WORD COUNT: 3,114

PART ONE

"Okay, and what exactly is that?"

Rios turned around and looked across the huge, ornately furnished living-room area to where his new client, Raphael Aziz, was pointing an accusatory finger. Then, frowning, he turned back to him, pushing down the sudden flash of memory of first meeting Elliot, in Somalia, nearly a decade ago.

"My partner, Salem. The rest of your personal protection detail, Mr. Aziz."

"I ordered, requested bodyguards, Mr. Rios," he said accentuating every syllable, "You," he continued spreading his arms wide right and left and then head to toe, while looking Rios up and down, "I accept. That, well no. Your firm promised me protection, and by protection I pictured well more of, well, you."

Rios nodded and turned to face Salem. Giddy was working to finish wiring the smaller man's comms, while Salem shrugged his shoulders and twisted his neck trying to get comfortable in the dark gray, Armani suit and tie. Tyson smiled wanly at him, knowing that he'd heard the client's complaint.

"I need someone big enough to block bullets. That one is smaller than I am. Unacceptable, Mr. Rios. Who do I call to facilitate this change?"

Rios bit back his anger, "Mr. Aziz, you would call our contract writer Ms. Murray, but she chose Salem, and she will not facilitate any changes in her teams," then sternly, "Salem and I are a team. We're it, Aziz."

Aziz fumed, irritated at such a blatant disregard for his self-importance. Defeated, he threw his hands up in the air and paced in a circle while rubbing his soft, pale, ring covered hand back across his shiny bald head. Finally, just as Salem joined Rios, he stopped and faced the big operator again.

"Fine, but if anything happens to my family, I will sue your company; and I will sue you both," then pointing at Salem, "and you, you had better protect us with your life, if Mitkov tries anything. Got me?"

Salem smiled and nodded, "Yes, sir," he replied smartly snapping off a two fingered salute, "Copy that, Mr. Aziz, sir."

Rios rolled his eyes and knew that Murray back at HQ was rolling hers. Before anyone else could respond, Giddy called for a comms check.

The next couple of weeks found Salem and Rios shadowing the Aziz family to various functions, Aziz's workplace, the children's school, and dinners at expensive restaurants. SSC was also providing a twelve man tactical team, headed up by Yarbrough, to secure the Aziz compound. The huge Mediterranean styled villa was located on a private island housing only ten residences. If Salem had had a choice he would have jumped ship, despite his disdain for Yarbrough, and joined the villa team. Tramping around in a fancy suit and standing outside of various doors didn't sit well with him. The only decent part of the mission was watching the two Aziz kids play soccer. That and when the villa team took over, for five hours, so that they could, providing that Aziz didn't decide to go to his office downtown, get some sleep.

On the eleventh morning, a Wednesday, Salem was shuffling up the paver clad driveway after jogging his regular five miles, hands on his narrow hips trying to catch his breath en route to the huge Aziz villa gym. It was located in the north wing of the villa adjacent to the beach and the black, infinity pool. Raphael Aziz, at his wife's nagging, granted them access to the room. She, unlike her husband, respected them and was grateful for their diligence. Salem was surprised to find her already there, three hours early, riding her Spin Session. She nodded at him and then refocused on the small monitor. Rios was not there that morning, because he had an early briefing with HQ. After nodding back, he moved to the leg machine, set it up and began his Wednesday routine. The room smelled of lavender, not at all like any gym he was familiar with. The scent was strong and always made his nose tingle.

Halfway through, he looked up and noticed Mia Aziz standing over him wiping her face with a brilliant white towel.

"How was your run?" She asked her Spanish accent giving her voice a bit of a lilt.

"Good," he said letting the 180 pounds of weights back down wincing when his right knee popped a little, "Pretty humid out already. Probably in for some rain. I could smell it in the air. Hope the kids' soccer practice doesn't get canceled."

