armand. He is the head of my security," I said. "I informed him of your protocol when I’m in your area of any palace we’re in."

"Armand, it’s a pleasure to meet you," the prince said as he stretched his hand out to shake hands with Armand. "Your prime minister will be in excellent hands while she’s with me."

"So I’ve been told," Armand said dryly. "How long will she be with you?"

"Until we are both satisfied," the prince said as he looked at me and winked. "It varies but be prepared to wait several hours."

"How will I know that you’re done, ma’am?"

"I will text you fifteen minutes before we’re done."

Armand nodded his head, turned around and left in a huff.

"Come on in, Deppgrl. Would you like anything to eat or drink before we catch up," Khalid said as he kissed and nuzzled my neck. "Yes, I have been tested for STIs and I’m negative. I’ll grab the papers while you’re catching your breath. My father said that you’ve had a busy twenty four hours."

"Alqahwat mae alsukar walkarimat satakun mithaliatan," I said in Arabic knowing his staff would understand. Coffee with cream and sugar, please. "Thank you."

A man nodded and left to get me the coffee I requested.

"It looks like your lessons worked well," he said as he adjusted his hard dick in his thobe. "I’ll be back in a few minutes with the paperwork but after I shower."

"The lessons you taught definitely took," I said. "Sounds good. Maybe I can help you when you get back?"

"That would be great," he said. "I need a ton of help. I love my wives but they are jealous of each other."

We laughed as he headed back to his office and his bathroom. His attendant arrived seconds later and handed me the coffee in a fine China tea cup. I thank him as I am careful not to touch him as Islam is strict about non-related men and women touching.

"Thank you," I said as I took a sip. I was impressed with this man’s skill. "The coffee is amazing. It has the perfect amount of cream and sugar. I appreciate you and your talent, sir."

He smiled real big and left.

"Perfect coffee, huh?" Khalid asked. "Why doesn’t anyone say that about the coffee I make?"

"Many women say that about your dick, Khalid," I said with a smile as I finished the coffee. "Not everyone can make the perfect cup of coffee."

"I’ll take that over making good coffee," he said as he took the tea cup from my hand and placed it on a table. "Is here ok or do you want more privacy?"

"It’s always about privacy but I know as the son of the king, you still get much privacy."

"A less than important son."

"A son nonetheless."

Khalid took my hand and led me to his room. On his bed, he had years of STI testing printed out. With a raised eyebrow, I looked at him.

"I went to independent labs throughout the world under a fake name," Khalid explained. "If I stayed here, not only would my father the king be livid but the doctors and labs would lie to me. These are accurate."

I nodded my head slightly as I read his STI results. His results were perfect and I felt that they were too perfect until I stumbled on a test from four years ago. A lab showed that he was positive for gonorrhea but the following few days show from the same lab as well as other labs that he was negative for everything including gonorrhea. Before I could ask him anything, he answered me.

"I know. It doesn’t look good but I couldn’t just trust this test," he said. "There are very few women that I am sexually active with. You are one of them."

"What about the others? And no, I don’t mean your wives."

"When it comes to women who aren’t my wives, I always use a condom."

"Always?" I asked. "You don’t with me."

"That is true. Ninety seven percent of the time, when I am fucking other women, I use condoms. I don’t when it comes to my wives and you. And we both know it’s impossible spiritually and legally for my wives to fuck other men."

I nodded as I flipped through the rest of his results. Yesterday was the most recent.

"I’m satisfied with these results," I said as I tossed his results into the fireplace. I stared as the papers were engulfed by flames.

Khalid took his robe off and walked towards me. I noticed that he filled out and has become more muscular since the last time I saw him five years ago. As I was checking out his physique, my eyes landed on his incredible dick.

"Like what you see, Madam Prime Minister?"

"Always," I said as I took the scarf off of my head and stripped out of the clothes that Barb sent ahead to the plane for me.

"Fire engine red is a good look on you," he said. "I’ve always had a thing for red heads and dirty blondes."

I laughed hard and loud.

"Good for you that I’m both," I said. "My natural hair is dirty blonde."

"No wonder I’ve always wanted you," he said as he caressed my large tits in his hands. "You’re awfully perky. New tits?"

"Same old tits but just had a lift a few weeks ago," I said. "Next surgery is larger tits."

"After you heal after that surgery, let me know. I will come visit."

"Oh, I will," I said as I moved to his desk, knocking everything off of it.

"You’re destructive."

"Wait til you see what I do to headboards."

Khalid raised an eyebrow as he walked over to me. I noticed a little bit of precum on the tip of his dick.

"You better get over here before you waste your load," I said as I spread my legs open for him.

In four large strides, Khalid was standing between my spread legs. Seconds later, his 10 ½ inch long, 4 ½ inch wide dick was in my tight pussy. I moaned in pleasure in his ear.

"Fuck yes, Khalid," I moaned. "I’m far from fragile."

"Your sweet pussy is tighter than I remember," he moaned as he started thrusting his dick in and out of me. Surgery?"

"Yessssssssss," I moan. "Vaginoplasty and a perineoplasty. One to tighten my pussy and the other to make the opening of my pussy smaller."

"My gods, Deppgrl," he grunted as he picked up speed and force of his fucking me. "I don’t care why you made the decisions for these surgeries but I am going to take full advantage of your decisions."

Khalid continued to fuck me harder and faster than he had before, cumming in my pussy repeatedly. As often as he was filling my cervix with his cum, I was cumming on his dick as often.

"Fuck me until my pussy is swollen, Khalid," I screamed.

Khalid came in me a few more times as I was sitting on his desk. He pulled out, helped me get on my feet and turned me around. I leaned down on the desk and spread my legs for him. Seconds later, he mounted my pussy from behind and he screamed in pleasure. I felt him shoot a load of his cum right into my cervix. He caught his breath, grabbed my hips and started fucking me like there was no tomorrow. I took his large dick stroke for stroke and thrust for thrust. He repeatedly came in me.

"Fuck," he moaned as he pulled out. Khalid picked me up, carried me to his bed and gently placed me down on his bed. "I could fuck you all night but tonight is the peak time to get both wives pregnant."

"There are meds for that," I said as I got on my hands and knees. "After dinner, meet me so I can give you a few pills. Only take one per night. Or day."

"I’m sure it’ll help me last longer and hopefully impregnant both wives," Khalid said as I felt the bed move. He mounted my pussy from behind. "You’re on birth control?"

"I am," I said as I felt him shoot another load of cum in me. "Shoot all the cum you want in me."

"Thank fuck," he said as he gripped my hips. "I’m going to cum in you so much then!"

And he most certainly did. He fucked me on the bed, the floor, against the wall and the windows and in so many positions.

Right there on the silk covers of the bed, he pulled me upright into his lap, wrapping my legs tightly around his waist as we took each other in the Lotus position, his hands gripping my hips as we matched a breathless, rhythmic stride. Without letting up, he brought me flat onto my back, lifting my hips and bending my knees up toward my head to hold me open in the Bridge, driving deep as the sheets bunched beneath us. He flipped our momentum, letting me mount him in the Amazon, controlling the pace as I rode him vertically while he pulled me down tight against his chest.

Moving off the mattress, we spilled down onto the deep plush rug on the floor. He turned me around on all fours, locking his fingers into my waist to take me in doggy style, the impact echoing softly off the marble walls before pressing me flat onto my stomach, taking me flush from behind in prone bone while kissing the back of my neck.

He pulled me up against the solid wood paneled wall, lifting one of my legs straight up onto his shoulder in the anvil as he pressed into me with relentless force. Shifting our balance against the wood, he twisted my frame into the pretzel dip, contorting my body around his while maintaining deep, uninterrupted thrusts. Finally, he carried me toward the tall floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the palace gardens, holding my entire body weight suspended in mid-air in the suspended congress while I held on tight to his shoulders, watching our silhouettes against the glass as he shot load after load inside me.

By the time we finally let go and collapsed back together onto the bed, we were utterly out of breath and dripping in sweat, thoroughly exhausted from fucking across every inch of the room.

I eventually got off the bed, showered and texted Armand that I was ready.

“Armand, I am done with my meeting with the prince. Please meet me at the entrance of the hallway in fifteen minutes.”

