All the King's Henchmen

by Morgan Kelley

  It freaked him out to no end. Elizabeth was tough, and she looked really beaten down.

  Hopping into one of their perspective rides, Ivan and Saint left the White House compound and headed home so she, and Doctor Leonard, could rest.

  “I need a nap,” she stated.

  Chris patted his lap.

  Elizabeth laid her head down and closed her eyes. As she fell asleep, and there was only one thing on her mind.

  Not her.

  Not Chris.

  Not even Callen flipping his shit.

  No, they weren’t the things that were plaguing her. There was something else, and she couldn’t wrap her head around it. It wasn’t the concussion.

  No.

  It was the biggest question she had leaving the White House, and it said it all.

  How did someone kill the President of the United States, and no one knew about it?

  How?

  She smelled a rat.

  A big one.

  Chapter Four

  Ronald Regan

  International Airport

  Monday Afternoon

  I t had been a brutal flight. Callen James Whitefox was a man on the edge, and of course, the jet had to circle a few times as it waited for landing instructions. The whole time, he sat there, buckled in, and ready to have a stroke.

  Seriously.

  His eye was twitching.

  His palms were sweaty.

  Callen was minutes from losing his shit.

  All he wanted was to land, get in his ride, and find his wife. He was ready to pull the entire city apart, house by house, to find her. He was like a wolf, willing to kill to find his mate.

  When he did finally locate her, because that was the only damn option he was willing to think about, he was handcuffing her to him for the rest of their lives.

  Callen had made a decision. He wasn’t leaving DC without her. If she was taken, it was his duty to stop anyone who came at her. By being away, he’d dropped the ball.

  Chris couldn’t defend her.

  Ethan, trapped behind a desk, couldn’t protect her.

  It wasn’t on him.

  No.

  This was his duty, and from here on out, Jackson James was going to have to cancel press junkets, any interviews, or things that took him away from her.

  He was a husband first.

  A Fed second.

  Then a writer.

  He’d made a fortune, and it would wait for him. As of late, he’d let his secondary career dictate, and it could have possibly cost him Elizabeth.

  Well, that was done.

  As soon as the jet hit the tarmac and the pilot opened the door, he had his bag and was out of there. He’d put on his badge and gun, switching roles like he would a hat.

  It was that damn fast.

  At that moment, it was Fed time, and he was going to find his wife.

  NOW.

  As he made it into the terminal, he hadn’t gone ten steps when he saw him.

  His brother.

  There stood Ethan, and he had two security guys flanking him. The look on his face wasn’t what he wanted to see. He wasn’t smiling.

  In fact…

  Callen dropped his bag and couldn’t breathe. His whole happy world began crumbling around him. He thought of every bad thing that he could possibly be ready to tell him.

  Oh, Jesus.

  Please.

  NO.

  Ethan approached him, and when he reached him, he pulled Callen into his arms and hugged him. That one action turned his fears into giant concrete blocks that pulled him down further into the panic.

  “She’s okay, right?” he asked, holding his breath.

  “Oh, Cal, I’m so sorry.”

  Tears filled his eyes.

  “No, she can’t be gone. She can’t be. I can’t do this without her!”

  That had Ethan’s attention.

  “What?”

  “Please tell me you didn’t find her, and she’s not dead. If she’s dead…I can’t. I just can’t.”

  A tear fell.

  Ethan realized how this looked.

  Shit!

  “NO! She’s found, and she’s alive. We found her. I’m just upset because she was taken on my watch. I promised I’d have it under control, and I didn’t.”

  The relief set in.

  He hugged his brother in the middle of the airport as people took pictures.

  Blackhawk held him.

  “Please forgive me, Callen. I lost her, and that’s on me. I know how hard this had to be for you.”

  Oh, he had no idea.

  “She’s okay, though, right?”

  He kissed him.

  “She’s banged-up, but she took out seven Secret Service guys, broke some arms, dislocated some guys’ knees, and stabbed a man in the thigh. Well, Chris did that. She busted his face.”

  Callen stared at him.

  What the hell had gone on in DC while he was gone? That sounded like some Hell in a Cell cage match not a normal day in Washington.

  “I need to regroup. I could have sworn you just said Secret Service guys. That can’t be right. Why would the president’s hired thugs go after her…?”

  And then it hit him.

  There was rage.

  Anger.

  Hate.

  “I’ll fucking cut off his balls and feed them to him. He’s dead if he went after our woman. DEAD.”

  Yeah, well, about that.

  “Oh, you don’t need to worry about him.”

  “I mean it, Ethan. I’ll kill him. I won’t tolerate him trying to go after her to get to you.”

  “Let’s go talk in the car. Saint, your guy, is on Elizabeth right now. They got past Ivan, and we’re doubling up the coverage.”

  Yeah, that was fine, but still…

  “The Secret Service?”

  He nodded.

  “It’s classified. We need to be somewhere private before I can tell you anything. We can’t be overheard. We have a mess.”

  Yeah, he was aware.

  “Okay, let’s go home. I want to see my wife and Chris.”

  So did he.

  As they headed toward the terminal exit, Ethan grabbed them both coffee. They were going to need it. Well, Callen would. He was going to lose his mind the second he saw their woman.

  He’d neglected to mention just how badly she’d been beaten. Callen wasn’t going to like that at all, and he couldn’t really blame him.

  They took their coffees, ignored the requests for Callen to sign autographs, and got into the limo.

  Inside, Ethan opened his brother’s coffee cup, dumped in some whiskey that he kept in the back of the limo, added some to his, and then closed the lids.

  Callen watched him like he was insane.

  “Uh, Ethan, the last time we drank whiskey, it was my wedding night, and we ended up going way too far.”