Mia smiled. She'd noticed that he seemed to enjoy watching the kids play and knew that he looked forward to the break in the routine, "Me too. Raphael will only take time from work to attend soccer, so it is our only family time. Do you have children, Mr. Salem? They must miss you on these long contracts."

He stood up and smiled a little, "No, ma'am, and call me Salem. Salem is fine."

"Si, so you keep saying."

Salem looked away shyly. She was a beautiful woman. Dark eyes, bronze Mediterranean skin and the endless legs of a model. At five feet eleven and a half, she was taller than him, but unlike when he was around Rios' wife Samantha, Ms. Aziz didn't make him feel small. He liked her.

"The kids really like you. Mr. Rios scares them a bit I think, his size and well," she hesitated and frowned, "Well the scarring," she trailed off gently touching her right flushed right cheek.

"Eh," Salem grunted, moving to the arm curling machine, "Rios is a big baby. His daughter can kick his fat…well his butt and she's only nine."

Mia chuckled, "We really do appreciate you all being here until the FBI finds Mitkov. The entire mess has been terrifying."

Salem started curling the weights with his right arm, "It's what we get paid for, ma'am."

Mia chuckled. She'd been trying get him alone for some time, and when she'd learned that Rios would not be working out that morning she got up at 4:30 a.m. and headed for the gym. Salem had said very little during his stay with them, only speaking when spoken to. Rios constantly ordered the smaller man around, and it irked her. If, as the huge man had stated, Salem was a superb operator why boss him around like a recalcitrant child? The dynamic between the two was both strained but, she felt, also quite close. She could tell by the way Salem looked to Rios for approval. It was an almost childlike behavior. He intrigued her.

"So, this nine year old, you and her are close?"

"Huh, oh And-A-Half?" he muttered switching arms, "she's And-A-Half."

Mia raised her this, dark, perfect eyebrows in confusion, "And-A-Half?"

"Rios and me, they call us the Army of Two, because we always work as a duo. Then came his daughter, making us two and a half. Close as I'll ever get to bein' a dad."

"How long have you and Mr. Rios been an army of two?"

Salem stopped and shook his arms out, then added five pounds to the machine, "Always," he replied curtly sitting down again.

Mia shifted her weight and pulled her right leg up and back stretching her calf muscles, "Always is a long time."

"Yea, it is that," Salem grumbled a bit morosely. Then he stopped lifting and swung his right arm back and forth shaking out the kinks in his battered shoulder, "Won't the kids be getting up soon?"

Mia laughed and switched legs, "No, the nanny will get them moving around seven. It's only 5:45."

He grunted and moved along the line of equipment to the bench pressing machine. Mia tagged along behind him. He was so small compared to Rios. Barely five foot ten with the narrowest hips she'd ever seen on a man his size. Despite his small stature, he was remarkably muscular though. All of it, she thought, was hard earned and harder to keep. His broad shoulders and back muscles rippled beneath the tight gray tank top that he was wearing. She watched the fine pale scarring on his right shoulder snake back and forth as his arms swung. Some of the scarring was old but some looked much newer. They cut through the coloring of the huge dragon tattoo that covered his upper most shoulder. A dragon. Mia smiled, what did that say about him?

When he reached the bench machine, she stopped and stood at the bottom while he set the weights. The machines had never been pressed to use such heavy weights before. Raphael seldom went above one hundred pounds and stuck more to the treadmill and the Spin bikes. She watched Salem settle onto the bench, shuffle his feet on the padded floor to get comfortable and flex his gloved hands in preparation to lifting.

"These poor machines are getting a real workout with you two here," she said sipping her mineral water, "Raphie can't lift nearly the weight that you and Mr. Rios do."

Salem groaned inwardly. Why wouldn't she just go away? He considered asking her to leave but feared the comment would get back to Mr. Rios. She was too curious. He wanted to tell her that what was on the surface only hid the broken mess that he was inside which was a place that she would never glimpse. She wouldn't understand though, no-one ever did.

