“We’ve got two of them back at our place,” Tanya declared. “And, in case you haven’t seen the news lately, shit is already going down across the city. Three unexplainable instances of disruption. A yoga studio attacked, a woman missing from her northside mansion with witnesses firmly in the belief that she flew out the window, and a marketplace shot up with fifty or so civilians in a trance and causing mayhem.”
“Sounds like wherever you guys go, bad things happen,” Grimald commented.
A few of the committee were less difficult to convince. The woman chewed loudly, eyes narrowed at Roman. “So why come to us? Can’t you guys go to the cops? Let them know what’s going on?”
Triton took this one. “Can’t risk it. We’ve not yet secured permission to operate in this city. We go to the cops, they’re going to try and take us in. That can’t happen. At the moment, there aren’t enough of us to cover what’s going on, and this new enemy is growing his forces at an alarming rate.”
“We need you,” Tanya finished.
They fell into a thoughtful silence, the members of the committee glancing at each other uncertainly. Grimald turned to the three. “Would you guys step outside for a minute while we discuss this? You’ve given us a lot to think about.”
Twenty minutes they waited, standing in the corridor and covering their ears as shots fired behind the various booths. When the door eventually opened again, Grimald ushered them back inside.
The woman rose from her chair and folded her arms. “As President of the GOA of Richmond, I say we’re in.”
The rest of the committee stood simultaneously, each striking their heart three times with their fists before sitting back down.
Tanya glanced at Roman, uncertain of what to do next. His expression was as hard to read as ever.
“Good,” he muttered. “Let’s get moving.”
Without another word, he turned and exited the room. The committee members followed without instruction.
Chapter Forty-Six
Washington DC, USA
Daggro couldn’t remember the last time she had left her office. Her usually pristine desk had smudges on its varnished surface from the drool that had leaked from her mouth as she slept. Her eyes were red and her pupils so small they looked to have been swallowed.
There was a knock on the door.
Daggro grumbled. Would it ever end? This incessant non-stop activity of people wanting things, demanding things, needing, always needing things from her. Where the hell was Rogers? She needed him back. He had the experience. He was the one who had guided them this far, and all she was doing was bailing out the canoe while the President chewed his ear and talked strategy.
Another knock sounded.
“What is it?” Daggro grumbled, unable to recognize her own voice.
The door opened, and Daggro immediately sat straighter. The sudden movement made her head swim.
Special Agent in Charge Kurt Rogers swept into the room and stood by her desk. Compared to Daggro, this man was the pinnacle of health. How had he managed to keep in such great shape while she had been steadily declining since the moment he left?
He picked up a stained coffee cup, green stuff growing in the bottom. “Coffee is your problem.” His words were flat, impossible to read his emotion. “Too much caffeine becomes a crutch you can’t afford. That headache you’re about to experience will fade over time, but don’t feed the beast. Wean yourself off it, and you’ll do just fine.”
He took a seat. Daggro was suddenly aware of the stale scent of body odor in the air. When had she last changed her clothes?
“Sir… I… It’s been…” Daggro stuttered.
Rogers stared at her levelly, silencing her with a look. It wasn’t unkind, either. There was pity in his eyes. “It’s a tall ask, I know. This department is too young to be sprinting into battle but needs must. The President is behind us and has just granted us a fresh injection of funding to ensure that we get to the bottom of this. I assume our operatives are in the field and Jennie is among them?”
Daggro’s skin prickled. Jennie was nowhere near her men. She was on her way back to Washington, and the SIA were many steps behind. How would she explain this?
“Well?” Rogers nudged.
Daggro sighed and informed Rogers of the situation, right down to the latest intel fed to her by Jennie.
“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Rogers asked, the first note of disapproval in his words. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Holly, know that the minute this is all over, you will be instantly demoted to your old post.”
Holly’s eyes lowered, tears shimmering.
“It’s not a punishment,” Rogers continued, resting a hand on hers over the desk. “Sometimes we are asked to rise above our station before we are ready. This isn’t your fault, it’s mine. I threw you out of the nest before you were ready to fly. I’d rather you excel in a position that you can handle than fail in a position you can’t.”
“I…” Daggro stumbled over her words. “I can. I’m ready.”
Rogers gave her a sympathetic smile. “No. You’re not. But I’m back now and ready to take the helm. Fill me in on everything. The more I know, the more I can get to the bottom of this and help turn this all around. What do I need to know?”
Holly’s heart quickened. There was so much she hadn’t told him. Not only had she held back on letting him know that Jennie was coming to Washington, but how could she tell him about Lionus? About Rhone…
There was nothing for it. He would find out eventually. She told him everything, all the facts from the moment he had left for the White House. Her shoulders softened with each truth told, and after she was done, she had hardly any care left for the scolding expression on his face.
At least I can sleep soon, she thought. I can sleep until my mind is fully rested, and the final weight will be off my shoulders.
* * *
Jennie checked in with Sturgeon and Lionus on the way back to Washington. The journey wasn’t long, but it gave her enough time to get an overview of the situation.
