I backed silently around the corner and pressed my back against the wall, trying to come up with a plan. Then I hurried to the Press Secretary’s office and leaned in through the open door. Jessica, the Press Secretary, was focused on one of the three computer screens that sat on her desk, her fingers rattling across the keyboard and a pencil clamped between her teeth to help her think. “Hi!” I said. “Did you find the VP yet?”
She looked up, frowned and spat out the pencil, but her fingers kept on typing. “No....”
I did my best surprised face. “Oh! Didn’t you need to talk to him about the Washington Post story.”
As Press Secretary, the one thing that scares Jessica more than anything else in the world is being second to know something. “What Washington Post story?”
I was making this up as I went along. I bit my lip and tried to look clueless. “Maybe I got it wrong. Someone said to me the Post was doing a piece on the VP tomorrow and you definitely needed to talk to him before they went to press... didn’t they tell you?”
“Shit!” She grabbed her desk phone. “Mr. Vice President? I need a few minutes. Right now. Yes, that urgent. Can you come to me, sir? I want to set up a call with both of us and the Post....” Meanwhile she was frantically searching through emails and Post-It notes, trying to find the message she thought she’d missed. I slipped away and retreated towards the residence. Ten seconds later, I heard Kerrigan’s footsteps as he stormed along the hallway. I held my breath and sneaked a look as he entered Jessica’s office….
He was still in his shirt sleeves. He’d left his jacket in his office. Now I had to hope the phone was still in it.
I waited until he closed the door and then set off down the hallway, walking as fast as I could without drawing attention. With every step, my fear ratcheted a little higher, a tight knot growing in my stomach. How much time did I have before Kerrigan and Jessica realized there was no story brewing at the Post? Two minutes? Three? I tried to walk faster. When did this hallway get so damn long?
I reached the door to the VP’s office and then had to hang around outside, trying to look casual, while a couple of staffers sauntered down the hallway, chatting and flirting. I was sweating, now. What am I doing? I’m not a spy! Come on! COME ON!
The second they’d passed me, I darted into the VP’s office and closed the door just enough to hide me. I rooted through his jacket and... yes! The phone was still there. I glanced up at the door, ears straining for any hint of Kerrigan coming back. I started going through the phone’s unfamiliar menus. Messages. Sent Items. There!
A text message sent just a few minutes ago. LS CONFIRMED
I stood there staring at it. What the hell was that? That could be anything! I went to the next message and the one before that, but they were just times and dates—presumably of meetings. I was hoping I’d find some reference to the day of the attack in the park but Kerrigan was smart: either he’d deleted messages after sending or he’d done nearly everything as voice calls.
I heard footsteps coming down the hallway. Hard, angry, male footsteps. Shit! I backed out of the messages and dropped the phone back into the jacket pocket, but I was in too much of a panic. The phone missed the pocket, slithered down the jacket’s smooth inner lining and bounced across the carpet. Shit! Shit! I scrambled for it, grabbed it and shoved it into the pocket, then ran for the door—
I opened it to find Kerrigan standing right outside, our faces a foot apart.
His expression went from shock to puzzlement to anger. He glanced over his shoulder at Jessica’s office, figuring it all out. Then he looked past me to his desk. His computer. His jacket.
He looked back to me and those soulless gray eyes flared with rage. “What the hell are you doing in here?” he spat. There was no fear at all, no guilt or shame. He was just outraged that I’d mess with his plans. How dare I?!
That was when I started to get really scared. For weeks now, he’d been the enemy but I’d always faced him in the safety of a hallway or at a party, surrounded by people. Now his mask of civility had slipped away to reveal the monster inside and we weren’t just fighting with words. This was the man who’d plotted to have me killed... and I was alone with him. What the hell was I thinking? Kian had made me promise not to put myself at risk and I’d gone ahead and done exactly that.
I made the mistake of backing up a step... and he took a step forward. Too late, I realized I was trapping myself in his office. No one knows I’m in here!