I hit send and put my phone down. I dressed, blew dried my hair most of the way, slid my sandals on and put the scarf over my hair. I grabbed my phone off of the table and headed back to the prince’s bedroom to tell him that I was leaving and that I would see him at dinner. Khalid was asleep and his chest slowly rose with each breath. On my way out, I asked the prince’s most trusted attendant to let Khalid that I was getting picked up at the end of the prince’s hall by my head of security and that I would see the prince and his wives at dinner. The man told me that he would pass on the message to the prince.

I nodded my thanks and headed down to the end of Khalid’s private hallway to meet Armand. When I saw him, he looked relieved that I was in one piece.

“Did you breathe at all while I was out of your sight, Armand?” I asked.

“Barely,” he sighed. “How was the meeting?”

“Very satisfying,” I said. “I hope tonight’s banquet will be short as that was the most exhausting meeting I’ve had in a long time. Knowing Hamad, the banquet will last hours. My meetings with him and his government will start early tomorrow morning, though.”

“Glad that your meeting with the prince was satisfying. Do you need to change for the banquet?” he asked as he chased after me.

“I do. Princess Sabkit has clothing for me,” I said. “I don’t know if the king will invite you, Roger, Joel and Ronan but I am sure one of his men will let you know.”

It took us another minute to get to the exterior of  Princess Sabika’s room. Armand and I nodded to each other before I entered the rooms.

Prepping for Bahrain

I grabbed my newly minted ID off the desk, sliding it into my pocket. It was time to pick up the two new phones. Instead of paging Ronan to bring the car around just to drive me a block and a half down the street, I decided to walk. As soon as I stepped outside, the July heat hit me—definitely on the hotter side for a Canadian summer afternoon, but the brief stretch of solitude on the sidewalk was still a welcome break.

When I reached the shop, I was glad to see that Max was already all set for me. I’ve been going to his store for years for cell phones, internet packages, and who knows what else. As the years went on and my requirements evolved, Max developed a knack for anticipating my needs—he always seemed to know exactly what I was looking for before I even knew what I was looking for myself.

The chime above the door sounded as I stepped inside out of the heat. Max looked up from behind the counter.

"Good afternoon, Madam—" He caught himself mid-sentence, his eyes darting toward two customers browsing a display of tablets a few yards away. He smoothly dropped the "Prime Minister" shit without missing a beat, using the name he knew me by. "Good to see you, Ms. Smith. Glad you could make it in today."

"Good to see you too, Max," I replied.

The less fuss over me in public, the better it was. When I was taking care of technology needs or grocery shopping, I was just Deppgrl Smith, not Marie nor Prime Minister.

"Everything's ready for you, Deppgrl," Max said, coming out from behind the counter with a subtle nod toward the back. "Follow me."

He led me away from the main floor to a quiet, secluded area of the store tucked behind a partition wall, safely out of sight and earshot of the other shoppers. On the shiny counter sat a black velvet tray holding two sleek devices.

"Here we go," Max said, gesturing to the pair. "These are the next phones to come out. They aren't planned to be released to the public for another six months or so, but I managed to secure two of them and pull them aside just for you."

I leaned in to inspect the phones, appreciating the sheer level of craftsmanship—and Max's unfailing ability to deliver exactly what I needed it without even asking.

"Max, were you ever a criminal in your previous life?" I asked.

"I may have," he said slyly. "I know who you are, Marie. A relative of the Romanovs, the brains of the Mozzarella clan, criminal turned to a perfect Canadian citizen and now prime minister. I have followed your career for many years. You were the inspiration for my shenanigans as a youth and for me now as an adult."

"We both have secret lives, I guess," I said. "If you were an admirer of my past, then you would know what I say about shenanigans."

"If someone shenan once, they will shenan again."

We chuckled for a second.

Max tapped the edge of the counter, bringing our attention back to the black velvet tray. "In all seriousness, though, both of these are set up and prepped to your exact specs. You don’t ever have to ask as I tend to provide you what you need before you need it. These are fully secure and ready to roll. These phones are untraceable to hackers and other criminals. Trust me, I’ve tried. Also, there is never any need to give corporate a call to give the company a heads up when you travel. I made sure that when I received these phones that there would be unlimited travel with ZERO extra fees."

"Perfect. That's exactly what I came for," I said, reaching out to pick up the phones. "You always know what I need before I know what I need."

"Always a pleasure," Max said with a light nod. "Let me know if you need anything else pulled from the back before release day."

"Will do, Max. Thanks," I said. "What is the cost of the phones?"

"For the phones, it’ll be $3,000 Canadian, but with the rebate form and your Italian phone, you may be getting $2,800 Canadian back."

"Sounds reasonable," I said as I handed over my credit card.

"Here’s the form for you to fill out," Max said, placing the paperwork next to me. "As you do that, I am going to transfer the contacts that you have saved on the European phone to these. Once the numbers are transferred over successfully and you confirmed that everything is fine, I’ll shut the European phone down to factory settings and include it with the rebate form."

"Great," I said.

He took my credit card and processed the payment as I filled out the form. He was done before I was a few lines into the paperwork. He then transferred the contacts over successfully to both devices, and I checked them thoroughly after completing the form. Satisfied, Max shut down the European phone to factory settings, then shoved the form and the phone into an envelope, sealed it shut, and slipped it into his pocket.

"I’ll take care of this shortly," Max assured me. "I have a friend who will take care of it for us. He takes care of my high-priority clients."

"Thanks for everything, Max. I appreciate it, my friend."

"Any time, Deppgrl. Call me if you need anything."

"Will do!"

I tucked the new phones under my arm, gave Max a brief wave, and stepped back out through the front door, heading back into the July heat. I took a deep breath and headed back to the office.

When I arrived back at the office, Barb followed me into my more private office.

"Good news, Marie," Barb said as I kicked my dress shoes off. "Bahrain has everything set up and is ready for your arrival. They expect you in the next twenty-four hours."

"That is great news, Barb! I have a bag packed at my house. I need to get it and then I’ll head to the airport."

"I knew that you’d be mostly prepared. I have both Turkish Airlines and Qatar Airways on hold. Which flight?"

"Whatever one has the most accommodations for free I can get with my points," I said as I was digging through my messy desk looking for my keys and license. “Preferably first class, better food quality and better drinks.”

"Top center drawer, Marie," Barb said gently. "You know that’s where I always put your loose personal items. I’ll get you on Qatar as they provide more options along those lines. Organize your desk a bit, then I’ll kick you out so you can get going. Ronan?"

"You’re too good to me, Barb," I said as I found my license and keys and shoved them both in my pocket. "Here are my phones. The pink one is just for personal use, and the maroon one is for just this office plus Bobby and Fred. Can you please figure out which one has what number? And make sure the staff in this specific office has the number for the maroon phone. The only one that I want to have my private number is you. And yes to Ronan."

"Got it," Barb called over her shoulder as she left my office.

With the tasks I gave her, I knew that it’d take her just a few minutes to complete everything for me. I had to be quick with my organizing. Thankfully, Barb and I are both Type A personalities and our organizational skills are nearly identical to each other. I just put the notes and other loose papers in the appropriate folders that she created for me when I was traveling between New Zealand, Russia, and Italy. I threw my good pens into my locked desk drawer and attached that key ring to my key ring in my pocket. I grabbed my shoes, turned off my office lights, and headed out to meet Barb.

"Perfect timing! I printed your ticket for Qatar and also emailed it to you. Knowing you, there’s a chance you could lose your printed copy" Barb said, handing it over. "First class private pod. Three security team members—all undercover. Unfortunately, they’ll still stick out a little bit. Qatar is flying them for free due to your position. I emailed the staff here with your maroon phone’s number and I did save your private number to both my work and personal cell phones. Ronan is on his way up for you."

"No wonder you are my chief of staff!" I said as I took my printed ticket from her. "Can you please lock up my office for me?"

"Of course. Oh, before Ronan gets up here," Barb said as she started rifling through her desk. "I have saved a small purse of yours here somewhere. With your full hands, I’m afraid that you’ll drop something. Ah ha! Here we go!"

Barb handed me a small tan bag that was just large enough for my license, keys, a phone, and a rescue inhaler for my asthma.

"Thank you," I said as I started shoving as much stuff in there as I could. "Oh. Here are my office keys! I thought I lost them."