She drained one of Hendrick’s solutions and offered more to her crew. She was nearly out. She’d have to visit Hendrick again soon. There was no time to sleep.
Sturgeon informed Jennie that they had come across an abandoned lot where operations for the detonations had clearly been planned. They found a few clues and had interrogated a number of specters, but the only information they had gotten from them was that their leader was gone. When pressed, they ascertained their head honchos had only left the city within the last twenty-four hours or so.
Lionus’ information was similar. Jennie begrudgingly pulled the information from him. She was tired of having to threaten the junior. Soon Rogers would be informed of this and balance would hopefully be restored once more.
“Why have they all left?” Carolyn asked the crew in the Airbus. “Blow shit up and disappear? Is that what people normally do?”
“When they want to flee the scene of the crime,” Cassie admitted. “I thought about it, but our initial instructions were to stay put. I wonder what changed.”
“Everything has changed,” Jennie muttered, an unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Everything.”
* * *
Kurt Rogers exited Daggro’s office and glanced up and down the empty corridors.
Most of the agents had been deployed by Daggro, and the SIA HQ was like a ghost town. He had only passed a couple of agents on the way down, and they had all looked as exhausted as she did.
I leave for five minutes, and this shit falls to pieces.
It had taken every ounce of his willpower to not rip Daggro a new asshole. She had shown such promise, but it turned out her ego had gotten in the way of her servitude. He would berate her soon. At that moment, there was little point. She was too tired to take any of it in.
At the end of the corridor, a group of agents shuffled quickly into and out of sight. There must have been half a dozen of them, carrying some
thing between them.
Probably something for the labs, no doubt.
The hairs on the back of Roger’s neck raised. He wasn’t sure what it was, but something was registering as faulty.
He walked toward the T-junction. When he reached the end, he looked in either direction, surprised to see the agents were already out of sight. Should they have been moving so quickly? Actually, thinking about it now, had there been something off about their uniforms?
An itch clawed at the back of his mind, and without thinking, he reached for his pistol and followed in the direction they had headed.
* * *
Jennie was surprised by the number of agents awaiting them back at SIA HQ.
She only planned a brief visit to Daggro and check whether they had any further intelligence or scanning systems they could use to look for trouble.
Surely they must have some intelligence on potential bomb threats or criminal activity in the area? No criminal can just walk in undetected, right?
They must have come over in some kind of plane or helicopter. Jennie was almost certain she should be able to narrow down Craig’s location based on that.
Two dozen SIA agents gathered in the reception area. She passed by them without a word, not wanting to draw attention or create another situation like she had with Lionus and his boys. The corridors inside were emptier, and Jennie wondered what they were all doing at the front.
She found Daggro’s office and knocked loudly on the door. There was no answer. She shoved the door open and found Daggro lying on her desk, head resting on folded arms.
“Dead?” Baxter asked.
Jennie took the gross mug of mold and coffee and tipped it on Daggro. She shifted with a start and pushed herself up. Her eyes were red and bleary. “Wha… Oh! I was sleeping!”
“On the job?” Jennie asked.
Daggro pawed her eyes. “Rogers’ orders. Says I need it. I’m inclined to agree.”
Jennie’s ears pricked up at Rogers’ name. “You spoke to him? Is he with the President? We need to warn him—”
“He’s here,” Daggro interjected. “He came back to see how we’re doing.” Her words were slurred, so drunk with tiredness that she smiled while she spoke. “I’m being demoted. Can you believe it? Demoted. He’s got some words left to spew at me, I can tell. Bless him, he’s waiting until I’m rested enough to take it. I know these things.” She tapped her nose, her head drooping.
“Where is he?” Jennie asked.
“Outside. Somewhere.” Daggro yawned. “I’m surprised you didn’t see him in the corridor.”
Jennie turned to the others. “I didn’t. Did you?”
They shook their heads.
“Aw, man,” Jennie muttered as she detected a faint pulse of spectral energy from outside. “I think we’ve got a problem.”
* * *
The farther Rogers went, the more concerned he became.
He had caught up with the agents, managing to hear their footsteps when they sprinted down the stairwell. He lingered far enough behind to remain undetected but struggled to find them again when he came to the multitude of doors leading to the different parts of the HQ building.
Nearing the basement—the location of the new rec room—he heard a disruption up ahead. There were shouts, and a handful of shots were fired. Rogers peeked through the small window of glass on the door and his heart dropped.
There were more of them there. At least two dozen men dressed similarly to his men, but clearly not agents. The bodies of the real agents lay on the floor, blood pooling around them as the intruders set up a large device in the center of the room. One man tapped buttons while the others kept lookout.
A bomb. Rogers gasped. He looked longingly back at the stairs, wishing that he had someone else with him.
But who was left? He had come into the facility expecting to speak to Daggro before putting himself back to work and contacting others to recall them to HQ. He hadn’t even hooked himself up with a radio. His assistant was waiting in his office, likely setting up refreshments while Hopkins filled her in on his side of things.