He took another step forward, then another and I backed up fast, almost tripping. He was bigger than me, stronger than me and he was mad... and I was alone with him, crippled by high heels. I wanted to scream but I couldn’t find my voice. Then my ass hit his desk and there was no place left to run.
Kerrigan moved right up against me, dominating my personal space, towering over me. His knees brushed mine and the stink of his cologne filled my nostrils. I shied back from him, bending backwards over the desk, hands scrabbling at the edge, but he kept coming.
And then, over his shoulder, though the half-open door, I saw Harlan, the head of my dad’s Secret Service detail, ambling towards the Oval Office. “Harlan!” I squeaked.
To my relief, he heard me and looked towards the office, then frowned and walked closer. Kerrigan heard the footsteps and backed off a pace, but his eyes never left mine.
I straightened up as Harlan pushed the door open the rest of the way. “Miss Matthews?” he asked, puzzled. His eyes went from me to Kerrigan and back. He wasn’t stupid: he could tell something was up. “Everything okay?”
Kerrigan had his back to the door so he hadn’t had to stop glaring at me. His eyes were the single scariest thing I’d ever seen in my life, scarier even that the second shooter at the park. I couldn’t look away. “Fine,” I told Harlan in a shaky voice. “I just realized I’d forgotten the time. It must be about time to go... right?”
“Pretty much, ma’am.”
I stepped out from between Kerrigan and the desk, and walked quickly over to Harlan and safety. “Let’s go, then,” I said.
Harlan looked confused and a little concerned, but he nodded and led me away down the hallway. “Mr. Vice-President,” he said respectfully as we left.
Kerrigan didn’t reply. But when we’d gone a few paces, I knew he’d turned around because I could feel his gaze burning into my back. I stayed close to Harlan, my legs shaking so much they could barely support me.
Minutes later, we climbed into the limos that would take us to the museum... but Kian was still nowhere to be found. I overheard Miller saying that this was it, that he’d messed up his final chance. But at the last second, Kian jogged up, out of breath and with his tie askew. Miller looked as if he wanted to disembowel him, but there was no time for yelling: Kian swung himself into our limo and we were off.
The journey gave me a chance to process what had just happened. The text I’d seen wasn’t any sort of real evidence, but from the way Kerrigan had reacted, it was clear I was right: something was going on. And from Kian’s grim expression, he’d found something, too. We couldn’t talk in the limo: not with my dad sitting right next to me. I had to get him alone.
When we arrived, Kian grabbed my hand as we stepped out onto the red carpet. It was a fairly low-key event, but the press were still there and a small crowd had gathered. With Kian’s help, I’d improved a lot but I still had to focus on breathing slow and steady as I walked past the sea of faces. It was only once we were inside and the doors were closed that my shoulders slumped in relief.
My dad and his Secret Service detail went into a side room to wait. Behind a huge set of double doors lay the main exhibition hall, now filled with important donors sipping cocktails as they waited for the night’s star attraction. I could hear the head of the museum beginning the speech that would introduce my dad. I grabbed Kian and pushed him down a hallway and into a quiet corner.
“What happened?” I asked. “Where have you been?” Then I just threw my arms around hi
m and hugged him tight, needing to feel him against me. My heart was still racing from what had happened in Kerrigan’s office. Kian’s arms wrapped around my back, pressing me to him, and I slowly calmed. It was only then that I noticed the sharp smell of chemicals on him. I drew back... and saw the thumb-sized hole a bullet had left near the hem of his suit jacket. “Are you okay?!”
“I’m fine. I found them. The second shooter from the park is leading them—his name’s Powell. They were planning something. I don’t know what it is but it’s happening soon. They were just waiting for confirmation.”
I realized I had the other piece of the puzzle. “Kerrigan already sent it. I saw the text message. So it’s happening tonight!” I told him how I’d sneaked into Kerrigan’s office.
