A top-secret agent with enhanced strength must use her extraordinary abilities during several high-profile assignments—from the White House to NASCAR tracks—and struggles with trusting God to protect her when unwanted publicity threatens to expose her secrets. As the danger builds, she becomes a terrorist target and realizes the only way she can save her life as she knows it is through death.
Lady Anne, an agent with enhanced strength, lives a life cloaked with secrets she must guard at all costs lest they expose the agency she works for or endanger her family. Her troubles begin when she must escort King Ahmad—a Muslim who recently converted to Christianity—during his state visit to the U.S. When she uses her extraordinary abilities to rescue the King from a terrorist bomb at the White House, and later at a NASCAR track, she is catapulted into the public eye.
The publicity not only brings unwanted fame, but draws the attention of NASCAR champion, Stuart Jackson, who has fame and fortune in plenty, but little contentment. After an encounter with Lady Anne, he belatedly recognizes that one of the reasons he is attracted to her is her sense of peace even in the midst of a difficult situation.
When a plan to offer Lady Anne’s husband a dream NASCAR weekend goes awry, it offers Stuart the opportunity to ask her about the source of her peace. But because of circumstances of her own making, he also discovers her secrets.
Despite intelligence reports indicating that Lady Anne has become a terrorist target, U.S. officials, unwilling to risk the loss of King Ahmad’s support, insist that Lady Anne fulfill the King’s request for her to escort him to another NASCAR race. She feels trapped. After much prayer, she decides upon a plan of action, but to accomplish it, she must trust God to protect her as she steps into death’s doorstep.
Excerpt
Lady Anne stared out the window of the long, black limousine and questioned the wisdom of accepting such a high-profile assignment. Was the opportunity to guard the first Muslim king to convert to Christianity worth the risk of exposing the secret of her enhanced abilities?
A buzz from her cell phone interrupted her thoughts. It would be her supervisor, and if he felt it was urgent enough to call during a mission, it wouldn't be good news.
He came right to the point. "The terrorist group Husam-Jabbar just announced they'll attack the White House today unless the government calls off King Ahmad’s state visit."
Icicles of fear cascaded down Lady Anne's spine. The odds of surviving this assignment without demonstrating her enhanced abilities just took a nosedive. "They honestly think they can pull off an attack on the King at the White House?"
"We have no choice but to take them seriously. They’ve followed through with almost all of their threats."
"I don’t suppose they will cancel the visit?"
"Of course not."
"I understand." Lady Anne’s hand dropped to her lap before she remembered to close the phone. She slid it back into her tiny purse, next to the wallet-shaped wireless receiver that transmitted to the miniscule earbud she wore.
Historic buildings along the wide Washington D.C. thoroughfare passed by, but she barely noticed them. Instead, she focused on the early morning sunlight streaking through the low, gray clouds.
After a deep sigh, she folded her hands in her lap and bowed her head. Lord, protect me. Keep my secrets safe. But in her heart, she knew the words were mere fluff she didn't truly believe. She couldn't suppress the sensation that this assignment would lead to catastrophe…and God would allow it. Deep in the pit of her stomach, the irrational fear she'd experienced since she accepted this task writhed and twisted. It crept up her throat and threatened to strangle her. Why is this different, Lord?
She felt the whisper of a response. Trust me.
Instead of peace, the words brought a burst of confusion. Why couldn't she trust God with this? She had performed similar services and done well, although never in a public arena…and never under the watchful eyes of the media.
* * *
In the Mashkoori Embassy, Lady Anne sucked in a deep breath to soothe her jangled nerves as an official ushered her into the East Room. Her first view of King Ahmad brought a jolt of surprise. For some reason, she had expected the man who sent the Muslim world into convulsions to be a giant in stature as well as in faith. The array of rainbow-colored ribbons and medals that decorated his black, tunic-length military jacket, however, added an air of authority to his otherwise unassuming stature.
The olive skin tone of his Arabic ancestry also contrasted with the European look of his sea-green eyes and light brown hair, now peppered with gray. He was the perfect example of the blend of peoples in Mashkoor. With its location between Bulgaria and Turkey, it was a true gateway between cultures.
The room behind him seemed like an extension of the King—small, but ornate. Each piece of décor and furniture spoke of the tiny nation's wealth, from the marble fireplace engraved with the Mashkoori crest to the luxuriant velvet drapes. With oil under nearly every square inch of its land, King Ahmad's country was one of the richest in the world.
"Ah, Lady Anne, it is a pleasure to meet you." But when she placed her hand in his, he held onto it while he spoke to the official beside her. "Captain, would you please have breakfast sent in?"
"Yes, Your Majesty." The officer clicked the heels of his polished black boots, backed out of the room, and closed the door.
Lady Anne stiffened, but carefully hid her reaction behind a bland expression and bowed her head. "The pleasure is mine, Your Majesty."
The King brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. "Your beauty graces me."
His words, and the smile that followed, oozed sincerity, but the intentional insult of addressing the official before he completed his acknowledgement of her arrival spoke volumes. Perhaps he had not yet overcome Islam’s low opinion of women. Or maybe he simply didn’t trust her. Either way, it could become a problem when events heated up. One more complication she didn't need.
He held her hand longer than necessary and studied her from head to toe. A hint of scorn flashed in his eyes as he took in her pale blue eyes, the curly blonde hair pulled into an elegant updo, and the cropped jacket covering a simple but elegant navy blue dress. His eyes hesitated at her arms and waist, then settled on the purse dangling at her side.
Accustomed to working with those unfamiliar with her unique talents, Lady Anne took the examination in stride. Like so many others, the King looked for outward signs that she could fulfill her duty. Yet he saw no bulging muscles, no bulk beneath her jacket to indicate a hidden weapon, and her tiny purse couldn’t possibly hold a gun. He wouldn't be the first to think she couldn't do the job and be wrong.
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