"You dropped them a few days before you left for your family emergency prior to your leave for New Zealand. I threw them in this purse to keep them safe."

"Again—this is why you’re my chief of staff!"

Barb blushed a little bit. I grabbed the keys out of my pocket so I could attach my office keys to the rest of my keys. I dropped my shoes, walked over to my private office, and locked it.

By the time I got back to my purse and dress shoes, Ronan and Barb were flirting. I knew that it was difficult for both of them to have any romantic relationship due to their jobs revolving around me, but I appreciated the hell out of them. They both also had failed relationships that were due to abuse inflicted upon them. At the end of the day, I still hoped that they would open up a little bit more to each other and start dating.

"Ready, Ronan?" I asked.

"I am, Marie. The quickest way to your not so humble abode?"

"You’re the best. Better not let your sister hear you call me Marie as she doesn’t know my true identity. That is the perfect way back to my house. One of these days, I have to give you both the night off so you can go for coffee or something," I said with a mischievous smile. "The stories that you can both share with each other about me."

They looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

"Maybe when we get you back from the Bahraini government in one piece, Marie," Ronan said quietly. "Their views aren’t favorable to women."

"I’ll be careful. Barb selected the best security for me. Don’t forget, I am the best hand-to-hand fighter and sharpshooter in the entire world, Ronan," I said, grateful for his concern. "Sadly, the world doesn’t know this. If I didn’t have to end my work with the Bahraini government for personal and work reasons, I wouldn’t go with as few security as I have. I need to be discreet and not have a ton of focus on me."

Ronan offered a tight, acknowledging nod, though the residual worry in his eyes didn't entirely vanish. "Fair enough. But discreet or not, my job is to get you to your house and then to that tarmac unharmed. The car is secured at the subterranean exit."

"Lead the way, then," I said, adjusting the strap of the tan purse over my shoulder and taking a final look around the room.

Barb gave my arm a reassuring squeeze as we passed her desk. "Safe travels, Marie. Keep your head down."

"Always try to!" I replied with a faint smile, following Ronan down the private corridor toward the garage doors.

Ronan and I walked in silence, I carried most of my stuff but since I still didn’t have enough hands, he had my shoes in a plastic bag.

“How do you feel about coming with me, Ronan? I know that you don’t have much experience in the protection gig but you being there with me will put you at ease.”

“That would be amazing, Marie.”

I pulled my personal phone out of my pocket and called Barb.

“Barb, can you add Ronan to the round trip flight with the security and I? Also, can you please send his sister Charlotte to his place to pack a bag for him and have her drop it off?”

“Working on the flight now as we speak. I’ll text Charlotte in a second. Once I have everything set up, I’ll email you Ronan’s ticket to your email and let you know when she’s on her way with his stuff.”

“Thanks so much.”

I ended the call and slipped the phone back into my tan purse. Next to me, Ronan had stopped dead in his tracks, staring at me with a bewildered look on his face.

"Marie... I have a passport arriving in the next few weeks," he said slowly, shaking his head. "I can't travel in and out of the country without one."

"I had that taken care of before I left for New Zealand," I said, unable to hide a sly grin. "I had your regular passport delayed a bit, created a diplomatic one for you, processed it through the correct channels, put in safe keeping, and brought over right now. It'll be at my house by the time we get there."

Ronan blinked, caught completely off guard, before letting out a short, disbelieving laugh. "You delayed my passport, created a new but diplomatic one and put it in safe keeping before you even went to New Zealand? You really do think of everything, don't you? What do I do with the one that I’ll be getting soon?"

"I try to stay two steps ahead," I said, pressing the down button for the private elevator. "It keeps us alive and keeps everything running without a hitch. You will travel with that one when you’re not with me."

The elevator doors chimed and slid open. We stepped inside, and as the floor indicator began its quiet descent toward the subterranean parking garage, Ronan shook his head, a mix of awe and genuine relief washing over his face.

"Well then," he said, shifting the plastic bag containing my dress shoes to his other hand. "I guess I'm going to Bahrain."

"You are," I replied softly, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders knowing someone I trusted implicitly would be by my side.

The subterranean garage was cool and dimly lit compared to the humid summer air outside. Ronan pressed the key fob, unlocking the armored black SUV parked in the private bay. He stowed my shoes in the trunk while I slid into the front passenger seat, letting out a heavy breath as the engine purred to life.

Within minutes, we pulled out of the underground complex through the secure side gate, blending smoothly into the downtown traffic. The drive to my home was quick and quiet. Ronan kept his eyes scanning the mirrors with trained vigilance, taking twice as many turns as necessary to make sure that no one was too close to the vehicle.

When we pulled into my driveway, the garage door opened automatically. As soon as the car was parked inside and the door closed behind us, I headed into the house to grab my packed bag. My packed suitcase was sitting right by the entryway closet, right where I’d left it. Beside it rested a courier envelope marked urgent—Ronan’s freshly arrived passport.

I grabbed the envelope and handed it over as Ronan walked in carrying my shoes.

"Here you go," I said with a smile. "Official clearance inside."

He opened the envelope, inspecting the passport with a wide grin. "Unbelievable. You really don't miss a detail."

Before he could say anything else, a car pulled up into the driveway outside. Ronan glanced out the side window and nodded. "That's Charlotte."

We met her by the door. Charlotte stepped inside just long enough to hand Ronan a compact duffel bag and give him a tight hug.

"Everything you asked for is in here, bro," Charlotte said, turning to me with a warm smile. "Take care of my brother, Deppgrl."

“Thanks, Lottie!”

"Always," I promised. "And thank you, Charlotte. We owe you one."

After Charlotte had left, we loaded our bags into the back of the SUV, I locked up the house and we got into the car. We headed on our way to the airport. It was normally a ninety minute drive but Ronan threw the lights on that are on the top of the car. He still  mostly followed the laws of the road but we were able to speed – legally. The evening sky was darkening as we took the private access highway straight toward the executive airfield.

As the perimeter gates of the airport opened to let us onto the tarmac, the sharp silhouette of the Qatar Airways plane stood waiting beneath the floodlights. The engines hummed softly in preparation for departure.

Ronan parked near the mobile stairs and turned to me, cutting the engine. "All set, Marie?"

"All set," I said, picking up my tan purse and stepping out into the warm night air, ready for Bahrain. “Are you ready, Ro?”

“I am but nervous.”

“Totally understandable,” I said. “I’ll fill you in a bit when we’re in the air.”

Ronan nodded and we headed towards the plane.

Winds of change

I stood near the window and heard Ronan and Charlotte zoom away from the house, the sound of my work car quickly fading into the quiet night. The silence that settled over the room afterward felt heavy, making the soft ticking of the clock on the wall suddenly much louder.

Turning back to the living room, I looked over at Matteo. He was still exhausted from the jetlag and from the alcohol at dinner, sitting slumped on the sofa with his eyes closed. A single lamp cast a dim, amber glow across his face, accentuating the deep shadows of his exhaustion.

"Are you going to make it up the stairs?" I asked as I lingered by the doorway, watching him struggle to summon the energy to move.

"Barely," Matteo muttered, not even opening his eyes. "My body has absolutely no idea what day it is."

I smiled, leaning against the doorframe. It was strange how differently the travel had hit us. While he was utterly defeated by the trip, I was mostly fine. The long hours in transit hadn't worn me down the same way, leaving me awake and perfectly clear-headed.

"A good night’s rest will do you good," I said.

Matteo let out a tired sigh and slowly nodded. "I'm going to head up to the spare room. How are you not feeling this jet lag?"

“I travel a ton for work and am used to crossing multiple time zones constantly,” I said. “It doesn’t hurt to hydrate and rest a little bit while traveling back home.”

He managed to open one eye, looking up at me with a slow, appreciative shake of his head. "Hydration and rest. It sounds simple, but I always seem to forget the basics the moment I step onto a plane."

"Well, there's a fresh bottle of water on the counter if you want to take it up with you," I offered, gesturing toward the kitchen.

"Thanks," he said, finally forcing himself to sit up with a heavy yawn. He stood up slowly, steadying himself for a moment before taking a tentative step toward the hallway. "See you in the morning."

