Chapter 28

James Harrington had been with Royal Protection for twelve years, the last three assigned specifically to Lady Louise Spencer. At forty-two, he had the perfect blend of experience and physical capability—old enough to anticipate problems before they developed, young enough to address them decisively when they did.

The security team had already gone into what they called stage one mode the moment Lady Louise mentioned joining her friends for dinner with an unknown individual. Standard protocol: preliminary background check, advance location scouting, and enhanced situational awareness during the meeting. Nothing that would impede her normal activities, just additional layers of caution.

James had instantly cataloged the American as primary awareness upon entering the tavern. It was a designation security professionals reserved for individuals who maintained complete environmental awareness without obvious scanning behaviors. Most civilians fell into different categories: the oblivious, the sporadically aware, the paranoid scanners. Primary awareness individuals were rare and always noteworthy—typically either military-trained, security professionals themselves, or people who had survived situations where such awareness became necessary for survival.

The American had immediately clocked James upon entry. Not with the obvious double-take of someone recognizing security, but with the smooth, comprehensive environmental assessment that included all variables: exits, other patrons, sight lines, potential weapons, and yes, the man at the bar who was not really drinking his beer.

What made it significant was what came after: the acknowledgment and dismissal. Carter had registered James’s presence, categorized him appropriately as security rather than threat, and then essentially filtered him into the background—present but not requiring active attention. This was professional-level threat assessment.

James maintained his position at the bar, angled to observe both the table and the tavern’s entrance. Through his earpiece, information continued to flow from the London team, now conducting deeper background checks.

“Subject is Nicholas Carter, American, age 30. Two published books, one with a Pulitzer Prize. Juvenile criminal record, sealed, but referenced in his second book about solitary confinement. No adult criminal history. No known political affiliations or extremist connections. Currently employed with Wilhelm Weber Timber Construction. Immigration status is legitimate, work permits in order.”

James acknowledged with a subtle tap to his earpiece. Nothing immediately concerning, but the juvenile record paired with the solitary confinement reference warranted continued vigilance. Many high-risk individuals had troubled backgrounds, though the lack of adult criminal history was reassuring.

What was most interesting to James was the interaction itself. Lady Louise was deploying her usual social intelligence—the subtle questions, the strategic self-disclosure, the calibrated charm that typically yielded whatever information she sought. James had watched her work rooms of diplomats and celebrities with the same effectiveness many times.

But her techniques weren’t working as expected. The American answered directly, didn’t elaborate beyond what was asked, didn’t respond to the typical social cues with the expected anxiety or eagerness to impress. His body language remained consistent—attentive but economical.

Through his earpiece, more details arrived: “Subject spent eighteen months in solitary confinement at age 15-16. Wrote a book about it that influenced juvenile justice reform. Subsequently attended Swiss carpentry school. Has worked with Wilhelm Weber for two years. Weber’s client list includes multiple high-net-worth individuals and politically connected figures, but no security red flags. Subject maintains minimal social media presence. Financial profile shows moderate income, no suspicious transactions.”

Again, nothing that triggered immediate concern. But when Lady Louise mentioned visiting the construction site the following morning, James shifted to a more active security posture. Construction sites presented multiple security challenges—limited access control, potentially dangerous equipment, unfamiliar personnel.

He caught Lady Louise’s eye with their established signal, indicating they should conclude the evening so he could begin preparation for the morning’s unscheduled excursion. To his mild surprise, she gave the counter signal, indicating a few more minutes were desired. This was unusual. She typically welcomed his subtle extraction cues at social engagements.

When she finally stood to leave, setting up a 7 AM meeting at the construction site, James made a mental note to arrive by 6:15 for a preliminary security sweep. The early hour was a mild tactical advantage—fewer workers meant fewer variables to monitor—but would require adjustments to the normal protective routine.