Die for You

Chapter 42

Becky pushed both herself and me to the limits over the next few days. She was engaged in meeting after meeting, sometimes back to back and occasionally long into the night; sidebars to the endless stream of parties that Richie seemed to organize or insist that we attend on behalf of the company.

She had taken time out of her busy schedule to make sure I trained, though; every afternoon there was a hole in her diary which we filled with combat training, range shooting or pistol work. She pushed me harder and harder until finally it all started to pay off, my times went down, my accuracy went up and with every round I shot, I felt better and better.

It had been an interesting week at the Expo, getting to see how the other half lived. As a soldier, you heard about these events; huge get-togethers where manufacturers and dealers laid on lavish stands, and flashy events; all designed to woo the people with buying power in the worlds official and private armies. They cropped up regularly, often, like this one, with a massive public face.

Events like the Farnborough Air Show were fancy for the public with the displays and the flypasts, but the real deals were done behind closed doors, far away from the 'ooh's' and 'ahh's' of the great unwashed, out for a nice day in the sun.

Away from the smaller stands, in the main hall, there was the main event, where the big players were schmoozed; the military, the police, personal protection units, security firms and anyone and everyone else that had the cash to buy big, they were all drawn here by the big stands, the pretty girls and the freebies. Each and every one of them was here looking for a deal, and nearly all of them seemed to be looking for someone to make them feel special enough to hand over their biggest part of their budget.

It was pretty much how all us mere grunts imagined these events to be really. Whitey used to tell everyone that our weapons were made by the lowest bidder, and sold by the highest briber. Becky had laughed when I'd told her what he had said over our dinner on Sunday night.

"He wasn't a million miles off if I'm totally honest, babe," she'd replied. "I leave all that shit to Richie, though. I do the deals and the hard negotiations, he does the messing around and making people feel good. Well, actually his team do all the real work. Naturally, he does fuck all himself." 

This had become a running argument between them throughout the course of the week; the sibling rivalry threatening to erupt into violence as Richie flounced from event to event and Becky stressed over deal after deal. One thing I hadn't realized was just how hard these events were, Armstrong Industries seemed to be a pretty big player in the market, yet it seemed to be down to Becky alone to organize the endless logistics of supply and demand. 

They may profess their affection for each other as siblings, but when it comes to work, there is no love lost between them and I doubt that will ever change. And as Richie has been nowhere to be seen for most of the week, if it was going to change, it wouldn't be now.

I was actually enjoying the rivalry between them, it was the only moments of excitement in what had become an extremely dull week. Not even my regular runs to the range, now first thing in the morning and again after the stands closed, could make up for the monotony of standing around with nothing to do; or even worse, dealing with the people James sent my way to "see a Close Protection operative in action". I was only halfway through the week and I'd already had enough of 'being famous'.

At least it was only half a day tomorrow, the big competition an excuse for many of the big wigs to decamp from the halls and take up residence in their touring palaces; tents and motor homes decked out to impress. With so many events taking place over the afternoon, it had turned into a great big away day; no wonder James was so anxious to prove how good he was. By the sounds of things, everyone and anyone would be there.