Free Point of No Return by Rita Henuber Page B

paid. Ex-military can make as much in a four-year contract with us as they can in twenty with Uncle Sam.”
    Mac’s mouth twisted, waiting impatiently for his boss to stop talking. “We get instructors who can take basic skills to a high level of skills.” He was done letting Bristol talk. “We train for every conceivable scenario in urban, in home, at work, in transit, personal client protection. We have a simulated village, a kill house, a four-story rappelling house. A group of houses with obstacles and moving targets. A pool and a three-acre pond for water drills. The guys I send are well trained.”
    “The guys we send,” Bristol corrected.
    Mac shot Bristol a hot look.
    “I’m looking forward to seeing the training.” She looked at Bristol. “What’s the employee selection process?”
    “Instructors go through apps and finds. Three senior instructors and I make the final decisions on hiring.”
    “Finds?” Honey said.
    “We search police and military systems worldwide for potential employees,” Bristol said.
    “We’re an international force, and if we have a team, say, in the Philippines and someone who can speak the local language, Tagalog, it sure makes things easier,” Mac said.
    That explained why there were so many foreign nationals on the payroll.
    “The process is mostly electronic. Tomorrow, the tech center director and I will tell you more about how we get into the selection,” Mac finished.
    “Mac’s given us all he can,” Bristol said. “Let’s move on.”
    “Pleasure meeting you.” Honey extended her hand to the man.
    “Same here,” Mac said as they shook.
    Honey made a note to schedule private time with him. Mac didn’t care for his boss. Bristol was oblivious or didn’t give a damn.
    They moved on to the medical center, where the medic in charge gave them a tour of a well-equipped small hospital and briefly explained the training.
    As they left, Bristol looked at his watch. “It’s after two. How ’bout a late lunch?”
    “Thanks, but I’d rather see the control center.”
    “Not a lot there, just computers and operators.”
    “Then I can be in and out and on my way.”
    He shrugged. In minutes they were at the partially underground control center. An array of satellite dishes taking up a good acre of land stood to the side of the building. Before entering, Bristol paused and pointed to the grass-covered roof. “Four feet of dirt over three feet of reinforced concrete. Don’t ask me why. The experts said this design was the best for what we wanted.”
    Honey knew. It was aerial-bomb-safe technology. Why they had installed it was the question. Bristol swiped them into a small vestibule. A beep, another card swipe and the door on the opposite wall swished opened to a room resembling the situation room at the Pentagon. Inside the chilled room, four techs sat at ergonomic desks loaded with phones, printers and three monitors. Massive monitor screens took up three walls. The doors swooshed again and Honey turned to see an attractive red-haired women entering. The second woman she’d seen in the facility was dressed casually in jeans, the company black polo and a Blazer.
    “Major, Kathryn Porter. She’s our technology chief.”
    She gave Honey a bored look from almond-shaped eyes that had a feline quality. “Major, what can I tell you about the center?”
    Honey offered her hand and she took it. “Why don’t you give me the standard spiel. If I have a question I’ll stop you.”
    “I don’t have a spiel,” she said testily and jammed her hands into the blazer pockets. “We have few visitors here.”
    “I meant no offense.” Honey looked to her left. “Start here and go around with a brief overview. I’ll be back another day for more details.”
    “Certainly. I saw you were with Mac and visited the med center.”
    “You saw I visited? Ah, yes.” She smiled. “I’ll have to get used to being watched like the NSA’s stalking me.” Man, Coop was going to