Phaedra was looking more than a little wide-eyed, chewing at her bottom lip nervously, the skin there ragged. Kyle stepped forward and opened his arms, all the silent permission she needed to dart in for a hug. Phaedra twined her skinny arms around his waist and hugged him tightly, forehead digging into his chest.
“He’s hurting them,” she whispered shakily.
Kyle froze, hands going still against her back and head. “Phaedra? Do you know where Alexei and Sean are?”
She nodded, sniffing loudly. “It’s dark, and they hurt.”
Kyle closed his eyes, trying not to let his anger show through his body. He wasn’t angry at Phaedra—could never be angry at a child like that—but what her words suggested left him feeling devastatingly helpless.
Katie came and knelt on one knee beside them, resting her hand on Phaedra’s back. “Will you show me?”
“Ovechkina,” Nazari warned.
“We didn’t ask her to use her power, sir,” Katie said, not looking away from Phaedra. “She did so on her own.”
“The courts won’t see it that way.”
“All due respect, sir, but if the courts can find a way to let me strip memories from the traitors in the interrogation room behind us, then the courts can find a way to make sharing the information Phaedra has legal. We need what she’s capable of seeing.”
Mercedes caught Kyle’s eyes, her expression blandly neutral, even if her telepathic voice was not. If Nazari says no, Ekaterina and I will work with Phaedra regardless of the consequences. I have no love for the bastards who make Splice.
Everyone knew Mercedes had lost her family while on vacation in Brazil at the age of twelve. She’d become a ward of the state before signing up with the MDF at eighteen, turning her back on a civilian life. During her early teenage years, Mercedes had been strictly monitored by the MDF. Phaedra was in the same predicament, the two of them sharing a similar childhood. If anyone understood what it was like living a life while being bound by laws restricting an integral part of themselves, it was Mercedes.
Maybe the director understood that. Maybe Nazari knew he risked losing their trust if he continued by the book and denied the request. But the MDF needed Alpha Team more than they needed the agency. Kyle had no problem walking off the base, never to return again, if the agency wouldn’t let him fight to get Alexei and Sean back alive.
“See what you can find out. I’ll get Legal to start working on a brief outlining our reasons why we recruited a minor to help,” Nazari said.
Kyle couldn’t hear any reluctance in the director’s voice, but then again, he doubted they would ever be privy to his true feelings. Like any good commanding officer, Nazari exuded an outward calm in moments of crisis that had rarely been shaken. Today was no different.
“Link me,” Kyle told Katie.
You think I’m stupid enough not to? she retorted.
Katie’s telepathy locked his mind to hers, pulling him back down into the weird sensation of another person’s mind. Only this time, the thoughts weren’t as sharp, the breadth of a mind he could sense through Katie’s power not so deep.
Minds grow as a person gets older.
That made sense. That didn’t stop how fucking weird it was sliding through another person’s mind. He had no control, no ability to think beyond the space of Katie’s power.
You get used to it.
I hope not, Kyle muttered.
Her laughter was a soft echo in the center of his brain. Beneath it was the curious mental touch of a child, bright and open, reaching for them with far more ease than Kyle would ever be able to produce.
Here, Phaedra said.
Her mind opened like a hothouse flower blooming in a green-zone farm tower. Kyle wasn’t ready for the cascade of images that slammed into his mind, even with Katie there to mentally steady him and sift expertly through what Phaedra’s clairvoyant power picked up.
Kyle’s stomach crawled up his throat when he got a good look at Alexei in the basement room. Before he could process much more than how broken and bloody his older brother looked, the room disappeared.
Show me, Katie coaxed. Pull outward through their location. Yes, like that.
With a dizzying mesh of colors that burned against his eyelids, Kyle watched as Phaedra’s power stretched through occupied rooms before reforming onto a street. The sky was overcast, dim, almost-winter sun reflecting dully off plas-glass windows and rooftops lined with solar panels. Seawall barriers that protected the city from storm surge and flooding during hurricanes and heavy winter storms glinted on the horizon.
He knew those seawall barriers.
The static in the back of Kyle’s mind, present since losing Alexei, finally quieted. The calmness that settled over him was like a breath of fresh air as Kyle opened his eyes and craned his head around to look over his shoulder at his team.
“They’re in Boston.”
Boston wasn’t nearly as cold as it used to be even a hundred years ago. The wintery Arctic wind brought with it a chill that still required a coat, but the snow in old pictures rarely fell as thick and as often as it used to. Jamie ducked his head against a particularly strong gust as he stared at his tablet, the cold breeze slipping beneath the collar of his knee-length wool coat. The difference in weather between here and Los Angeles was still extreme.
He’d been on the ground at Boston Common since 0600, working with the private security company his family employed, the Secret Service, and the Boston Police Department to secure the open-air public park. That was after a sleepless night of conferencing with far too many people who had opinions they wanted to voice and which Jamie didn’t want to hear. It was aggravating to know the Secret Service and Boston PD, while dedicated to their jobs, seemed to be humoring him when it came to his military background. Apparently, The New York Times’ exposé on him back in January and numerous attack ads against his father since then had colored their opinion of his record—and lack thereof, depending on the story—and the patronizing tone people had taken with him over the night had pissed him off more than a little.
