“I’d like you to take Troy tonight,” Benicio said. “I’m concerned. If someone’s targeting Cabal children—” “I believe I’m a decade or so above fulfilling that requirement,” Lucas said. “But you’re still my child. You know Troy; he’ll be as unobtrusive as possible. I just … I want you to be safe.” Lucas lifted his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, then glanced over at me. I nodded. “Let me take a guard from the security pool, then,” Lucas said. “You should keep yours—” “I’ll still have Griffin,” Benicio said, nodding at Troy’s partner. “That will be enough tonight.” When Lucas finally agreed, Benicio slid in a few more “requests.” He wanted to pick up the tab for our hotel, to compensate for bringing us here. Lucas refused. Benicio backed off, but followed with another demand. With the combination of this new threat and 9/11, he didn’t want Lucas flying on a commercial airline. He’d make sure the corporate jet was fueled up to take us home.
