Alec's Royal Assignment (Man On A Mission Book 3) by Amelia Autin

carrying their infant son in her arms as she and the king made their stately way up the center aisle.
    Angelina’s eyes were constantly looking left and right, just as he’d done earlier. Guarding the queen as best she could without being right beside her. So tall, so straight, so intensely focused. Like a Norse Valkyrie.
Or a guardian angel,
he thought.
Yeah, that’s more appropriate for church. So determined nothing will happen on her watch.
    Just like me.

Chapter 6
    F or no reason he could think of, Alec suddenly remembered the scene in the coffeehouse. Remembered the two bearded young men who’d entered so innocuously but who bore hatred in their hearts and carried death in their minds and hands. His sixth sense—the one he always trusted, which had never let him down—told him there was danger here. He didn’t know from where or from whom, just that it was here...somewhere.
    His hand was already reaching for his SIG SAUER, but then he stopped, cursing internally. If he drew his gun, he could trigger an international incident, and he already had one black mark against him with the State Department for taking down those terrorists—even though it had been necessary. One of the security guards here was bound to see his drawn gun, think he was a threat to the royal family, shoot first and ask questions later. Even if he wasn’t killed, the State Department would have a hell of a lot of explaining to do. And so would he.
    * * *
    Angelina spotted Alec immediately in the front pew as the royal family took their seats next to the McKinnons, though she shunted him to the back of her mind because she had to focus on doing her job. Her eyes scoured the vast room, but she saw nothing that warranted alarm. So far so good.
    As the archbishop began the sacred rite of baptism, the organ began playing, and after a few bars, the choir burst into song. She tuned everything out as she kept her focus on the royal family.
    She moved slightly so she could have a clearer view of them as they stood and approached the archbishop at the baptismal font, accompanied by the McKinnons and the other set of godparents. Seeing the archbishop’s mouth moving but not hearing the words. Watching as the baby’s head was bared and holy water was sprinkled on top of it. Casting out original sin, if you believed the church.
But a baby has no sin in his heart,
a small part of her brain insisted.
    Then her eyes zeroed in on the man directly in her line of sight on the right, stationed behind the altar. And suddenly she
knew.
Knew the royal family was in imminent danger. Because at this angle, with the light hitting the large television camera just right, she could see the gun half hidden within easy reach of his hand, artfully concealed as part of his equipment. The setup was beautiful—no one would suspect him...until it was too late.
    She couldn’t just draw her weapon and shoot to kill—not only did she not have a clear shot, she couldn’t just open fire. All the security details here—so many men, all of them armed—and someone innocent was sure to be wounded, perhaps killed. Maybe more than one. She couldn’t start a bloodbath. And there was no guarantee the royal family would be immune from harm, which was the only thing she cared about at this moment.
    Don’t look at him,
she warned herself.
Don’t let him suspect you know...anything.
She had to get closer. Close enough to take him down without firing her weapon—if she could.
    Suddenly a cold feeling gripped her. If there was one assassin, there could be more, disguised exactly like him. If one man had smuggled a weapon into the cathedral, what was to prevent a second? Or a third? Or a whole contingent?
    She moved again, as if merely shifting position restlessly, but really to bring another man clearly into focus, this time on the left side behind the altar. Confirming her suspicion. He, too, had a lethal weapon close to hand.
    Her gaze darted left and right, searching for other