Luckily, he hadn’t received any pushback from their private security who knew the family and had worked with the Callahans for years. It helped a good number of them knew his true identity. While those men and women wouldn’t breathe a word about him, they made their preference known to the other groups handling security—Jamie’s orders came above everyone else’s.
He’d probably be in a better mood if he hadn’t taken a call from the director at 0730 regarding the missing members of his team and needing to act like this was the first time he’d heard about it.
Which, honestly, wasn’t difficult to do.
It had been a short, if ugly, conversation.
Jamie could understand why the director would want him to keep his focus on Boston, but it was getting harder by the minute to stay. The campaign rally was scheduled to start at 1200 sharp, less than thirty minutes from now. People had been arriving for the past couple of hours, and the crowd of supporters had filled in nearly all available space within the barrier fencing Boston PD had set up.
Protesters had vowed to stage a demonstration against Richard during his speech, and had begun gathering some distance away at Boston City Hall just as early as his father’s supporters. They were set to start marching soon down Beacon Street since Tremont Street was closed to the general public for security purposes.
The threat of the two groups meeting and turning violent was in the back of everyone’s mind. Keeping everyone separated during the rally timeframe was a tough job Jamie hoped they would be successful at. He’d done all that he could on such short notice. Jamie knew he needed to watch over his family, but his team needed him just as badly.
“Shit,” Jamie muttered as the smart-glass screen of his tablet cracked beneath his thumb.
He rubbed hard at his forehead with his free hand. Jamie couldn’t remember the last time he’d broken something because he lacked control. When he’d first been changed i
nto a metahuman, sure, he’d had a difficult time getting control of his enhanced strength, but by now it was second nature to moderate his grip. The stress of the situation was definitely getting to him.
“You look like you’re about to kill someone.”
Jamie raised his head, watching as Leah was escorted by a group of Secret Service agents past the gathered security to where he stood near the Parkman Bandstand on the southeast side. The old, open-air structure was no longer so open, the gaps between the support pillars filled in with temporary bullet-proof plas-glass panes. Richard would be giving his speech from within its safe confines while holoscreens projected his three-dimensional image amongst the crowd at digital receiving platforms. Those were just one of many security features Jamie had brainstormed and ordered be implemented in the face of his father’s refusal to move or cancel the damn rally.
“Would if I could,” Jamie replied flatly. “Are you wearing your Kevlar-lined vest?”
Leah wrinkled her nose at him and tugged at the front of her stylish coat dress that was just slightly too large for her slim frame, though no one except the fashion blogs might notice. “It’s making me hot.”
“Don’t take it off.”
“I know.”
Jamie swallowed the urge to snap at her. He knew the campaign was wearing on Leah as much, if not more, than it weighed on him. She’d shouldered the brunt of the family facetime required during the early months of the campaign while he went on missions for the MDF. Jamie had long fought against splitting his focus for this exact reason. He couldn’t clone himself and be in two places at once.
Leah sighed, bumping her shoulder against his arm. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I know you had a long night.”
From flying in extra manpower at the last minute to getting authorization to place Boston PD snipers on the surrounding rooftops by waking up the superintendent-in-chief to get approval, long night was an understatement. Jamie had chewed his way through private, local, and federal security groups to put in place all the extra protection he could around his family. His efforts felt hollow, though, with the knowledge that Alexei and Sean were still missing and possibly—
Jamie cut that thought off.
Don’t go there, he told himself.
The fear scratching at the back of his throat kept wanting to choke him. That clawing, chilling panic was held at bay by sheer will and teeth-grinding determination. Jamie knew if he gave in to that old nightmare made new again, he’d lose his desperately-fought-for focus, and that was something he couldn’t afford right now.
“Jamie?”
He blinked, training his gaze on his sister’s worried face. “What?”
Leah frowned at him, reaching out to gently touch a hand to his elbow. “What’s wrong?”
“Besides the obvious?”
“You being in captain mode isn’t unusual. You not paying attention when I’m talking? That’s cause for concern.”
“I was listening.”
Leah arched an eyebrow, the look in her eyes reminiscent of their mother’s when she waited to hear what lies they were about to tell as children. “Really?”
Jamie sighed. “No, I wasn’t. My apologies.”
“So what’s wrong?”
He didn’t want to burden her with the news that two members of his team were missing—Jamie considered Sean one of his at this point—but he knew Leah cared about them. She’d come around often enough over the past few years to get to know them. His sister understood, better than their parents, what his team meant to him.
Jamie still couldn’t open up his mouth and explain how he’d failed his team.
Leah must have seen something on his face, because she leaned in, eyes locked on his face. “Is it Kyle?”
“He’s fine,” Jamie said quietly.
“But someone else isn’t?”
Jamie would have responded, except Burwell peeled off from his little group of agents. “Your father is here.”