"Sleep well," I said, watching him make his way toward the stairs. "Leave all of your clothes in the hall. I’ll grab your stuff in a little bit to put them through the washer and dryer.”

“Appreciate it,” he said. “Oh. Phone’s dead.”

“Any time. I think there’s a charger in the room,” I said. “I’ll peek later after I’ve folded your clothes and bring them up.”

“Thanks,” he said as he was heading upstairs.

I sighed. I didn’t know what I was going to do with Matteo. We have a semi but not really complicated past. We met in college and dated on and off for a long time. At one point, he wanted to marry me, but I didn’t want to marry him—I did love him though. After that, we dated others, but we’ve still fucked a few times over the last few years. I don’t love him anymore, though. We’re really not a part of each other’s lives anymore, and honestly, I didn’t see a point in us remaining in each other’s lives at all. I feel that it’s time to have a serious conversation in the morning with him to put an end to this cycle.

He wouldn’t like it, but with our history together, I knew he would keep my secrets private, just as he knows that I would keep his secrets private. I’m sure that he’d be hurt when we have this conversation, but he’s a grown ass man and he’s emotionally, mentally, and physically stable. Anyone would be happy to have him in their lives, and any woman would be thrilled to be dating him.

I headed upstairs to the hallway to gather his discarded clothes. Before throwing them in the wash, I checked his pants pockets to make sure nothing like tissues was left inside to ruin the load. The only things that came out of his pockets were his wallet—which is, clearly, a given—and a small, velvet ring box.

My breath caught slightly. I opened the ring box. Resting inside was an engagement ring that I had always wanted. Granted, I didn’t know if the ring was meant for me or for someone else entirely. At the same time, I knew Matteo was still hurting deeply over his former fiancée cheating on him.

Holding the items carefully, I quietly opened the door to the spare room and crept inside to place his wallet and the ring box safely on top of the dresser for him. While inside, I also glanced around the room to see if there was indeed a charger for his phone. Unfortunately, there wasn’t one plugged in anywhere.

I headed back out of the spare room, grabbed his clothes, and headed down to the basement to start his laundry. Once the washer was humming, I came back to the first floor, grabbed a spare phone charger from my own stash, and headed back up to the spare room.

I quietly plugged the charger into the outlet and then connected his dead phone. I waited a few minutes for the battery to gain enough power to turn on. When the screen finally lit up, I unlocked it and set an alarm for 9:30 am so he wouldn't sleep the entire day away. I left his phone charging safely on the nightstand before slipping out of the room.

When I went back down to the kitchen, I noticed the food from dinner hadn’t been put away yet. Thankfully, it was still incredibly hot, so I quickly and gently transferred our food into containers and placed them in the fridge. I did some light cleaning of the kitchen and the living room, wiping down the counters and putting stray items back where they belonged.

By the time I finished, it wasn’t even 10:30 pm, and I was still wide awake, my mind racing. I knew that I needed to take some time before heading to Bahrain to end my working relationship with their government personally and privately. In order to do so, I need to reach out to the Canadian embassy there and the top government leaders to approve my official arrival. Thankfully, my doppelgänger hadn’t gone to Bahrain, so my sudden trip there wouldn't raise any suspicions.

Before sending any emails, I put Matteo’s clothes in the dryer, started the machine and headed back to the first floor. I threw my laptop open and created an email to the Canadian embassy.

Subject: Scheduling a trip to the Kingdom of Bahrain

Hello Team,

I am writing to inform you that I am planning to travel to the Kingdom of Bahrain in the near future and would greatly appreciate your assistance in coordinating the necessary arrangements for my visit.

While I understand that diplomatic visits typically require the appropriate visa, government authorization, and official approval from the Bahraini authorities, my planned trip is somewhat unique in nature. The visit will serve both diplomatic and personal purposes. On the diplomatic side, I will be representing and coordinating matters related to the Office of the Prime Minister of Canada. Personally, I also wish to conclude and formally bring closure to my previous work associated with the Government of Bahrain.

Given these circumstances, I request that you discuss with the appropriate government representatives and the high ranking officials to determine the best course of action and, if possible, establish an agreement that would facilitate this visit in accordance with all applicable diplomatic protocols and governmental requirements.

I sincerely appreciate your time, consideration, and assistance with this matter.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,

Deppgrl Smith

After sending the email, I checked on the dryer to see if Matteo’s clothes were done. Thankfully, they were. I took his clothes out, folded them, emptied the lint trap and brought his clothes up to the spare room. He was still fast asleep and his phone was almost finished charging. I placed his clothes on the desk for him for the morning and headed back downstairs.

I knew that the embassy staff get inundated with emails 24/7 and I knew that they’d get to my email when they get to it. Figured I’d check my email anyways as I still was wide awake. To my surprise, I did receive a reply from the embassy.

Subject: Re: Scheduling a trip to the Kingdom of Bahrain

Dear Prime Minister,

We have forwarded your correspondence to the Government of the Kingdom of Bahrain, and we are pleased to share their favorable response. The Bahraini government has expressed that your visit would be warmly welcomed and greatly appreciated. As a gesture of goodwill, they have also confirmed their willingness to waive the standard visa requirements for your visit.

At present, Bahraini officials are finalizing an appropriate public explanation for your trip. Their current proposal is to present the visit as a series of discussions regarding trade opportunities, with a particular focus on iron ore, slag, and ash. They believe this would provide a suitable and credible public framework while allowing the broader purpose of your visit to remain appropriately discreet.

The king himself, His Majesty King Hamad bin Isa Al Khalifa has personally conveyed his enthusiasm for welcoming you to Bahrain. He would appreciate your thoughts on whether the proposed trade-focused explanation would be acceptable as the official public reason for your visit. Upon your arrival, His Majesty would be delighted to discuss the more personal aspects of your visit with you in a private setting. Limited staff but also to keep with tradition of respectability and appearances.

We look forward to your response and remain at your disposal should you have any questions or require further assistance in preparing for your visit.

I replied instantly:

Subject: Re: Re: Scheduling a trip to the Kingdom of Bahrain

I’m in agreement with His Majesty, King Hamad, with the public reasons of the meeting as well as the more private meeting. Please let him know that I’m going to talk to my staff in the morning – our time - to arrange travel with you and the Bahraini government for the meetings. Thank you.

With a quick click, I hit send, shut down my laptop screen, and finally made my way up the quiet staircase to my bedroom for the night.

Once in the bedroom, I stripped off my clothes, tossed them onto the floor, and crawled into bed naked. I tried to settle in, closing my eyes and letting the stillness of the house envelope me, but sleep simply refused to come. My body was resting, but my mind was still spinning—replaying the upcoming conversation with Matteo, the ring on his dresser, and the delicate diplomatic travel logistics waiting for me in the days ahead.

Realizing I was far too awake to just lie there in the dark, I reached over to the nightstand, picked up my phone, and unlocked the glowing screen. I opened up my email app, pulled up the emails between myself and the Canadian embassy in Bahrain, and hit forward. I drafted a quick note to my staff members, attaching the entire thread so they would have full context on the approved diplomatic and non-diplomatic visit, the visa waiver, and King Hamad’s plans.

I knew that every member of my staff would be either in bed or fast asleep at this hour of the night, but forwarding it now meant it would be sitting right at the top of their inboxes first thing in the morning. Satisfied that the ball was moving forward on all fronts, I finally locked my phone, set it face down on the nightstand, and let myself sink into the darkness of the room.

Due to the mix of jetlag, trying to get back into the rhythm of my time zone, and being completely wired from the evening, it took me a few hours to fall asleep. I lay there shifting occasionally under the covers, watching shadows shift across the ceiling as my body fought the lingering restlessness. Thoughts continued to drift in and out—visualizing how to start the conversation with Matteo tomorrow, considering the ring in the box upstairs, and anticipating the diplomatic meetings in Bahrain. It wasn't until the hours stretched long into the night and the faint early light began to touch the room that my mind finally quieted enough for sleep to take over.

Unfortunately, I didn’t sleep long but I woke up well rested. I showered, dressed, brushed my hair and teeth and then headed downstairs to the kitchen. When I looked at the clock, it was 8 am. I hoped Matteo would wake up before the alarm but between tequila he had at the house before we went to dinner plus the pitcher of margarita and the jetlag, he could sleep until noon or later. He’s not a bad guy but due to life and my work, we’re not in each other’s lives very often.