"Well, ma'am," he said after his third lift through an exhale, "we all don't need to be able to bench press their three hundred pound, dying partner and tote him five klicks to extraction."

Mia furrowed her brow at the remark and cocked her head to the left, "No! Madre de Dios, you have had to carry Mr. Rios?"

"I have had to carry Mr. Rios," he replied dryly.

The reply hung between them, for what seemed a lifetime to Salem. He continued lifting, wondering what she would ask next. He didn't want to remember carrying Tyson. That was why he refused to discuss work. He could imagine what she was envisioning. Two powerful men fighting through hoards of enemies, getting out unscathed and going home untouched. It was all such a load of bullshit. He started to say as much and annoyed let the weights drop down roughly after the last rep. She stepped back slightly, possibly finally getting the hint.

Mia was startled by the loud bang. She watched him sit up and use the bottom of the faded gray SSC shirt to wipe his sweaty, stubble clad face. His stomach was just as sculpted as his back and shoulders, but what leapt out at her was the thick scarring running from his sternum to his navel. It shocked her, and she bit her lip taken aback. Such a beautiful body marred so horribly. The look on his face when he lowered the shirt was warning enough not to ask about it. He noted her alarm and sniffled before standing up to change the weight.

"Took a round to the chest," he grumbled dismissively while turning away. Then, pulling the pin on the stack of plates, "Tyson carried me thirteen klicks," he continued curtly, while slamming the pin into place with the palm of his left hand ten pounds heavier. Finally, after sitting back on the bench, he looked up at her sternly, "guess the math works out, evens us up."

Mia blinked, cleared her throat, and sipped her water again. How did you respond to that? She doubted he would appreciate pity. As he had already said, it was what they were paid for. He started lifting, and she watched his muscles struggling with the added plates. He was a baffling man, and she was even more determined to unravel him. Dragons and dice and flames…The art historian in her tried to piece together the symbolism.

"I suppose that maybe it does, Salem," she said evenly. He was closing down, not that he'd ever opened up, "See I even called you just Salem."

To her surprise, he paused and actually gave a lopsided smile. Not the full-on, genuine smile that reached his eyes, the one that he offered to Mr. Rios but a smile. His life seemed to revolve around Mr. Rios. Mia had witnessed enough dysfunctional relationships to see the cracks in this one. He finished lifting and sat back up. Then he reached down, pulled up the leg of his black sweat pants, and adjusted the holster tightly strapped to his right ankle. The pair were always armed and always connected to the communication network with the villa team, via ear buds. It was a twenty-four-seven assignment. When they slept, if they slept, she knew that Salem often plodded around the grounds restlessly at night, they were still technically on duty. If Raphael wanted to go to the office at two in the morning then the duo was up and ready to go. That level of commitment went above just making a pay check. They were prepared to die for her family. Would he truly so readily take a bullet for one of them just to earn his pay check? Probably, she thought, but definitely if Mr. Rios ordered him to.

The holster adjusted, he stood and began changing out the weights once again. Suddenly, he stopped and cocked his head back an to the left. Then, he nodded.

PART TWO

"We need to go," he snapped firmly, snatching the handgun from the holster, checking that it was charged and moving toward her. He wrapped his left arm around her shoulders pressing her down and around in front of himself. Then, using his sweaty body as a shield, he hustled her out of the gym and into the main house. Pressed so close to his chest, Mia could smell the muskiness of his sweat, mixed with what she thought might be sandalwood, as they moved directly to an interior room. They had designated octagon shaped library as a safe room, and commandeered it as their HQ. There they met Rios, the children, the nanny and Rafael. Salem pressed her into a chair near the children and turning took his tactical vest and Galil from Rios.

"Sitrep?" he asked tersely while closing the heavy, re-enforced wooden double doors. Then, turning back toward them, he ran his left hand back through his sweaty hair before re-holstering the handgun.