Jamie looked over Burwell’s shoulder in the direction of Tremont Street. He could see the flashing lights of his father’s motorcycle police escort through the bare branches of the trees in the park. Jamie automatically scanned the rooftops of the surrounding area, picking out where the Boston PD snipers had made their nests. His mind swiftly ran through the possible locations for counter-snipers, and he wished he had Kyle with him.
Kyle would know best where to look for the threat. His eyes and battlefield calmness was something Jamie desperately needed right then, and for always. For a moment, Jamie thought about the ring he’d given to Katie for safekeeping while he waited to set up the perfect moment to ask Kyle one important question. In the midst of everything happening right now, Jamie was acutely aware of how waiting might not be the right choice. Safety wasn’t in their job description, and the right time might never happen in war.
I need to ask, Jamie thought to himself, the decision steadying him.
As he watched the flurry of movement in the distance that was security preparing to escort his father into Boston Common, Jamie’s comms rang in his ears. He answered immediately.
“Callahan,” Jamie said.
“We know what city Dvorkin and Delaney are being held in, and as of right now, they are still alive,” Nazari said, foregoing any pleasantries.
The world whited out at the edges at those words. Jamie fought back the lurching lightheadedness that momentarily assailed him. He started walking, brushing rudely past Burwell and heading in the direction of the street.
“Where?” he ground out.
“Boston. Seaport District, at the docks. Alpha Team is wheels up with Gamma Team. They have orders to rendezvous with you.”
“Jamie, where are you going?” Leah called out to him.
Jamie ignored her, swiftly cutting through the clusters of campaign aides, volunteers, and security personnel milling about between himself and his parents. “I’ll meet them dockside.”
“You will wait for them, Callahan,” Nazari ordered sharply.
He barked out a bitter laugh, unable to hold back the anger that seeped into his voice. “I don’t think so.”
Jamie cut the line, lengthening his stride. The police had kept this area of the park accessible only to people working on the campaign and to the media. Jamie was acutely aware of the cameras pointed his way as he approached his father.
Richard was smiling and shaking hands with local campaign members who had helped organize today’s rally. Charlotte was by his side, smiling just as widely, ever the engaged politician’s wife. Jamie caught his father’s eye as he approached, unsurprised when Richard didn’t stop smiling and projecting a calm demeanor for the crowd.
“I need to talk to you, Father,” Jamie said when he got within earshot.
Maybe it was the look on his face, or the tone in his voice, that had the crowd of sycophants and aides quickly getting out of his way. They didn’t go far, attention riveted on a family drama Jamie didn’t want to play out in front of the public, but he had no choice.
“Jamie—” Richard began.
“It’s not a request.”
Jamie grabbed his father by the elbow and hauled him around, not caring how it would look for the cameras. Charlotte stared at him in surprise before hurrying after them. Richard tried to shrug out of Jamie’s grip, but Jamie tightened his fingers without apology.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Richard snapped, too aware of their location and their status to shout out his frustration.
Jamie rocked them both to a halt some distance away and turned to face his father. “You need to cancel the rally.”
Richard stared at him, mouth parting in shock, before he let out a disbelieving laugh. “You have to be joking. I’m giving my speech in less than thirty minutes after you introduce me.”
“It’s not safe.”
“I was under the impression you’d secured the area. Are you discounting your abilities now?”
The slight sneer coming through his father
’s voice, the way he stared down his nose at Jamie, shattered the tight hold Jamie had on his temper. The realization that his father would put his reputation and desire to win the ultimate prize above the safety of their family wasn’t the cluster bomb it should have been. Deep down, Jamie had always known his father would make this choice.
That didn’t make it any easier to swallow.
Jamie leaned in close, almost nose to nose with his father, and said, “I’m leaving.”
Richard was the one who blinked first, rearing back at the vicious anger in Jamie’s voice. “You have an obligation to your family—”
“Fuck your idea of obligation.”
“Jamie!” Charlotte admonished, keeping her voice low to keep from being overheard. “What is going on?”
Leah finally caught up to them, a little out of breath from her quick jog in sky-high heels, glancing worriedly between their parents and Jamie. “The press is watching.”
“I don’t fucking care,” Jamie said as he stepped back, never taking his eyes off of Richard. “Two members of my team are being held prisoner by the enemy in an unknown location here in Boston, the same enemy who most likely tried to kill you yesterday, Father. I’m leaving to get them back. If you won’t take my advisement under consideration, then that’s on you. I’m done trying to please you for the sake of your career when my family is in danger.”
“We are your family,” Richard snapped back harshly, losing the calm expression on his face in favor of affronted anger.
“My team has stood by my side right from the beginning. The same can’t be said of you, Father. I’m tired of pretending you’ll come to your senses and put your family first above your desire to claim the White House. You want to stay here and give a speech while risking your life after I’ve warned you of the threat multiple times? Then be my guest.”
Later, maybe, he’d regret the words, but in the moment, Jamie meant every last one.
He turned his back on his family and walked away, heading for the street. Heart pounding in his chest, Jamie opened up his comms on the private encrypted channel they used in the field.
In the Blood (Metahuman Files Book 4) Page 20