Angol
b>He guarded the President. He couldn't save his wife.For eight years, Special Agent Tom Creed was the man who never stopped scanning.
Roof. Windows. Tree line. Hands. Always hands.
On the North Lawn of the White House, on a warm August evening, his wife Anna is in the blue dress with the deep pockets, his daughter Emma is in the yellow dress with a daisy, and his father-in-law is not POTUS - he's just Grandad, kneeling first because Emma hates being lifted unexpectedly.
It's one perfect moment.
Then Tom sees a black Suburban where no Suburban should be.
The explosion takes twelve seconds. The aftermath takes three years.
Anna makes him promise: Take her home. To Maureen. To Bandon. Where it's green and it's quiet and no one knows who we are.
So Tom Creed resigns his oath on the Resolute desk and becomes Superintendent Creed of Anglesea Street, Cork City - the safest job in Irish policing. School runs in Turners Cross, porridge at 6:30am, and every morning, coffee and mist on a balcony in the Elysian overlooking the River Lee, third window from the left.
Until one Tuesday in March, the private line rings.
Daniel Mercer is coming to Cork.
And Emma, who hasn't said it in three years, whispers: "Are the suit people coming again?"
TOM CREED: NEUTRAL GROUND - BOOK ONE. The suit people are coming again. Air Force One is filing for Cork.