Before I could pull a pan out of the cabinet to make scrambled eggs, I headed to my computer to see if the embassy staff in Bahrain responded. Thankfully, they did and they’re starting the process to finish the details with the king. I’d get an answer when I could travel in a few hours.

I moved back to the kitchen, pulled a pan, eggs, bacon and bread. I got to working on frying the bacon and toasting the bread as I heard Matteo snore away. I made some noise to wake him up as te smell of bacon wasn’t working. Minutes later, I heard him getting up out of bed and into the bathroom. I finished making breakfast as he got ready. I swear he takes more time than I do to get ready in the morning. Though I live about thirty minutes from my prime minister office, I still take less time than he does and he lives five minutes from work.

Twenty minutes later, Matteo finally made his way down. I’d finished my breakfast – his was in the microwave – and had already started to clean up.

“Morning, sleepy head,” I said. “Sorry about the noise. When worried about getting back to work in a more normal job, I make noise.”

“It’s ok,” he said. “Let me help clean up.”

“I got it,” I said. “I’m almost done plus your breakfast is in the microwave. By the way, you need to empty your pockets better before laundry is done on your clothes.”

“So you saw the ring?”

“Yep.”

“Well?”

“Nope.”

“That was the quickest to ever to ask someone to marry them and be denied.”

“It is but you know it wouldn’t work out.”

“I do. Just trying to get you off of the market because Brick is absolutely in love with you and wants to marry you.”

“Ew,” I said. “Your uncle is a nice dude but he knows I wouldn’t marry him.”

“Yeah, ew is right,” Matteo said as he took his plate out of the microwave. “Nice dude but waaaaaaaaay too old for you.”

“My point exactly.”

Matteo ate in silence as I finished cleaning. 

“Want me to drive you to work?”

“That would be great. Don’t forget your food.”

“I’ll grab the food and load up while you do what you need to do.”

I nodded, grabbed my work computer from the coat closet, ran upstairs to grab my phone and drivers license and my keys. By the time I was downstairs, Matteo was waiting for me by the front door.

“Ready?”

“Yep.”

We left my house, I locked up behind us and we got into his brand new truck.

“Better ride than the last one?”

“Much smoother of a ride. Plus safer.”

“I’m sorry about what happened to you and to your truck last time I was home.”

“No need to apologize. I got a new truck out of it and a restraining order against Mike. Win win.”

“Definitely a win win. Know where you’re going?”

“I do. Looked it up before you came down with the stuff you needed for the day.”

“Awesome.”

Matteo drove off in silence and it worked out well. I needed to reply to emails and arrange to pick up a new personal phone some time during the day. I logged into my phone carrier’s mobile app to arrange a time to pick a phone up locally. I figured I’d pay for it while I was at it. My card wasn’t able to process the payment as I had been a loyal customer for so many years, so the phone was free. I decided to call the store.

“Hi, it’s Deppgrl Smith. I’m trying to pay for a phone and arrange a time to pick up a phone. The thing is that I wasn’t charged for the phone.”

“Prime Minister, this is a surprise,” Max said. “We weren’t expecting your call. And yes, since you have been a loyal customer of fifteen years, we, the company, decided that the next few phones you purchase would be of no cost to you. There are also free upgrades.”

“Due to my position, I can’t accept this as it’s considered as a gift,” I said. “I’m grateful that you guys are willing to do this for me but I need to be careful with things such as this.”

“You got it. I have an idea,” he said.

“What’s the idea?”

“When you come in, we won't charge you the phone but only the cost for the upgrade. I am sure that you have a phone that’s a trade in.”

“That is something that we can do. And yes, I do but it’s a phone from Europe…Italy to be exact.”

“That’s even better. We have rebate forms that you can fill out to get reimbursed for the cost of the phone. It’ll take some time but it’s a good rebate.”

“Sounds good, Max. Thanks so much for taking care of me. Does 1 pm still work for you?”

“Yes, it does. See you then.”

“Bye.”

When I hung up, Matteo was pulling into the outer parking lot. Since he didn’t have clearance, he couldn’t get into the main parking lot. That’s when it hit me that I forgot my identification to get inside the building. Oh well. I’d figure it out.

“Thanks for coming to get me from Italy and thanks for driving me in today,” I said. “I appreciate it very much.”

“You’re very welcome, Deppgrl,” he said. “Is this the end of the road?”

“It is.”

“Then I’ll keep your secrets forever.”

“You always have and I know you will continue to do so,” I said with a smile. “I’ll keep yours as well.”

“You’ve got a few secrets.”

“So do you.”

We both smiled for a second. I got out of the car with all of my stuff in my hands.

“Call the office if you need anything,” I said. “When you do, tell the staff that you’re Bob Marley.”

“The dead reggae singer?”

“Yup.”

“They know when he calls, they forward his calls directly to me.”

“Thank you.”

I winked and closed the door. I walked behind his car to the security gate.

“Hi, I’m so sorry,” I said. “I forgot my identification tag but I have my drivers license.”

“Without your id, you can’t get passed the next gate. I’ll scan your license in and send you to that gate anyways. Maybe someone will reach out to who you need to get a hold of.”

“I need to get a hold of myself,” I said as I handed over my license.

The security guard took my license, scanned and handed it back. As he was waiting for my image and my information to populate, he muttered: “Some people thinking who they are.”

I couldn’t do anything but giggle.

“I know that giggle anywhere,” he said. “Prime Minister. My apologies.”

“Let my stuff populate before we get ahead of ourselves, Fred,” I said with a smile. “Once I’m approved, we’ll take the next step. It’s not worth you losing your job over this.”

Fred smiled, nodded and kept checking his computer for how much longer my information would populate. It didn’t take too long, thankfully.

“Alright, Prime Minister. Everything popped up and you are who you are. As you head on over to the security team by the north entrance, I’ll give them a heads up that you’re on your way and that you forgot your identification to enter the building,” Fred said, “They’ll probably send you up to Charlene to get a new ID for the building.”

“Thanks, my friend,” I said. “How are these buildings during the winter and the summer?”

“Extremely rough, ma’am, to be honest. Our space heaters don’t do enough and if we have too many plugged in, we short circuit and lose power. Our fans and window aircon aren’t enough either. Once too many are plugged in, we short circuit and lose power. It takes hours if not a full day to get power back.”

“It sounds like an insulation and electrical thing,” I said. “Come up with a plan with your colleagues. See what you all need….better insulation and better electrical wiring, fridges in each guard shack, a fridge, microwaves, sinks and bathrooms. Whatever it is, it’s not too big nor too small. I’ll start working on a plan as well. Once you’re done, call my office and tell them that you're Bob Marley. They'll know to put you through immediately.”

“Thank you so much.”

“You’re very welcome. I will be stepping out for a bit this afternoon to get a new phone….I’m desperate for an upgrade. Before I step out, I’ll remind my staff about your call and if I’m not in the office, they will invite you up to wait for me until I arrive. When I see Charlene, I’ll let her know.”

He nodded and I was on my way to the north entrance. It was a three mile trek and thankfully, I was wearing leggings and a loose fitting shirt. I knew that I had extra clothes in the office – as well as toiletries. One never knows when I need to spend a night in the office. By the time that I arrived at the second guard shack, the guard was aware of me being on my way and had already called Charlene down.

“Hey, Jedidiah and Charlene,” I said. “Sorry about me forgetting my ID. It’s been a whirlwind since I got home.”

“Not an issue, ma’am,” Jedidiah said. “Just need to scan your license.”

“Of course,” I said as I passed it off to him. “Charlene, do I have a few minutes to shower and change before we take care of the new id?”

“Certainly, Deppgrl. As you take care of yourself, I’ll have things brought to your office and get everything set up.”

“Appreciate it.”

“Here’s your license back.”

“Thanks, Jed!” I said as I reached across the counter to take it.

“On our way up to my office, Charlene, we need to discuss some stuff. That ok?”

“Absolutely!”

“Perfect.”

As we headed inside the building, I stated that all is good but talking with the guards, things need to make a change.

“What changes?”

