Escort Security
It
started at John Wayne airport, where we were met at the airplane
steps by a Lincoln town car with the black suited holding the rear
door open. That, by now, was normal. And a black Suburban follow car.
Which definitely was not. Nor was the fact that by the way he stood,
moved and took in everything, the driver was definitely a
professional. And carrying heavy on his right hip. Not the usual “I
have seen a few movies so know about everything” shoulder rig that
was too slow and too obvious and sure to get you into serious trouble
without the ability to get out of it. “Maybe they are Christian
Scientists and don't like sex workers getting near their boss.” I
thought. Right until I entered the car right after Mistress (as I
called her and though of her while we were “on the job”) and saw
the second guy in the passenger seat. Another professional; scanning
front while the driver scanned rear as the tools of Mistress´s trade
were placed in the boot. The guy in the front barely glanced at us in
his visor mirror. Which, given that there were a pair of black patent
thigh boots and the thighs of a goddess showing under her Dolce and
Gabbana raincoat showed true dedication and commitment on his part.
When
we arrived at the house near Laguna Beach (I use the term house because
palace seems so un-American somehow) they were obviously on full highclass escort and her muscle are about to arrive mode. The door
opening process was reversed and the guards looked a little surprised
as I got out to check things before the boss. I am not that tall –
five feet ten – and I don't look big while I am in a suit. Contrary
to what you see in the movies, Special Forces operators are not all
built like Dwayne Johnson. Especially not British ones. It is hard to
pass selection running up and down mountains with over a hundred
pounds on your back if you are already lugging a load of heavy
muscle. So I was definitely not what they were expecting.
There
was a lot of security around, and they were, as they say, loaded for
bear. If they were surprised at my appearance – not being a
steroid-fed arse taking his call girl to stay for a few hours and
carrying a pocketful of blow so he could hopefully make an extra bit
of money – they just about shit themselves when I put my left arm
across the open car door and said
“Please
stay in your seat Mistress. I need to assess this first.”
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