“Next, we have this. It’s a cross pin, see? The jewels at each point do something. Video, audio.” He lifted the device and showed Aaron. “It’s active as well.”
Kreed placed the cross on the empty front pocket of Aaron’s dress shirt, letting his finger brush lightly across a nipple ring before reaching low to unbuckle his belt. Aaron’s breath hitched, his stomach muscles tensing slightly, before he batted Kreed’s hands away.
“Hey, what’re you doing?” Aaron’s eyes met his.
“As if we don’t have enough already, consider this backup. If something happens and everything else fails, we’ll still be able to get you out.” Kreed lifted his palm to show an encasing for his buckle. It didn’t replace it, but fit perfectly over the top. Kreed had insisted on this particular belt over all the cooler ones on display for this very reason. Kreed unbuckled the belt, clipped the piece in place, and when he started to re-buckle the belt, Aaron again swatted at his hands.
“I got it.” Aaron moved a step away, and Kreed watched as the kid straightened his clothing.
“From this moment forward, we’re a team. You blink and I know about it. Teamwork’s the only way to properly pull this off. You have your job. I have mine. Connors and Brown have theirs, and they’re both listening right now. We’re fluid and responsible for one another.” Kreed reached over for the ankle holster containing the Glock he’d been saving for last.
“No man left behind?” Aaron asked in a slightly mocking tone, until about halfway through that statement, when it must have occurred to him that he’d be the man left behind in this situation. If this weren’t so serious, he might have laughed at Aaron’s reaction.
“Something like that.”
“You ever left a man behind?” Aaron asked, uncertainty back in his voice.
“Never.” Kreed didn’t qualify the live or dead factor of that question as he dropped to one knee. The answer was true enough.
“What’re you doing?” Aaron started to take another step backward. Kreed stopped him, gripping his trousers.
“Stand still. I’m adding this. It’ll make me feel better and give you protection. It’s small, lightweight, and can be hidden at the top of your socks. No one’s gonna see it,” Kreed said, lifting Aaron’s pants, relieved when the kid didn’t fight him.
“You don’t anticipate I’ll need that, right?” Aaron asked as Kreed finished, then pulled the leg of his slacks back in place.
“No, not really. It’s just to make me feel better.” That lie seemed to pacify Aaron for the moment.
“And we can handle this with just us?” Aaron asked. The kid needed reassurance; he’d figured that might be the reason why Aaron had little to no attitude with him today. Kreed patted Aaron on the shoulder before he turned away.
“For now. I’m trusting the process, and honestly, we’ll know a lot more once you’ve gotten on the inside. Until then, Skinner knows we can’t bring this down by ourselves. We won’t be asked to. But that’s his job in the chain. He’ll be ready when we need him,” Kreed said, checking the equipment left on the table. There was more he needed to explain, but this was enough to get Aaron started. He had to get hired before any of the rest really mattered anyway.
“What if that time’s tomorrow?” Aaron finally asked. The guy was smart; he didn’t leave too many stones unturned.
“It won’t be,” Kreed said, trying for reassurance. He reached for an earpiece then connected it to his ear.
“You don’t know that,” Aaron immediately replied. All startup jobs were nerve-racking to say the least. He got it; Aaron’s anxiety was rising, and he got that, too, but he’d need to calm himself in order to make this work. He had to try to talk the kid down, but supportive reassurance wasn’t really his strong suit.
“Maybe not. But I do know it won’t be tomorrow. If it were, though, Skinner’s a miracle worker. You’ve got nothing to worry about. I’m not letting you get hurt. Connors, are you getting this?” Kreed lifted a hand to his ear to push the small earbud farther in.
Connors came back with, “Affirmative.”
“All right, kid, we’re good. You’re good and I’m watching you close. Connors just told me in my ear that he’s got everything registered. The name of the game for you today’s to blend in and be helpful when you can. When you walk in that door, study every single person you see. Become them. Turn and angle yourself so we can see the place, but be natural about it. And for some reason, if they do have a young female staff, you need to stay away from ’em. You’re already too good-looking. You’ll attract attention, which negates from blending in and being unseen. Stay as quiet and inconspicuous as you can.” Kreed stared at Aaron, hoping he’d conveyed everything he could until he had a lightbulb moment. Kreed snapped his fingers, trying to remember that family’s name. “Take on the Duggar family persona. Not like that oldest one, but the others. Be like them—naïve to the point of almost dumb, not worldly. And remember, it’s against your moral code to be alone with a woman. Right? Isn’t that how they are?”
“I have no idea,” Aaron said, furrowing his brow, a look of complete confusion crossing his face.
“Well, I think it’s something like that. Just do that,” he advised, hoping he’d eased some of the fear.
“What if they want me to ride with them somewhere?” Aaron asked.
“Do not get inside a car. I don’t care what excuse you give. Shake ’em off. Don’t do it under any circumstance. Follow the rules. Drop to your knees and curl into a ball, slapping your head. Don’t get inside a car with them. Now, give me your left wrist.” Kreed took the wristwatch off the table and placed it on Aaron’s arm. “This monitors your vitals and has a GPS tracking device.”
In Kreed’s ear, Brown whispered, “He’s panicked. His heart rate’s through the roof.” Kreed glanced up at Aaron’s face.