0.5 Meeting Monday by Robert Michael

1450 hours, CEST
    T he rain was light. It would not affect the party, she was assured. Halley did not mind. The rain would keep it cool until the festivities began. With more than four thousand attendees, she was positive that her blazer would be drenched before the evening was through.
    She began her detail with the usual checks. Coffee, check. Handgun, check. Identification, check. She continued her list, drilling her mind to remain focused. Being the rookie on the detail was no excuse for mistakes. These mental drills kept her alert and her nerves controlled.
    She waited patiently, glancing at the other members of her detail. Comstock, Wesson, Johnson, and Clavelle. She was the only female on Ambassador Welsey’s detail. Yet, this was not why she was nervous.
    Halley knew the Ambassador personally. Actually, it had been her parents who knew him. She had only been a child living in New York when Welsey and his wife had spent summers at her parent’s house. It was why she was assigned here. The other agents knew this. She suspected that there was some disdain for her. It did not help that she was a woman.
    Even this assignment was a fluke. Normally, US Secret Service were only assigned to visiting dignitaries. Other agencies handled much of the protective duties overseas. Yet, President Vine had signed an executive order commanding a USSS presence during Ambassador Welsey’s visit to Germany’s newly elected president, Hadley Buschheuer. Welsey, and several senators as well as the Secretary of State had been invited to a glamorous summer party that was a tradition of the national presidential leader for years.
    The President intended to show his support for Buschheuer, a West-Berlin native whose parents had campaigned for unification during the Cold War. Despite the German president’s largely ceremonial role in the everyday governance of the nation, this show of support was intended as a good public relations move. The presence of the US Secret Service also was largely ceremonial here. Halley felt that they were redundant.
    Comstock held his hand to his ear. He was the leader of the detail. Comstock was pure military. Close-cropped hair. Perfect posture. Standard issue Secret Service. His demanding personality was grating to most agents under him, but his rigid attention to detail got him noticed by his superiors. He made no mistakes.
    “Count down ten minutes to departure. Clavelle, Parks, stand watch at the entrance. Wesson, Johnson, stay with me. We will escort BREAD WINNER to the vehicle.”
    Who made up these code names, anyway? Halley wondered.
    She stood, straightening her pencil skirt. Normally at an event like this, she would feel uncomfortable in such a conservative attire. Dressed this way, though, it would be easier for her to concentrate on her job.
    Agent Clavelle nodded to her and opened the door.
    “After you,” he said cordially. She knew it was a farce. He hated her. His male chauvinism was palpable.
    They made their way down to the lobby in silence. There was not much to discuss. The threat assessment level was low. The only difficulty that they anticipated were some protesters. A new political party had come into popularity in Berlin and their supporters were very vocal about government corruption. The perception was that big businesses were supporting candidates in exchange for political favors.
    Halley was about as apolitical as she could be. That did not make her anti-patriotic, just practical. Her father would say that she was being cynical. Her retort would be that she was being realistic.
    The lobby was essentially empty save for a clerk and a manager. They maintained discreet eye contact. Through the entry doors Halley could see two agents standing with their backs to her. Senator Haskell’s Secret Service detail. She had met Driscoll and Travers this morning in the kitchens as she was securing breakfast.
    Clavelle cleared his throat. She glanced his way.
    “We should post here. We do not