The High Profile Visitor

The lush and peaceful hills above Fryman Road, in the San Fernando Valley,
were being violated. Close to two hundred members of the LAPD and Secret
Service were swarming over the popular hiking trails and hillsides like busy
little bees. The quiet of the morning was rudely shattered
with the obtrusive chatter of cell phones and walkie-talkies, as the latest Intel
was constantly updated to all agents. Overhead, the cloudless, blue sky was decorated with news helicopters that were circling like hungry vultures; intent on a juicy piece of news to increase their ratings. Police helicopters were hovering and
scouring the area for any possible irregularity or threat. Back on the ground, bomb sniffing dogs had been employed and were busy investigating every shrub and tree.
It was 7:00 a.m. of the day of the fundraising dinner, and preparations were well underway for the arrival of the President of the United States. The cul-de-sac was a hub of activity, and already littered with police, heavy security, and numerous
catering staff and trucks. News teams would not be allowed up the hill. No one
was allowed in without a detailed and intensive pre-screening process. The high profile guests and dignitaries would all be subject to a body search. There were to be no exceptions. In spite of all the careful and detailed planning and precautions, forty-two-year-old White House Executive Security Director, Harry Saunders, was
nervous. And, he was not a nervous man. The hills and numerous hiking trails surrounding the fundraiser event made for a logistical nightmare. There were too
many miles of trail, too many places for someone to hide. Even staffed with hundreds of agents and police, there were too many variables. But, he had his orders. Seal and secure the area. The second order was harder than the first. Deep in his gut he had a bad feeling. He rubbed the back of his neck. It was going to be a long day.

About this entry