His face fell. “Are you nuts?” He grabbed my shoulders and pushed me up against the wall, the plaster cool through my dress. “I told you not to take any more risks!”
His anger would have been scary, given his size... except I could see it came from worrying about me. He managed to look mad at me for another second and then melted. “Jesus,” he said, shaking his head. His voice was thick with emotion. “Just—”
He suddenly leaned in and kissed me hard, taking me by surprise. My body caught on before my mind did, that familiar ripple of heat shooting straight down my body as my eyes closed and my lips opened. It was desperate, angry... possessive, letting me know just how much I meant to him. And it took my breath away.
He broke the kiss and stood there panting down at me, as speechless as I was. “Just....” he said at last, “Just don’t do that again.”
I’d never heard such fear in his voice: fear that something would happen to me. Fear that he’d lose me. My heart swelled and I nodded dumbly. “The message said Confirm LS.” I told him. “What’s LS? It must be the target, right?”
We stared at each other as we thought. “Something big they could attack, or maybe blow up,” said Kian. “Liberty... Statue? But why would they write it LS, not SL?”
“Liberty Bell?” I tried. “Lincoln Memorial?” I couldn’t think of anything that started with LS. Then it hit me and I grabbed Kian’s arm. “Lafayette Square!” There wouldn’t normally be many people there, this time of night, but maybe there was some gathering we didn’t know about, or maybe they were just going to blow up the statues to make a point.
Kian nodded. “Come on, we’ve got to tell your dad.” He grabbed my hand and led me down the hallway. “Where is he?”
At that moment, we heard applause coming from beyond the double doors, followed by Hail to the Chief. “Shit,” I said. “He’s just starting his speech.”
Kian stopped so suddenly that I staggered as his hand pulled me up short. I turned to look at him and saw his face turning white, his eyes widening in horror.
“LS,” he said. “Lone Star. They’re going to assassinate the President.”
Emily
Kian was a big guy but he could move fast when he had to. He hauled open the big double doors and sprinted through the main exhibition hall. As Hail to the Chief played on, he raced down the center aisle between the rows of seats. The crowd turned to look, their applause dying away.
My dad was walking towards the podium, waving, and he’d almost reached it when Kian vaulted up onto the stage. “Get him off the stage!” he yelled. “Get him out of here!”
The Secret Service agents were all frowning at Kian, but they weren’t going to take any chances where the President’s safety was concerned. Two of them grabbed my dad under the arms and almost carried him off stage and into the side room. A few people in the crowd screamed as the other agents drew their guns.
I raced up the aisle after Kian and made it into the side room just before the agents slammed the door.
“You have to evacuate, right now,” panted Kian. “There’s going to be an attempt on the President’s life.”
I looked around at the agents. I didn’t know any of them well: Harlan was outside with the motorcade, so a younger guy called Eric Brannon was the ranking agent inside. I expected him to argue but he didn’t—not for a second. He just gave Kian a look as if to say, you better be right, then nodded to the other agents. They started to hustle my dad towards the door.
“Wait,” said the President. Then, louder, “Wait!” He was still carrying plenty of muscle from his army days and he shook off the agents holding him. “What the hell’s going on?”
“There’s no time!” yelled Kian. “We can talk about it later!”
My dad shook off another agent who was trying to tow him towards the door. “Mr. O’Harra, I have a room full of people waiting for me. This threat—where’s it coming from? Why doesn’t Miller or anyone else know about it? What is it, an anonymous tip?”
I could see Kian trying to control his anger. I knew it wouldn’t end well if both of them started screaming at each other. I grabbed his hand and rubbed my fingers over his knuckles.
Kian closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said. He looked at Agent Brannon. “You guys set up outside this room. Don’t let anyone come in.”
Brannon stared at him in dismay, aghast that Kian would presume to give him orders. But then a look passed between them: Kian was trying to make him understand that, the sooner he could satisfy the President, the sooner they could get him to safety. Work with me, here….