Rios nodded, "Contacts quadrant GOLF. Three heat signatures. Yankee is on it. Suit up."

"Copy that," Salem replied, rapidly crossing the room to where his military cot was set up. There he quickly and efficiently donned cargo pants, put on a long sleeved tee shirt before equipping his tactical vest. Then he shoved his feet into his boots. Finally, he placed mask atop his head and slung the Galil over his right shoulder. Dressed he assumed a position on the right hand side of the door.

The family sat, as they had been schooled to do, silently listening to the the two men communicating with the outside team.

"Copy that, Yankee. Tango One down. Salem do you have comms with Yankee?" Rios asked his brow furrowed.

The smaller man shook his head and shrugged, "Negative."

"Negative. M.I.T. Get on that. We are half deaf in here."

Shortly after that, Salem tapped his right ear and gave Rios a thumbs up.

As a seemingly endless forty-five minutes ticked by, the sound of Salem charging the Galil cracked through the room, and he began pacing. His attention heightened by something that he'd heard over comms. Mia thought that he looked liked the tiger at the zoo. Lithe and powerful…a deadly mix powered by raw muscle and pure instinct. It frightened and excited her. Both men, it appeared, hated not being a part of the action outside, and the pacing was just force of habit. Waiting was much more difficult than acting. Rios finally sat down behind the bank of monitors again, and Mia watched his head and eyes scan back and forth. They both performed their tasks with an absolute confidence and calmness that she could not force herself to feel. Her family's home was under assault, and here were their protectors almost casually taking action to save them. Rios' gruff voice drew her attention.

"Go ahead, Yankee. Copy that Tango Two eliminated. Tango Three apprehended. Yankee, sweep the grounds and handle the locals if any show up," Rios said casually while tapping away on his keyboards.

"Negative on locals, Alpha. Cleaners are en route, and Tango Three will be ex-filled by the snatch team. Yankee out."

"Copy, Yankee. Two terminated. One in hand. Alpha out."

Rios stood up and slung his weapon round behind his broad back, "Sir, Ma'am the threat has been eliminated. Yankee team is sweeping the grounds again, but we are clear. You can all return to you morning routine."

The nanny and the kids all filed out of the room, but Rafael and Mia hung back.

"Two terminated, Mr. Rios?" Aziz asked seriously, eyeing the big operator curiously.

"Yes, sir. The third is en route to HQ for questioning."

"I see. And the neighbors?"

Rios shook his head, "All weapons were silenced. The clean up team is on the way and no-one will be the wiser."

"Very good. And the the local authorities…police?"

"Again, Mr. Aziz, you hired us, because we are the best choice for protecting you and your family, and we are. Part of that skill-set is our ability for absolute discretion."

Mia shook her head and covered her mouth with the back of her hand, "But eliminated…could they not have been, well maybe captured as well?"

"Ma'am how they ended up this morning was their choice not ours. Our sole objective is to provide your family security at all cost. Also, you tasked us with finding and eliminating Mitkov. Our interrogators will help with that. I apologies for any discomfort," Rios explained. Then, "You are, after all, paying us to eliminate the threat against your family. We follow through. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to report in."

Aziz nodded, reached out and shook Rios' hand, "Very good, very good. Right then…see you at 0700."

"Sir," Salem said before the man could exit the room, his voice pitched lower than normal "If I can offer a suggestion, a tactical suggestion?"

Aziz looked toward him his derision plain, then frowning nodded, "Speak."

Salem looked at Rios and cleared his throat, "Since Mitkov has now made a a direct, a blatant assault against you, I suggest were go full tactical. No more spiffy suits and such. I understand upholding appearances…"

"What do you think, Mr. Rios?" Aziz interjected deferring to Rios who he still considered superior due to his size.

"I agree with Salem, Sir. We will be as discrete as possible. But in he event of an all-out assault we will be better able to protect you with full tactical gear."

"So be it then. See you soon, Mr. Rios."