Unexpected by Blair Grey

Excerpt: White smoke hung in wisps over our heads as we sat around the Iron Cobras’ round table, contemplating the needs of the club. Carl took a long drag on his cigar – we all had been given one for the special meeting. Our president had splurged on a box of Arturo Fuente’s Opus X cigars – hands down, the best smokes on the planet.
Letting the smoke ease out of his lips, curving like a snake around his salt and pepper beard, he savored the flavor. “So, as you can see by the facts I’ve laid out, we are in need of more security than our members can give us at this time. I’m sure we can allow more of our prospects to join within a year or so, to help us get back on a level that will allow us to let the additional security go.”
As the Sergeant at Arms for our MC, I knew I would be at the center of the hiring process. “Do you have any security companies in mind, boss?” With our unique business ventures – most of them frowned upon by the state of Maryland – we couldn’t have just any security company overseeing our men.
“I have a few I’ve been checking out, Clyde.” Opening the manilla folder that had sat closed in front of him for the better part of an hour, he pulled out one sheet of paper. “Here we have the portfolio of the Clandestine Service Agency.” His broad chest shook as he laughed heartily. “Sorry, I just find their name humorous. You guys get it, right?”
Although I had no clue what he was talking about, our vice president, Leo Clapton did. “Clandestine means, secret. So the Secret Service Agency is what their title eludes to. Funny.”
The things well-educated people thought to be funny blew my mind. “Ha, ha. What sort of people make up this agency?” That’s what’s important here.
Carl had this knack for getting background information on the most elusive of people. “Teddy Fender is the owner of this operation. He’s retired FBI and his men, and some women, are also retired government agents.”
Our enforcer, Lyly Franklin, wasn’t impressed. He blew out a wave of smoke, filling the inner circle of the large table. “So, we’re talking about a bunch of old people then, right?”