Double Black Diamond
to a fist or some other unforgiving object once or twice.“What do you want?” he said.
I licked my dry lips. “Um, I’m Nic—Nicole Rossi. I’m here to see D’Andre Brown—”
He grimaced. “No names. What’s the password?”
I shifted my suitcase in my sweaty palm, wishing I’d used the restroom in the lobby. “What? I don’t know. I wasn’t given one.”
He shook his head. “Sorry. Can’t let you in without it.” He closed the door.
I stood, head swimming, until I heard a muffled snort of laughter from inside. The door opened again.
“Just messing with you. C’mon in. I’m Mark Cooley, daytime team lead.” He stuck out his hand to shake mine.
Instead, I dropped my suitcase in it and stepped past him. “Nicole Rossi. Nice to meet you.”
Brown and two more men waited beside a small round dining table. My boss looked sour, while the other two snickered at Cooley’s stupid joke, or maybe at my response.
A faux leather couch, two armchairs, a TV, and a coffee table shared the space with a desk and the dining table, while a kitchenette took up the other half of the suite. A window overlooking snow-covered Vail Mountain stretched across the wall behind the men. In a separate room to the right, I glimpsed a squared away bed. Brown’s suite would be our headquarters, he’d told me. The place was nicer than Mom’s apartment.
Brown gestured to one of the other men. This one had wavy brown hair and skin pinked with sunburn. “Nicole, this is Bart, our logistics expert and driver.”
“Casey Bartholomew. A pleasure to meet you.” He had an English accent.
The fourth man had chestnut hair, uneven olive skin with some acne scarring, and round glasses. “Noah Kovitch. Nighttime team lead.”
All of them were six feet tall, plus or minus an inch or two, fit but not ripped, with short haircuts and clean-cut faces. None stood out for any physical reason—perfect for blending into most situations as CPOs. And they were all at least five years older than me.
I studied them, and they studied me right back. I wore jeans, heavy boots, and my winter coat. I’d thought casual dress was the right choice, given that I was headed to VMA to meet Veena after this, but the dubious looks on their faces made me wish I’d dressed more professionally. I tugged on the end of my ponytail, smoothing out the static.
“Have you eaten?” Brown asked.
“Yes, sir. I’m good.” I hadn’t, to be honest, but I had no appetite right now.
“Then let’s get started. We have a lot to cover.”
I slid out of my coat, and we settled around a table covered in folders, electronics, and several to-go cups of coffee.
“We’ll talk about the schedule first.” Brown pulled reading glasses from his forehead onto the end of his nose and opened a laptop. “Bart is in charge of logistics, including transportation. He’ll provide us with the principal’s daily agenda, arrange and organize resources, and work up any new intelligence.” His eyes flicked to mine over the glasses. “You know what a principal is?”
I know I just graduated, but how much of an idiot did he think I was? “Of course. Veena.”
“Black Diamond,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“Black Diamond is your principal’s code name. We never call them by their names when talking to each other. While we’re on the subject, as a safety measure, we use nicknames or code names for ourselves as well.” His expression grew subtly sarcastic. “But of course, you knew that, too.” The others smirked.
I actually did know, thanks.
Black Diamond . . . I’d read online that ski resorts categorize their slopes by level of difficulty. They posted signs at the tops of runs to let people know what they were getting themselves into. Green circles were for beginners, blue squares were intermediate, and black diamonds were expert level. Double black diamond was neck-breaking territory.
Brown went on. “You will stay with Black Diamond at all times, of course, except your hours off. Cooley and his team will be your support at VMA during the day. Kovitch and his team are on at night. Bart and I will be here, coordinating. We’ll meet via teleconference daily.”
Got it. My job was to protect Veena. Brown made decisions; Bart was support. Cooley, Kovitch, and their teams would spell me, and if necessary, deal with any would-be attackers while I removed Veena from the situation. As Xene often told us, if the CPO had to fight, they’d already lost.
“What’s our comm system?” I asked.
Bart handed me a box. Inside was an Apple watch. The time and date glowed green from the square black face.
“It’s modified with a military-grade GPS tracking system. From here”— he touched Brown’s laptop—“we can monitor BD and coordinate with the teams, and you can reach us instantly from the watch with a voice command, text, or video call. I’ll show you how to use it later.”
“And what do I call you all?” I tried not to sound pissy.
Kovitch pointed at Brown, Cooley, then Bart. “Chief, Ice, and . . . Bart.” He shrugged. “And I’m Owl.”
My eyebrow quirked. “Owl?”
He rubbed his jaw but didn’t answer. Cooley happily shared.
“Short story involving a noisy owl and a trigger happy Kovitch on his first assignment.”
I tried on a tentative smile as they all laughed. “So what’s my code name?”
Brown threw me a look that seemed to say he’d warned me.
“Green,” Cooley answered. The guys guffawed.
Green. Greenie. A beginner.
I should have known.
Three
About an hour later, Bart drove me to campus.
Before we’d left the inn, he’d trained me to use my new watch. I’d never owned something so slick. I’d met Cooley and Kovitch’s all-male teams, and I’d suffered through plenty of hints that they thought I wasn’t old enough, experienced enough, or male enough to do this job. Assholes.
But jerks or not, their jokes had hit home. Brown, Xene, and now the team were worried about all the ways I was lacking. The doubts about my abilities wormed through my head during the short drive to