Bulletproof (Unknown Identities #1) by Regan Black Page B

security team.
    A handset had beeped and all of them were suddenly on alert and each pair of eyes turned toward the line, searching faces.
    For her. There was no room for doubt as three stern, suspicious gazes zeroed in on her. “What now?”
    But John didn’t offer any comforting words. He didn’t utter so much as a basic suggestion. Well, he wasn’t the only one with skills. She’d talked her way into and out of worse situations than this.
    Maybe.
    The forward progress on the line came to a stop as two of the security officers left their posts to confront her and John. She glanced back over her shoulder, but with the crowd shifting back from them, she lost sight of the man John claimed was coming for her.
    “Come with us,” said a tall, male security officer. His name badge read A. Stafford. Sweat beaded on the lip of the ebony-skinned woman beside him, Y. Clary.
    “It’s a routine thing,” Clary assured them, unhooking the elastic divider from the post.
    A bullshit line if ever Amelia had heard one. Since when did the routine cause a security officer to break out in sweat? Clary looked too young to be suffering hot flashes.
    Amelia and John followed Stafford and Clary toward a small, clear cubicle tucked against the wall just to the side of the security line. At the door, Stafford patted down John while Clary checked Amelia’s purse and person for weapons.
    She waited for the inevitable outcry when they found John’s weapons, but nothing happened. Not one accusing beep sounded when Clary examined them both with a wand.
    She didn’t know how John had done it, but she was grateful. Being armed would have complicated things, even if he’d shown whatever identification or badge he’d flashed in Sudbury.
    “Go on in,” Stafford said, extending an arm toward the door.
    Amelia walked in and looked around. With glass on all sides and no ceiling, it was like being in an aquarium. The ridiculous set up nearly caused her to laugh aloud.
    She could see the headlines now:
    Detained Reporter Loses Mind In Terminal E
    No, it needed stronger wording... and what the hell was she doing running headlines when they were in serious trouble here?
    She struggled to ignore the sensation of the other travelers gawking at them.
    “Will this take long? We don’t want to miss our flight,” she said.
    “Your flight isn’t for hours yet,” Stafford replied.
    She didn’t care for the sneer twisting the security officer’s mouth. “What’s this about?” Amelia smiled as the door clicked shut, doing her best impression of the least-threatening traveler ever to pass through Logan.
    “Whatever it is, we’re happy to help.” John’s deep voice reached out like an anchor, steadying her and grounding her thoughts.
    Stafford frowned at John, then at her. “Let’s see your identification.”
    She reached into her purse for her passport, handing it to Clary, shamed at the way her hand trembled. John pulled a slim wallet out of the inner pocket of his suit coat and tossed it onto the table.
    Stafford examined the IDs, his brows beetling. Then he looked up, scowling at each of them in turn. “We just received an alert that the two of you have threatened a violent takedown of this flight.”
    Gasping, Amelia prepared an automatic protest, but John laid a hand on her shoulder and she stopped short.
    “If you’ll just answer a few questions,” Clary said, voice quaking, “I’m sure we can wrap this up quickly.”
    Amelia sympathized with the other woman’s nerves, except she and John weren’t the threat, they were the threatened. Think. There had to be an easy way out of this. “I’m sure this is a mistake. There must be a dozen couples who fit the general description you were apparently given.”
    Stafford turned the tablet in his hands to face them. “In my experience, this is specific, not general.”
    Amelia nearly choked as the head shot that accompanied her byline stared back at her from half of the screen. The other