The Primary, tall and flinty with a graying goatee, has decided he’s in the mood for shopping, a development that s got David Perez all worked up. I’m sitting with Perez in a Chevy Silverado in downtown Santa Monica. A fit ex-Marine, Perez is in charge of the Primary’s six-man protection detail. For 20 minutes, we’ve been waiting around in a grocery store parking lot, but now the Primary has parked his Porsche 911 Carrera at a shopping strip nearly a mile away. Though Perez already has three “countersurveillance” experts on the scene, he’s antsy to join them. His client has a stalker, whom one of the team members had spotted earlier. The Silverado crawls through glacial traffic. “You’re driving like an old lady!” Perez barks. “Catch the green!”

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