There was nothing for it. Rogers was going to have to go in. These men looked set on causing destruction, and there was only one man available to stop them.
A flutter of excitement coursed through his veins. How long was it since he’d been on the sharp end? He cocked his gun, readied himself, and shoved the door open.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Washington DC, USA
Jennie went down the corridor, following the trail of spectral energy. The way ahead was quiet. Too quiet. She found herself at the staircase, and loud noises greeted her.
Shots were fired. A door slammed at the bottom of the stairwell. Jennie ran ahead, pausing as she got to the next floor down as dozens of SIA agents ran toward her.
“What’s going…” was all she managed before someone took a shot at her.
She ducked out of the way and pushed back through the door. She had only glimpsed them for a moment, but the mass of SIA agents moving toward her was large. She couldn’t get an accurate count, but the ones she had seen didn’t seem too pleased to see her.
She ran back down the corridor, pausing only when she’d reached cover at a bend. She steadied her gun and took aim at the door, waiting for the agents to spill out.
The door slammed open so hard the glass window shattered. Agents flooded toward her. It was Jennie’s turn to fire.
She sent two warning shots over the crowd and shouted, “Freeze, motherfuckers, before I open this baby up and splatter you on the walls.”
The agents paid no heed. In fact, a few at the back pressed forward, sudden fear on their faces. Jennie didn’t recognize any of the agents, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t met them, even if their clothes were rather ill-fitting.
They broke into a run, firing one after the other as Jennie backed once more down the corridor and ducked inside the open doorway to an office.
She waited there with Rhone, Baxter, Carolyn, Sandra, and Cassie. The agents didn’t come for them, they fled down the corridor. After they had passed, Jennie stuck her head out, her brow creased in confusion.
“What the fuck is going on?” She turned her head and saw a specter trailing to catch up with the others. Jennie latched onto the specter and dragged her into the room with them.
She held the Big Bitch to her forehead. “Tell me why they’re running. What’s happening down there?” Jennie’s teeth barely parted as she roared at the specter.
The specter grinned. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
Jennie punched her in the face and shook her. “Tell me!”
The specter’s eyes rolled. She shook her head, but the smile stayed on her face. “You might want to run, Rogue. Your whole operation is about to blow.”
A sudden dawning realization came over Jennie. “No. Not here. But… How?”
Jennie’s mind flashed back to the moment she’d received the news of the break-in that had freed Zhao. Surely whoever had broken in the first time hadn’t returned again? How had his passes and locks worked?
The specter laughed. “Time’s ticking. It’s too late to save your friend, but you can escape.”
Jennie’s eyes widened. Rogers!
* * *
Time moved in slow motion. Jennie latched onto her spectral energy cells and darted through the wall. Her muscles were tensed, her weapons clutched in a white-knuckled grip.
She melted through the stairwell door and allowed herself to fade through the floor. She plummeted through the stairs, making herself material only when she reached the bottom floor. Without hesitation, she dived through the final door and into the rec room.
The scene before her was pandemonium. Bodies littered the floor. It was impossible to tell who was friend and who was foe. Machines had broken, chairs were toppled, the whole thing looked like a bomb had already exploded.
The bomb…
Movement drew her eye to the bomb. A solitary figure
dragged his body toward the device. One leg trailed behind, leaving red streaks, but it didn’t slow him down. Not even that racking cough stopped him from his purpose.
“Rogers!” Jennie sprinted toward the Special Agent in Charge. His uniform was torn, one of his arms twisted at an unnatural angle. Holes in his trousers told of several bullet wounds, but he pressed on.
“Disarm…it.” Rogers gasped for air. “Disarm…the bomb.”
Jennie knelt by his side and relieved him of the colored wires he held in one hand. A knife was clutched in his palm. How was he going to cut the right wire with just one hand?
“Tell me how,” Jennie instructed. She didn’t want to look at him; judging by the glaze coming over his eyes, he was already fading. “Tell me which wire.”
“Blue…” Rogers managed before his eyes closed and he slid onto his front.
Jennie’s brow was peppered with sweat. She clutched the wire with shaking hands, praying that “blue” was the right instruction and not the ramblings of a dying man.
“Blue,” Jennie repeated. She pulled the wire taut, brought the knife to it, and—
A blow from the side shoved Jennie back. The knife flew from her hand. She slid across the smooth floor and looked around for her attacker. There was no sign of anyone.
Another blow to her cheek. Then another to her stomach. Her attacker was invisible, which meant he was spectral. She hadn’t been hit like that in some time.
A cackle echoed around the chamber. Jennie could make out footsteps on the metal staircase as her comrades came to her. She closed her eyes, and another blow caught her shoulder, then her waist. She was winded and gasped for air.
“Did you miss me?” The specter’s voice came from all around. She clenched her jaw, knowing who she was dealing with but not quite believing the bastard was back.
“Rico?” Jennie called into the empty space. “Come out and fight me like a man!”
Agents, Agreements and Aggravations: In Her Paranormal Majesty’s Secret Service™ Book Three Page 37