understandable.
Every member of the elite law enforcement task force known as Omega Sector remained determined not to be caught unawares again.
The psychopath at the last wedding had been arrested, and fortunately, no one had been hurt. But everyone knew that as long as Damien Freihof, the mastermind behind the recent attacks against Omega, remained at large, none of them would be safe.
So every agent at Brandon Han and Andrea Gordon’s wedding had some sort of holster. Waist, shoulder or ankle for most. A few of the female agents probably had weapons strapped to their thighs or in their evening clutch bags. None of the sidearms were noticeable, but they were there.
Roman Weber had one at both his waist and his ankle. And there was no way he was letting his guard down tonight.
Thanks to Damien Freihof, Roman hadn’t even been able to attend the last Omega Sector wedding. He’d been too busy coming out of a coma from an explosion Freihof had carefully planned. Another Omega Sector agent had been killed. If Roman had been two feet closer to the blast, he would’ve been killed, too.
So no, Roman wasn’t interested in laughing and drinking and dancing, even if many of his closest friends were in the room. Instead, he kept finding his eyes drawn to the multiple entrances to the ballroom of the ski resort here in Colorado Springs, where the reception was being held.
Two main doors leading into the resort, three separate kitchen entrances, and a set of double doors heading out to a terrace. Freihof could attempt to make his way through any of them.
He was around. Roman hadn’t seen the man anywhere, but knew in his gut that Freihof was nearby today. The man was so good at disguise it was possible he already waited here inside the room, although Roman didn’t think so. There were too many trained agents looking for Freihof for him to risk it.
The guy was a psycho, but he wasn’t stupid.
Still, Roman walked over to the shadows closer to the main doors. Just in case.
“See anything suspicious?”
Roman knew Steve Drackett, director of Omega Sector’s Critical Response Division, was present before he spoke. Grace Parker, Omega’s head psychiatrist, stood beside him.
“No. But it doesn’t hurt to keep looking.”
Steve nodded. “Damn right about that.”
Something inside Roman eased slightly. His boss didn’t think he was paranoid. Didn’t think searching for Freihof in the shadows of a wedding was being overly cautious.
Steve slapped Roman on the shoulder. “But you do know that watching for Freihof isn’t solely your responsibility.”
“Maybe not. But it’s definitely something I take personally.”
Grace smiled at him, tucking a strand of her silver hair behind her ear. “If you didn’t take it personally, given what happened, I’d be a lot more concerned.”
Roman had spent a lot of time talking to Grace over the past few weeks. The older woman would ultimately be the one who cleared him for active duty once he was cleared physically.
The required sessions with her had been pretty agonizing at first. Roman wasn’t a sit-around-and-get-in-touch-with-his-feelings sort of guy. But Grace had made him feel comfortable. She had an air about her that never judged or condescended.
She’d helped him realize how damn pissed off he was that he’d almost died. That Damien Freihof had almost killed him. That it was only sheer blind luck Roman was alive today.
And that all those feelings were normal.
“Am I acting crazy, Doc?”
Grace gave a delicate shrug. “You’re acting aware and vigilant. Again, nothing wrong with that.”
“I just want to catch this son of a bitch.” Roman gritted his teeth just thinking about Freihof.
Steve squeezed his shoulder. “Your medical doctor said you would be clear for active duty next week.”
Roman noticed Steve didn’t say anything about Grace clearing him mentally. His behavior here tonight wasn’t helping. He all but itched with the desire to get back out with his SWAT team on active missions. Desk work was killing him one minute at a time. But active duty was a no-go until he was cleared by both the Omega physician and the psychiatrist.
“Okay, I’ve got a beautiful family who need my attention.” Steve grinned as he looked to where his new wife held their two-week-old son at one of the tables surrounding the dance floor. “Roman, you let me know if you think something’s not right. But on the other hand, you’re not the only one on duty tonight. Hell, you’re not even on duty at all.”
Roman and Grace watched Steve walk across the room to his family. Neither of them said anything right away. Roman was going to try to outwait the older woman, but knew that she would win that battle. The psychiatrist had much more practice at the waiting-out-silence game.
“I noticed Steve said that I’d be physically cleared for active duty next week, but he didn’t say anything about being cleared by you,” Roman finally said, not looking at Grace.
“Do you think you’re ready for duty, mentally? Emotionally?” she asked.
“I know that sitting at a desk is doing more harm to my mental health than being active and back out with the team would do.”
“And is that what you think I should say in my report?” Grace raised one eyebrow.
Roman had long since learned that almost every statement he gave to Grace would result in another question from her. It didn’t bother him anymore. He knew it was just her way of getting him to think through answers for himself.
Grace Parker was a brilliant psychiatrist. She worked with all sorts of people at Omega Sector: agents, victims, and had even acted as the SWAT team’s medical doctor in a few emergency situations. If she wasn’t twenty or so years older than his own thirty-one, he might have made a move on her long before now. Not that she would’ve taken him up on the offer.
“You want me to say whether I think I’m ready or not,” Roman said.
“Ultimately, that’s what really matters, isn’t it?”
“Not on the piece of paper, it’s not. Only your opinion matters, not mine.” Roman trusted Grace to give an honest judgment and not hold him back if she thought he was fit for duty.
But damn it, he wanted so badly to be back out in the field he could practically taste it.
“Do you think that I think you’re ready?” she asked, turning toward him.
“I would hope so.”
“Do you think I think you think I think you’re ready?”
Roman tried to wrap his brain around that statement, until he realized Grace was grinning.
“Now you’re just messing with me,” he said, shaking his head.
Her soft