“There’s a big temperature differential between the guards inside the building versus the guards in the shacks. The guards inside aren’t affected by the weather nor is their electric messed with unless there’s a legitimate power outage. The guards in the shacks are either boiling in the summer or freezing in the winter. The insulation is a major issue. When fans, window aircon units, and even space heaters are plugged in and turned on, their circuit breakers malfunction. It can take up to twenty four hours for these guards can access their electricity. On top that, we have staff coming in sick plus visitors. Each sick person easily shares whatever illness they have with our security team. Imagine your immune system working overtime in the dead of winter when you’re freezing. You’re going to get sicker. Plus, no guard can get coverage to go to the doctor or to take a sick day when they work in the shacks. Add in they do twice to three times the amount of work but half the pay and longer days.”

“Wow. Something needs to be done about this.”

“It does which is why we’re talking. I spoke with Fred. He is going to come up with a plan of what each shack needs; better insulation and better electrical wires, bathrooms, sinks, fridges, and all that stuff. He is going to call this afternoon and I’ll let my staff to put him through to me immediately and it doesn’t matter what I’m doing. I did tell Fred that I’ll be out of the office and if he calls when I’m gone, he is to reach out to you, get coverage and wait in my office for me.”

“Deppgrl, none of this is any of your concern. There’s a reason why I’m head of security.”

“It is my concern when this has been happening for years under you. Things have been said, emailed and whatnot. Nothing has changed. Until this gets fixed, you’re on notice. Either shape up or start looking for new work. How you respond to getting things taken care of – preferably sooner – will not only affect your pay and your time here and references. Anyone calling to say what your work ethic is like will be transferred to me.”

“But Deppgrl…”

“There’s no buts,” I said as we entered my office’s foyer. “Once I get information from Fred, I will share it with you. It needs to be taken care of immediately. I know that there will be a high cost but due to my previous work and current work and barely using any of the budget of this office, money can be shuffled around and taken care of. I also know that there’s more funds in your budget to take care of it. If need be, we can cut your pay. Using my personal funds is the extremely last call as is using this office’s funds.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Charlene said.

“Be back in ten minutes with what and with who you need. The sooner its set up, the sooner you’re available to meet with Fred and I. Speaking of Fred and the other guards working in the shacks need updated technology for their shacks, higher pay, better benefits and they’ll rotate with the guards working inside the building. All of this will be taken out of your budget.”

Charlene paled, nodded and headed out of the foyer of my general office staff to get what she needed for my new ID to get back in the building. I greeted my staff, thankful for all of them for running my office without me, covering for me and for recording the conversation with Charlene.

“Barb, please forward the conversation to who you need to.”

“Yes, Marie,” she said with a smile.

My entire staff knew my true identity and they had the liberty to call me Marie Alexandrovna Romanov. The only time that they knew that they couldn’t is when others not in this office visited. I gave my staff the trust and they respect that they all deserved from the first moment we met. They learned to trust me and respect me but over time, we were family. I fought for them daily. They all earned the same amount – except for the more senior staff, of course, they all had equivalent benefits with their health plans, sick days, personal time off, vacation days and education reimbursement. If they needed more time off after using their forty five sick days per year, they still get the time off – I pay them myself. They can’t control when they get sick or their loved ones get sick. I implemented two week period for each time they lose a loved one – they knew full well that I would research this and once I made the familial connection or the relationship to the deceased, they were able to take that time.

I went to my private office, grabbed a towel, my toiletries and work clothes. I hit the panel on my wall to let me enter my hidden shower. It took a few minutes for the water to heat up but once it did, I showered three times. I got out, dried off, dressed and blew dry my hair. I applied light make up before closing up my shower behind the panel. I went back to my closet to put my toiletries away, hang up my towel, put my slides back on and headed to the foyer. Charlene was pissed. I took thirty minutes. I didn’t care at this point she infuriated me earlier.

“Ready?”

“Yes, we are.”

“Thanks for getting so quickly,” I said without apologizing for making her wait for me.

“Any time, ma’am.”

I stood in between the wall and the camera. The photographer took a few pictures and asked me to come over to approve which one to use.

“Whatever one you think is best, Marlena. You’ve always done the best when picking the best photo out of the group.”

“Thank you. I’ll get your ID back to you in an hour.”

“Thank you, Marlena. Charlene, I expect my ID to be here in an hour and being one hundred percent working order. I have a very busy afternoon as do you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you. That is all, ladies.”

They nodded and started packing up the equipment. Before I left to head back into my private office, I asked Barb to watch Charlene like a hawk.

“Of course.”

“And Barb? Once all of the work done for Fred and the rest of the guards in the sheds, please draw up a letter of termination for Charlene. In the letter, please explain that she won’t be receiving any positive referrals from other than the fact that she was the head of security here and mention her failure to treat all the guards respectfully.”

“I certainly will, Marie. I’ll come up with a few drafts just in case there’s one you like the most or in case you want me to merge them together.”

“Thank you, Barb. As usual, you’re amazing.”

I went into my office and started going through the emails that my staff left in my email that were directed towards me rather than my staff. It took a few hours to respond to all of them but I got it done. I ended up calling Fred when I was done.

“Come on up,” I told him. “I’ll send Charlene to the shack.”

“Ok!” was all Fred said.

I called Charlene and told her to go to Fred’s shed.

“Ma’am - ”

“This isn’t a request. It’s an order and you better have the keys because he closed up before he left. Get there and get there fast.”

I hung up before she could say anything. Before I could do anything else, I heard Barb say something like: “You can’t be in here!” and “She told me to come up!” Fuck. Forgot to tell the staff this morning.

“Barb. Fred. Fred. Barb. Glad you met. This is on me. Fred’s a guard in the first shack closest to the street by the north entrance. If anyone calls claiming to be the reggae singer Bob Marley, it’s Fred. Or my friend Matteo. I told him that I would tell you guys but it’s clear I didn’t. Anytime he calls or comes here, it’s ok.”

“It’s your first day back and you’re dealing with a ton of stuff, Marie. We get it,” Barb said then suddenly paled. “Ma’am, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s ok, Barb. Since Fred will be working directly with this office more often, he has the right to know just in case of any slip ups.”

“I’ll pack my stuff.”

“Barb? You’re not packing your shit because you still fucking work here with the team and I. You slipped up because you’re human and we’re all comfortable with each other. All that I ask is that you share this with the team as you guys deal with the Bahraini government, get my visa and limited security for the trip. And I mean limited security. Clear?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” I said. “Fred, there’s much to discuss besides the deal with the sheds. Oh, Barb? Please hold all calls and emails unless it’s life or death. Or the Bahraini government. And I don’t want to hear from Charlene. If she calls or emails, she is to stay in the shack for the rest of Fred’s shift.”

“Got it, Marie,” Barb said with a smile,

“Fred, come with me,” I said as I led him to my office. “We need to start with my real name.”

He followed me into my office and I closed the door behind me.

“Have a seat. I am sure you have about a bajillion to five bajillion questions for me.”

“I do.”

“Before we start, do you want anything to eat or drink? The door in the corner is my bathroom.”

“Do you have tequila? I think I may need some.”

“The answer is always tequila and rum but never together. Cold or room temperature?”

“Cold.”

“Good,” I said as I opened my fridge and pulled out my midgrade bottle. “Real glasses ok?”

“If that’s all you have, that works,” he said.

I nodded, poured us several shots in each glass, handed him a glass, out the tequila back in the fridge and sat next to him on the other chair facing my desk.

“Before your questions, I’ll tell you what’s going on and who I am. This may answer some of your questions but you’ll still have questions.”

“Go ahead, Ma’am,” he said as he took a sip of the tequila.