“Fine,” said Brannon. He took half his men back into the main exhibition hall to guard that door. The other half went out into the hallway to guard the other door. That left Kian, my dad and me in the room.
“Now for the love of God,” said my dad, “Tell me why you just pulled me off a stage.”
“Sir,” said Kian, “the Vice-President is behind the Brothers of Freedom. They’re ex-military guys, probably hand-picked from Rexortech. The attack in the park was to scare people into backing the Guardian Act. Now he’s going to seal the deal by assassinating you. The whole country will be baying for more protection: the Act will pass and he’ll turn the country into a police state. There’ll be no one to stop him because he’ll be president!”
My dad just stared at him. “You’re talking about a goddamn coup!”
“Yes sir,” said Kian. “I am.”
“I’ve heard Kerrigan talking to the Brothers of Freedom,” I said. “I’ve seen messages he’s sent them. It’s all true, I swear.”
My dad looked between the two of us. Maybe he didn’t believe Kian but he sure as hell believed me. “God help us,” he muttered. He threw open the doors. “Get me the hell out of here,” he barked at Brannon.
“Yes sir,” said Brannon, and started giving orders. A tight group of Secret Service agents surrounded my dad, Kian and me and started walking us towards the exit. I let out a long breath. Everything was going to be okay. We’d get back to the White House, Kerrigan would be arrested—
“Sir,” said one of the agents to Brannon, “I can’t raise the motorcade.”
Brannon tried his radio and shook his head. “I can’t get through to the White House.”
Then, from just beyond the next door, three loud bangs. Gunfire!
Kian
It only took Brannon a split second to react. “This way!” he snapped, turning us around. The rest of the Secret Service agents followed his lead, taking us back towards the main exhibition hall. “Lone Star is moving,” Brannon said into his radio. “Evac, main entrance, we need the motorcade. Does anybody copy?”
I’d already drawn my gun. With my other hand, I squeezed Emily’s hand... but she didn’t respond. When I turned to look at her, she’d gone pale, arms and legs stiff as she walked, eyes darting around in panic. I squeezed her hand again and, this time, I got a weak squeeze back in return. God, this must be like every one of her nightmares come to life. It tore me apart to see her like this again and to know it was the same damn people doing it. That primal urge to protect her was stronger than ever. I’m going to kill every last one of them.
We raced down the hallway,
the President and Emily in the middle of the group, myself and the other Secret Service agents surrounding them. We’d just reached the door to the exhibition hall when we heard breaking glass and screams from the other side, then more gunfire. We were cut off from both the main and side entrances. “Shit!” said Brannon, starting to lose his cool. “Down here!”
I made sure I kept hold of Emily’s hand as we moved through the building. Whatever happened, I wasn’t going to let anyone separate us. I understood Brannon’s plan: to get us away from the two groups of gunmen and towards an emergency exit. But even if we could make it, we’d be horribly exposed once we got outside. We needed the motorcade to be right outside the door so we could run Emily and the President straight inside an armored limo... but for some reason, we couldn’t contact them. I tried my own radio: nothing. Shit!
More gunfire behind us—closer, this time. They were gaining on us. When we came to the door at the end of the hallway, Brannon left three men behind to guard our backs and closed the door behind them.
We emerged into another exhibition hall, this one filled with a giant dinosaur skeleton. The hall was two stories high, with wide marble staircases up to the second floor. We were halfway across when we heard more gunfire coming from ahead of us. Now we really were surrounded. I heard one of the other agents curse. All of us were panting, adrenaline thundering through our veins. This was the worst case scenario: under siege, with the President right in the firing line.
“Oh God,” said Emily, her eyes wide with fear. Anybody would have been terrified, but she was desperately trying to hold her PTSD at bay, too. I put my hands on her upper arms and turned her to face me, then looked into her eyes. For a second, it was almost as if she didn’t see me. “Emily?” I said in a low voice.
She finally focused on me. She was still there—just.
Saving Liberty (Kissing #6) Page 16