Page 1 of Blake

Prologue

THREE YEARS AGO

Blake slammed his hand down on the desk, anger making his fist shake as he tried to control it. He glared at the woman across from him who had given the order that had nearly got his principal killed. “This was a fucking shit show, and you know it. I should never have been moved at such late notice and swapped out for some fucking green kid.” Blake paced then, his hands threading through his short blonde hair in frustration at the situation.

The woman opposite looked at him calmly, barely a hair out of place, her suit wrinkle free as if she was ready for church. Nothing like a woman who had nearly gotten the Queen murdered with her incompetence. “I understand you’re upset.”

Blake spun on his heel to face her. “Upset? Are you fucking with me right now? I’m fucking livid. Whose idea was it to swap me out for that FNG?”

“I am not aware what FNG means,” replied Commander Helen Pope with a dangerous edge to her tone that made Blake stop.

Blake leaned into the desk making the woman stand and face him, not backing down an inch. “It means fucking new guy!”

“Yes, well, to answer your question it was not my idea. The order came directly from the Deputy Commissioner.” She sighed and sat back in her chair. “Listen, Blake, you’re a good officer, the best we have. So no, I don’t know what’s going on, but I intend to find out.” She looked at him sternly then. “But if you raise your voice to me again, I’ll have you demoted back down to Police Constable before you can even blink.”

Her tone made Blake sit down opposite her, his anger at her leaving him and his next words were sincere. “Fine. I apologise.”

He had a lot of respect for Helen Pope. She had worked her way up the ladder in a very male dominated job. Not only had she done well for herself, but she had done a lot of good within the police force and especially with Protection Command.

“Is she okay?” he asked knowing that she may not tell him.

Blake took his job as PPO very seriously. These people relied on him to keep them safe while they went about their jobs and lives. The only way to do that was to build a rapport with them, gain some trust, and he had done that. Now the new Deputy Commissioner had come in and decided that the PPOs would work on a rota system. Each officer would take turns protecting different people.

“Yes. She is resting comfortably in her suite at Balmoral. It wasn’t your fault, Blake. This rests with me.”

“No, it doesn’t and you and I both know it. This new system is dangerous and it’s going to get someone killed.” He took in a breath. “I’m not sure I can watch that happen.” He leaned back in his chair; his hands crossed in front of him as he delivered the words.

“What are you saying, Blake?” Commander Pope asked directly.

“That I’m tendering my resignation with immediate effect.”

He watched as a flicker of emotion flew across the Commander’s face. She was an attractive woman, and at fifty was still in prime fitness. She had even been known to take one of her men down to the mat in practice. She wore her greyish blonde hair pinned back in a tight bun at the back of her neck and never gave in to female fripperies like make-up. She was a hardass, but he respected her and enjoyed working for her, but he couldn’t work under the new commissioner and the new guidelines which all but guaranteed he would be attending a state funeral at some point.

“That seems rather hasty,” she said slowly her hands resting on the desk, her fingers peaked.

“It might be, but I’ve given it careful consideration. I can’t in good conscience do this job if I feel I’m compromising the safety of those around me, most especially the principal. I either do this properly or not at all.”

Pope nodded. “I see. We’ll be very sorry to lose you, Blake. It goes without saying that your commitment and drive on the force will be sorely missed. That said, I do understand and if you ever change your mind, you know where I am.”

“Thank you, Commander, it has been an honour to serve under you,” he said with genuine feeling.

“I’ll have your papers drawn up, but I need your shield and firearm.”

Blake produced both and with only the slightest feeling of reverence placed them down on her desk. He raised his hand as she stood and saluted her which she returned. “Ma’am,” He dropped his hand and turned to leave.

“Blake.”

He turned back to her. “Yes, Ma’am?”

“Do you know what you will do now?”

He shook his head. “Not a clue,” he said with a grin that had turned many a woman to mush.

She nodded but seemed unaffected by his charm. She went to her desk and jotted down a number on a piece of paper and handed it to him. “Give this guy a call. He’s putting together a team, and I have a feeling you would be a good fit. He’s a bit of a stubborn hardass but a good man with good morals. Tell him I sent you.”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Blake replied and looked down at the card in his hand.

In her elegant, feminine handwriting she had written Jack Granger 07892 778 923.