“My name is Marie Alexandrovna Romanov and I’m a distant but direct descendant of Czar Alexander. I have a brother that you know as Bob but his identity is Artem Alexandrovnich Romanov. We were both born in Italy to our parents. Somewhere in that lineage, we are related of the Romanov family. As we were growing up in Italy, our closest friend was then and still is Roberto Mazzarella. He is the head of the Mazzarella clan and that’s part of the Camorra syndicate but he is the head in name only and on paper. I am the brains behind it. For the last thirty years, I have lived in Canada as Deppgrl Smith and my brother has lived here as Bob Smith. For the last fifteen years, I have traveled the world to work for different governments doing a variety of jobs. Sometimes it’s sports and sometimes it’s spying. For the last eleven months, I have worked in New Zealand as the temporary new coach for the All Blacks rugby team. I traveled to Russia to verify my Romanov lineage, helped a friend and his former girlfriend get out of Russia, helped my brother and I get diplomatic passports and immunity from Russia though we’ve been banned for the next fourteen years and eleven months and I quit working for the Russian government. I nearly died several times in Russia but it’s clear I survived. After getting out of Russia, I went to bail Roberto Mazzarella out of prison where he was held for a year without a single charge. I changed my appearance quite a bit. Obviously, the hair is different. I also had a breast lift, eye and eyebrow lift as well as a tummy tuck. I arrived back to Niagara-On-The-Lake about thirty six hours ago.”

“What the actual fuck? Does the Canadian government know who you are and what you do?”

“It sounds crazier than it is and like a bunch of lies,” I said. “Bob and I came here illegally but once we went to the government, we told them everything – including our connections to the Romanov family and our connection to Rob. The government knows exactly who we are but graciously gave us Canadian birth certificates, passports and driver's licenses. The only way that both Bob and I could keep up with our Canadian identities would be for one of us to become a spy. I chose that as Bob prefers being a chef. Due to the amount of times that I have nearly been assassinated over the years, I told the Canadian government that it’s time to step down from being a spy. In order to do that, I had to travel internationally for the last eleven months to terminate my working relationship with the countries and other governments. As prime minister, I still spy on these governments. In the next year, I have to go to Russia. They don’t know yet but when they do, they can’t refuse my entry due to diplomatic needs and if they deny my entry, they know that I can truthfully state that they’re denying entry of a Romanov.”

“But you were just in the Middle East!”

“That was my doppelgänger,” I said. “We secretly put this out to criminals all over in the UK and Canada to hire someone – a doppelgänger – to appear as me and act as me while I’m the current prime minister. The woman we all selected looked close enough to me but she had to gain weight, go under intense plastic surgery to look identical to me and learned to talk and walk just like me. My more experienced staff goes overseas with my doppelgänger to keep an eye on her and to make sure all meetings go as planned. She was almost found out a few times in the beginning but as she practiced with both my staff and I, she improved.”

“What about the trip to Bahrain?”

“It’s to discuss diplomatic things as well as to terminate my personal relationship with the king and government but they know with me being the prime minister of Canada, they can’t refuse my entry. Imagine losing your best asset and refusing their entry because they are a prime minister. No country would work with Bahrain for a long time.”

“This is a lot to take in,” Fred slurred his words a little bit.

“Best thing I can counter that is water and yogurt to help the booze.”

“If that’s all you have, that works.”

I grabbed him a small thirty two ounce container of blueberry yogurt and a forty two ounce bottle of water. He ate and drank in silence for a few minutes.

“Ready to discuss the plans for the shacks?

“Yeah but it’s going to be expensive.”

“That’s ok. Charlene is going to be taking it out of her budget as well as pay raises for you guys working the shacks as well as better and updated technology.”

“She keeps claiming that there’s nothing in the budget for anything.”

I picked up my phone and called Barb’s extension.

“Barb, please come in.”

Seconds later, Barb arrived.

“Take a seat on the other side of my desk….my normal side. You have tons of writing to do and people to talk to. Write something up real quick in regards of a termination letter for Charlene. When you send for her, she needs to bring my ID with her.”

“You got it, boss lady!”

The three of us worked on the correct wording for the termination letter. Fred told us all that it wasn’t  easy working under Charlene as working conditions were bad and she barely approved any time off. I mentioned that it was a bit of a fight to get her up the office to get a new ID and Barb said that Charlene is unprofessional and rude in all etiquette when it comes to phone, email, texting and in person meetings. I left it to Barb to write the letter. We all tweaked it a little bit and after saving the document to my computer, Barb printed the letter. I called Charlene up from Fred’s shack and told her to lock up before heading to my office and she also needed to grab my ID and make sure it worked. She begrudgingly agreed to come up. Knowing her, it would take her twenty minutes rather than the ten minutes.

“Fred, from this current conversation and the conversation that we had earlier, I know exactly what should be done. Barb, use my login credentials at your computer to send a mass email to the guards working  and to the ones off duty. They are all to report here in an hour. The building will be on lock down – no one coming in and no one going out. After the email sent to the guards, please send another mass email to everyone on staff in every single department that the guards will be in a meeting with me and the entire building will be on lock down until the guards are back at their stations..”

“Yes, ma’am,” Barb said. This is the most formal I’ve heard her be after the first month we worked together.

“Thank you, friend. You’ll have a delivery at your home in an hour,” I said tapping away at my phone. “It will hold until you get home. Fred, I’d like you to remain here when meeting with Charlene. And of course, you’ll be here for the meeting with the rest of the guards.”

Fred nodded. Our phones pinged. An email from Barb through my secured email account. It was for the guards to report to my office within the hour no matter what was going on – barring any family or personal emergency. Another ping. Another email sent but building wide stating that in an hour from now, the building will be shut down due to the meeting with the guards until it ended – staff could leave now and work from home if they had pets and young kids….or elderly family members that need to be taken care of.

Charlene knocked on my door just after the termination letter printed. I took my time signing it and I then let her into my office. I closed the door after her.

“Have a seat next to Fred, Charlene,” I said as I reached out for my new ID.

“Here’s your new ID. Not only does it work, you have access to every room, office, basement and roof.”

“Thank you.”

“What’s he doing here?”

“That’s part of the reason why both of you are here, Charlene. How long have you been the head of security here?”

“Fifteen years.”

“And how many of those years have you been telling the guards that there’s no budget?”

“Fifteen years.”

“After talking with Fred and confirming with the finance office and Barb, there is a budget. The budget is five times the amount of my current budget. This office’s budget has barely been used in two years. Your budget has also been barely used and when it is, it benefits only you.”

“I can explain!”

“I’m sure you can but I won’t let you,” I said. “Throughout the day after talking with Fred and also with you, many of the emails that I have responded to since my departure and return from the Middle East has been from the guards. They’ve been searching for jobs elsewhere and less prestigious as here as the pay and the hours are better. Guards elsewhere get sick days, other guards cover their shifts when sick time and PTO are used, they get paid vacation and their training is far less rigorous than it is here. The two biggest discrepancies are the guards that work inside refuse to cover shifts for the guards out in the shacks and they also get paid more than the guards work outside. I would give you a list of things that need to be changed starting immediately but that isn’t necessary.”

“Oh?” Charlene said as she looked hopeful.

“You no longer work here. As we speak, Barb and your second in command are revoking your privileges here. Your phones, computer, keys and parking are going to be taken before you leave my office. They’re being brought up from your office now. I have a termination letter in my hand that you will receive as you’re being escorted to your car by the RCMP and you will be warned the RCMP that if you are anywhere near this building on the premises after today, that you will be trespassed. If you are caught stepping foot or driving on the premises, you will be arrested and charged for trespassing. I’m not barring you from working in security at all in the future but if future employers reach out to this building, they will be transferred immediately to me. I will let them know that you’re not on a rehire list here nor would I recommend you for employment. I won’t go into why with them but with them knowing you won’t be rehired nor do I recommend that they hire you, they won’t. When you get to your residence, RCMP will be there waiting for you. They have search warrants for all of your vehicles and for your residence to pick up all items that relate to and belong to this building. If you refuse to turn anything over, you will be arrested for theft. Also, if you do decide to file for Employment Insurance, you can, however, your request will be denied. Do you understand this?”

“Yes.”

“Great. Here is your termination letter explaining everything. Also, here are some forms you need to sign stating that you are accepting getting fired and for the reasons why in the termination letter. Copies will be mailed to you within three weeks. In case you decide to sue for wrongful termination, all law firms in Canada have already been contacted to not work with you. There are law firms that are in the US and local to us have also been contacted and been informed that they cannot work with you. Fred, can you please let Barb know that I’m ready for the RCMP to come escort Charlene over to her vehicle after she confirms that everything from her office has been handed over. That also includes the keys in her hands.”

“Of course, Deppgrl,” he said with a smile.

“How dare he get to call you by your first name!”

