"Sir!" Davin called out, snapping to a salute as he entered the room. The ambassador's face lit up at the sight of him. Davin froze for a heartbeat when he saw his father inside the room—he hadn't expected to find him there.
"Lieutenant Commander, thank you for coming on such short notice," the ambassador said, stepping forward to shake his hand.
"The pleasure is mine, Ambassador. But I must ask—" Davin glanced at his father, "General—"
"Here. Your father recommended you for this mission. I wasn't aware he had retired," the ambassador said, turning toward the older man.
"Yes, just recently," Davin's father replied calmly. "How can I assist you?"
Before the ambassador could answer, a knock sounded at the door.
"I'll get it. I think they're here," the ambassador said, moving toward the entrance. Opening the door, he ushered in two young men accompanied by another.
"General, Lieutenant Commander, I want you to meet Their Royal Highnesses, Prince Alaric and Prince Rowan," the ambassador introduced.
"Your Highnesses, these are the ones I trust with my life: General Andrew Bryant and his son, Lieutenant Commander Davin Bryant," he added.
"It's an honor to meet you, General, Lieutenant Commander," Alaric said, bowing slightly before shaking their hands. His brother followed suit.
After the introductions, the ambassador gestured for them to sit. "Please, have a seat. Let's discuss the purpose of your visit."
"You may not have heard of our country; it is small and little known," Alaric began, his tone careful. "We are here to seek your assistance."
He placed a worn family photograph on the table—a picture from twenty years ago, the only trace left of their sister and mother, taken when Cynthia left with baby Eden.
"We hope you can help us find them," Alaric continued, his eyes earnest.
Davin lifted the faded photograph from the table. He had handled cases like this before during his years in the secret service — missing relatives, hidden identities — long before he'd been assigned to VIP protection. He recognized the quiet gravity of a family's last photograph.
"This picture was taken years ago," he observed, looking from the image to the two princes.
"Yes," Alaric replied. "It's all we have left. We cannot go public. Our country doesn't even know we are searching. The King is ill; all he asks for is to see his daughter." Rowan's voice trembled with the restraint of duty.
Alaric placed another older portrait on the table. "We've heard of your General's work," he said, eyes shifting to Andrew. "He is renowned."
General Andrew Bryant smiled faintly. "I would gladly help," he said, then shook his head. "But I am retired. If there is one man I trust for this, it is him." He nodded toward Davin. The ambassador and the princes watched the exchange carefully.
Davin felt the weight of the unspoken plea. "I'll do what I can, Your Highness," he said. His tone was steady; his acceptance was immediate. The ambassador's relief was visible.
Alaric leaned forward. "Thank you, Lieutenant Commander. This photograph—twenty years old—shows Cynthia Anderson. She was a well-known actress. We pray it helps."
Davin took the photo in both hands. "It will help," he promised.
Alaric's expression darkened. "You must keep her safe. We are not the only ones searching. Radical elements from back home are looking, too. If they find her first…" His voice trailed off. The implication was clear.
"As her brothers, we ask you personally, Lieutenant Commander," Rowan added quietly.
Davin met their eyes, seeing the honest, fearful hope in them. He felt the responsibility settle like armor. "You have my word," he said.
"He is someone you can trust, Your Highness," Andrew said firmly, his gaze steady on the two princes. "He has sworn a duty to protect anyone in need, no matter the risk."
Alaric nodded solemnly. "Thank you. We place our trust in you, Commander."
Davin straightened, pride and resolve hardening his expression. "I will do my utmost not to disappoint you, Your Highness."
He noticed a man in a sharp suit approach Alaric, leaning in to whisper something. Alaric's expression darkened briefly, and Davin's instincts tensed. Something was urgent, something that required discretion.
"I believe we should be going. The President is already waiting," Alaric announced, rising from his seat. Andrew and Davin followed suit, standing respectfully.
"Thank you again for your assistance," Alaric said, clasping Andrew's hand briefly before turning to Davin.
"Lieutenant Commander," the ambassador said, his tone formal yet resolute, "I trust you to escort them. Only you have the judgment and skill to keep them safe."
"It would be my honor," Davin replied, the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders.
As they left the room, the princes began sharing more details about their missing sister and mother. Davin listened intently, mentally cataloging everything that could aid the search. Every snippet of information mattered; every overlooked clue could mean the difference between success and disaster.
Walking briskly toward the presidential office, Davin's mind raced. The threat was real, and time was short. Yet he welcomed the challenge. Protecting the princess and her mother wasn't just a mission—it was a duty he would carry to the end.