Free The Perfect Candidate: A Lance Priest / Preacher Thriller (No. 1) by Christopher Metcalf Page A

field surveillance instances such as this where he is detected, protocol calls for playing gay. He had become quite good at it. One time in a delightful seaside cafe in Majorca surveilling a team of Serbian arms dealers to determine which one was a KGB agent, Braden was nailed cold by one of the men. The man rose rather abruptly and approached him in a menacing manner. Braden escaped harm by affecting a lilting French accent and commenting on the guy’s excellent choice in slacks. Interestingly, the chap turned out to be both KGB and homosexual.
    His current evaluation subject didn’t present any obvious danger. If anything, Mr. Priest looked the nonviolent type. Braden wrote possibly unable to act with violence on his sheet. He returned to the word comfortable.
    He had sat in on interviews with cold-blooded murderers who were also incredibly comfortable. They sat by calmly as insults and threats were hurled at them by interrogators. But below the surface and only flashed in the briefest of moments with a squint or a fleeting eye roll, was a torrent of evil. These moments gave bad guys away. In these situations, Braden was able to step out of the interview room and give the investigating officer or interrogating agent a sliver of insight to use as a wedge to begin unraveling the subject. He’d done it dozens of times over the years.
    His now bulky file on Subject Priest held a number of details indicating levels of narcissism and detachment, but nothing in stone. Priest was just a naturally calm and at-ease individual. And then there was the lying.
    But just like that, Braden knew he was made. No doubt about it. Candidate Priest met his glance and smiled. The exchange lasted a fraction of a second, but in that moment, Braden knew his attention and focus had given him away. He followed protocol and averted his eyes for 30 seconds and then brought his attention back to Lance. The kid’s second smile at him made it clear he was aware. Not good. Impressive on the kid’s part, but not good. Not a real big deal because of the logistics of the classroom and the absence of firearms, but the next phase would need to be timeline advanced. Further observation would be completed by video surveillance. Braden didn’t like videotape. Didn’t trust it. He preferred to see his subjects in person to be able to catch the details that two-dimensional video and its accompanying bad audio often missed.
    As planned, Braden dropped his pencil and bent to pick it up. When he returned to sitting position, he and the exam monitor exchanged a glance. The exam monitor, a man of 50 or so with unruly hair, dirty glasses and jacket with elbow patches, stood. “Your attention please, you have two minutes to complete this portion of the exam.” He announced to the room. Most had finished, but a few still working on their answers released sighs of exasperation and ran fingers through their hair or rubbed their brows.
    The exam monitor moved closer and took a position directly between Lance and Braden, creating a momentary visual barrier. He then cleared his throat. When Lance looked at the gentleman, Braden got up and bolted out the door. The professorial gent smiled and turned to finish his rounds of the room.
     
    All of this went as planned. All of it except the part where Lance saw the entire thing unfold. He watched the replay again from above. At the time, he couldn’t be 100 percent certain the guy he knew as Marsco was only watching him. Now he was sure.
    He was used to it of course – the watching. Even though he worshipped anonymity, Lance had always garnered the attention of others. Girls in elementary school stalked him in games of kissing tag on the playground. Older girls whispered to their friends as he walked by in high school hallways. And dudes who liked to kiss other dudes could never be sure if he was one of them or not. Marsco appeared on the surface to be this type. But something tugged at Lance and told him there was another