“He’s earned the right to do so. Depending on how the meeting with all of the security guards go, he may be taking your place. Goodbye, Charlene. Oh, one last thing. I have a permanent restraining order against you. You may not be in the same country as me and if you are, you will be arrested and charged with harassment and stalking.”

“Will I know which country you’ll be in?”

“No. For my safety, you will never be informed of which country I’ll be in. Your passport is flagged so any time you leave or enter Canada or any other country – especially if it’s a country that I am in….the Canadian government will know. No matter what country you land in when I am there, you will automatically get arrested by Customs when you land. Once this passport expires – which will be in approximately two years – you won’t be allowed to renew it for another thirty years. By that time, you will be too old to travel.”

Barb and the RCMP entered my office without knocking. I nodded my head and Charlene was escorted out with Barb on her heels. Once confirming that all of her office items have been returned, she was escorted to her car.

“Wow,” Barb said as she entered my office and closed it behind her. “I need a shot. Do you?”

Both Fred and I agreed.

“The good stuff, Barb,” I said softly and with a smile.

Barb instantly grabbed the very expensive Ouzo from the fridge. I've always hated the taste of black licorice but this Ouzo, the best from Cyprus, is the best that Barb and I have ever had. Barb and I had some while on the island during my first trip to Greece. We – and many of my staff – went twice more before I was called to New Zealand. Barb poured a few ounce in each of our glasses.

“Here’s to friendship and great colleagues,” I said as I raised my glass.

“Here, here!” chimed in Barb and Fred. We clinked our glasses together and chugged the Ouzo. It hurt and burned all of the way down but it was also some of the smoothest and cleanest Ouzo the three of us have had.

“Shit, that hurts!” Fred wheezed. “That’s some damn good ouzo though.”

“Fuck, that hurt like a bitch!” Barb uttered.

“Holy fucking shit balls!” I could barely whisper. “I think I just grew some hair on my chest.”

Fred and Barb looked at me and started laughing. I joined them. A few minutes later, Emma knocked on my door.

“Marie? All of the guards who could make it are here. Four couldn’t make it as due to their hospitalization.”

“Emma, who has been hospitalized and why have they been hospitalized?”

“I don’t remember their names but they work in the northeast corner of the third floor. There was an incident while you were in Russia just before you were in Italy. A nut job was trying to get your while your doppelgänger was in the Middle East. He thought you’re a part of the regime there instead of working for the good. The nut job threw a few Molotov cocktails threw the window followed by a few grenades. Due to the poor quality of the Molotov cocktails, they didn’t go off but just broke and because of the fumes and the guards coughing, the guards didn’t realize that grenades followed. Unfortunately, the grenades went off. None of the guards were killed but they have lung issues, deep bruises and abrasions all over their bodies. They should be released in a few weeks.”

“Reach out to them and their families. Let them know that all medical bills will be paid directly by me and if they need help with any other bills, I will personally cover the costs. They are not to return until they have been medically cleared by the hospital staff and my personal physician and they will be earning seventy five percent of their pay effective immediately and they will also get back pay for any pay that has been missed.”

“Got it.”

“Thanks so much, Emma. When the guards are ready, have them squeeze into my office.”

She nodded then left. The guards started to trickle in slowly. It was a tight squeeze for all of them to fit and some had to stand just outside of my office.

“Hey, everyone. Sorry for the short notice but important meeting. Four of your crew are missing and I hope you all understand why. It has come to my attention that during my absences and the places that both my doppelgänger and I have been that working conditions under Charlene have been difficult for many and also great for others. Moving forward, the guards that have been working inside….you will be working out in the shacks until further notice. Charlene, I’ve been told, has told you to not cover the shifts outside. This made your colleagues miss celebrations, funerals, doctors appointments and other significant dates. I don’t know how long this change will last. This means that starting your next shift, the guards outside will now report for duty inside and those working inside will now report for duty outside. Charlene’s second in command, Bobby, and Fred from the northern shack will work together this afternoon to work on that. In regards of pay, it will slowly increase to what is demanded of armed security guards keeping this property, building, the staff and ultimately me safe. I will bring in some of my former colleagues from my other jobs to help with third shift. They are licensed and bonded and will carry their personal weapons. They know that you are the rightful protectors here and will be support to you. Moving forward, if someone calls out or takes time off – no matter the reason, you will all step in to cover shifts. Those that never covered shifts will start. You will all be paid for any overtime worked – provide support and submit it to the finance department so they can do the math. Once submitted and approved, they will send it to me for final approval. As for the lack of budget that your department hasn’t had for fifteen years….you guys have had the budget. Charlene hid it from me, the other prime ministers, Bobby and yourselves. The shacks will be used until new ones are being constructed. Each new shack will be fitted for a bathroom with a sink, a full fridge, a sink in the main area, better and new technology, security cameras all around each shack, better desks and chairs, microwaves, better insulation. There will be aircon in the summers and heat in the winters. I have several construction companies ready to start work tomorrow morning. With the number of crews out there, it will be not only expensive but it should be done in the next three months. It will take that long as they still need licenses each step like for plumbing, electrical and all that stuff. Any questions?”

There was some silence and some grumbling quietly.

“I know that this may seem unfair to many of you, especially the ones that have been working inside. Upon talking with Fred and Bobby, not only were shifts supposed to be rotated but working inside versus outside but weren't. I am not making this switch to punish you for anything Charlene has done or hasn't done. I am doing this to make sure it is fair and even for all of you. I am also adding more sick days and paid bereavement time. None of you have control when you or a loved one gets sick. If you do need more sick days, whomever is up next to cover your day will cover your day. Submit all requested bereavement days to me. One last thing, IT and I will be working hand in hand to create an all encompassing app for this particular department. We’re not sure what it’s going to be called. Any time you want to request a sick day or PTO, enter the days you’re requesting through the app. Your sick days will be approved by the administrators of the app in a matter of thirty to sixty minutes. PTO needs to be submitted no less than seven days before your wished time off. The administrators of the app will send the information to Bobby, Fred and I. For now, I will be in charge of approving PTO. As for submitting bereavement time, email me with your name, the name of the person that has died and the connection they are to you. Are they a relative, family friend, spouse or spouse’s family member like parents and/or siblings? From there, I will investigate the nature of the connection. Depending on the proximity of the deceased one, your bereavement time off will be between several days to two weeks. This time will also be paid at sixty percent of your base pay.”

There were a few less mumbles and grumbles.

“For now, there is no active department head for security. Bobby, Fred and I will be working as a team until the three of us feel comfortable with Bobby and Fred can take the department back into their hands. My plan and hope is that Bobby and Fred are both the directors of your department as they are both trusted and respected by all of you. If they feel that they can show to me and to you that they can work together, they will. They will work as a checks and balances. Fair?”

The mumbles and grumbles that I just received were mostly the guards saying “fair”. I know that they were going to miss Charlene and will for a long time. They were loyal to her and the previous prime ministers. These changes weren’t going to be easy and it’d take time for the guards to get used to the changes…..I just hoped that they would come around and quickly.

The guards left so they could back to work and lift the lockdown. Bobby and Fred just sat there. They were going to need a ton of help and in a day or so, I wouldn’t be able to help them through the first week of changes. I didn’t want to feel guilty but I did. I stepped out of my office and asked for my staff to step in.

“You all know what’s going on. In a day or so, I’ll be gone and not sure for how long. Charlene is gone and Bobby and Fred have a ton of work to do. I know that all of you have your own specific roles here too but if you guys can, spare some time for them as I won’t be here to help. I may be on a diplomatic mission with limited personal security, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me – all of you can reach out to me. Barb, I want you to be a part of leadership while I’m away but it won’t be easy. Please pick up to three others to help you out. Assign yourself tasks that you know that you can handle on top of your normal stuff. When Barb picks her team, she will let them and the rest of you know. Now, are we expecting word from Bahrain anytime soon or can I step out for an hour to pick up two phones? I need to upgrade my personal one as it’s European and the second one will be just for us in this department plus Bobby and Fred. I will keep the one that this office provided me but everyone in the building has the number for it. Nothing wrong with that but I want to keep my personal stuff personal, work stuff in this department plus Bobby and Fred related to this department and this building all separate from each other.”

She nodded as I got up from the desk. I needed to leave to get the rest of my day going, including picking up the cell phones.