Marcus looked at Rowan and gave a brief nod.

“She can wear a server’s uniform,” Marcus said. “With a tray and a mask, she will blend in.”

Rowan stayed silent for a long moment, the wind howling through the open hangar doors.

“Fine,” Rowan said finally. “But you stay close to Marcus’s feed.”

He turned back to the SUV and opened the rear door.

Inside were several black equipment cases.

Marcus began loading extra magazines into his tactical vest.

I watched Rowan as he checked his sidearm, his movements calm and practiced.

He was no longer just the businessman I had married; he was the soldier he used to be.

“We have two hours before the main event begins,” Marcus said, looking at his watch.

“The guests will already be arriving,” I said. “The driveway will be jammed with limousines.”

“That works in our favor,” Rowan said. “The gate guards will be rushed.”

He climbed into the driver’s seat of the SUV.

“Get in,” Rowan said. “We are taking this vehicle.”

Marcus dragged the bound driver into the back of the hangar, locking him in a storage closet.