  Yeah, he was aware. Only, they needed it. Well, he definitely did after today. His nerves were shot.

  “Drink.”

  “Uh oh.”

  “Yeah, it’s bad.”

  He glanced over at Johnny while Wilcox was in the front with the driver. Normally, they didn’t have someone with them, and he knew what that meant.

  This was huge.

  “Sweep it,” he told his security.

  He pulled out a device and scanned the inside of the vehicle, and then Callen.

  “You’re clean, Director Whitefox. You’re all clear, too, Deputy Director.”

  Ethan was about to tell him when his brother started asking the questions. Maybe this was better. Callen could digest it in smaller chunks instead of all at once.

  “Why did they take her?” Callen asked.

  “He didn’t take her. The vice president, Gordon Downing, took her and Chris.”

  “What?”

  Ethan dropped the bomb.

  “The president, as of last night, was murdered. Someone beat him to death and cut off his dick.”

  He stared at him
with his mouth open. That was NOT what he was expecting.

  Holy shit!

  “HOW? God! I have so many questions about the logistics behind this.”

  “All we know is at the party…”

  “The one you two were at?” he asked.

  “Yeah, we left early to have some ‘alone time’,” he stated. “We left well before it happened.”

  “Okay, continue.”

  “He went upstairs in the hotel and was killed. I saw the body, and it’s not pretty.”

  “What happened?”

  “We don’t know. All we do know is someone was angry and decided to end his life. The only other thing we know is he was going up to get laid.”

  “Uh, by his wife?”

  Ethan shook his head.

  He told him how the man hired hookers and the Secret Service brought them to him.

  “Assholes.”

  Oh, he agreed.

  “Well, he was killed, and the vice president, now acting president, opted to get help. He had his guys grab her and Chris.”

  “That fucker.”

  “I’m going to show you what happened since you’re her husband, too, and deserve to know everything, but first, I need you to drink your coffee and not lose it.”

  “Oh, I can’t promise that. I just spent ninety minutes thinking my wife was gone, and now I find out that she was being held hostage by the Secret Service. I am going to definitely kill someone. Maybe Ivan for losing her, or maybe them for touching her. The jury is out.”

  Ethan pulled out his tablet.

  “Here are the recordings.”

  Callen watched the first one—where she was taken from the parking lot. He didn’t feel angry at Ivan after watching it. They had snuck up on him.

  “Is he okay?”

  “He nearly cooked in the trunk by the time he could get to his watch, but he’s okay.”

  Callen kept watching.

  “Here’s where they had her in the White House,” Ethan said, and then warned him. “It’s not pretty. This is the part where you might lose it.”

  Callen watched it all, fast-forwarding through the parts that made him want to puke—which was most of them. Finally, he got to the last part.

  It was where the last Secret Service guy was pointing his gun at her. Then they watched as Chris put his body in front of her to keep her safe.

  “Jesus! Chris protected her.”

  “He did. That asshole was pointing a loaded gun at her, and he offered up his own life.”

  Callen calmed down.

  Then he watched her beat the shit out of the guy with a table, scalpel, and her fist.

  “Good for her. Our wife is tough.”

  “Oh, she is, but she’s feeling it. She willingly wanted to go home and rest.”

  He bet.

  Callen was exhausted after watching her.

  Well, at least it was over. They found her, she was battered, but alive, and they’d regroup.

  “Okay, so we have her back, and this is done. Tomorrow, we move on. Maybe we should take a vacation. Want to go back to the house on the…?”

  He saw his brother’s face.

  “What?” Callen asked.

  And here was the meltdown. This was the part he was really worried about. He knew Callen, and this was not going to go over well.

  At all.

  “Drink.”

  “I’m calm.”

  “She’s working the murder of the President of the United States. Gabe is letting her. She starts tomorrow.”

  It hung there.

  Callen stared at him.

  “That’s not funny, Ethan. That’s not even the least bit amusing.”

  He didn’t speak.

  “You’re not yanking my chain, are you?” Callen asked.

  He shook his head.

  “No.”

  “WHAT?”

  “She wants to do it.”

  Callen put down his paper coffee cup, grabbed the bottle of whiskey, and uncorked it. Then, he chugged right from the bottle. He needed it straight, and the coffee only diluted it and his panic.

  Ethan stopped him.

  “You’ll make yourself sick.”

  “Oh, I guarantee that nothing can make me that ill. I’m already there. She is NOT taking this case.”

  He laughed.

  Oh, there were times his brother was so damn naïve, and this was one of those times.

  “You’re funny. Like WE can stop her. Gabe is in charge of this. This one went right over me. The president died on US soil. The FBI, with the US Marshals will be charged with handling it. Our brains, their muscle. So, she’s doing it.”

  Callen couldn’t believe this.

  Today had been a nightmare.

  “Jesus. What the hell, Ethan? How do you kill the President of the United States in a hotel room and not get caught red-freaking-handed?”

  He told him what he knew.

  “He had the security cameras turned off, and his protection duty gave him room to go upstairs and fornicate. It happens, I guess. They give us space.”

  He pointed at Johnny.

  “We listen in, sir,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

  Neither man laughed.

  “Or not.”

  Ethan tried to reassure Callen as much as he could, while also taking Elizabeth’s side. This shitfest had been done to her. She wanted to handle it.

  This was her choice.

  “She’s starting it early, and Chris is doing the autopsy. You’ll be her backup, and I’ll do what I can to pave the way when it comes to interdepartmental cooperation.”

  For some reason, that didn’t make him feel any better.

  “There is more.”

  Ethan told him the rest.

  The confidentiality.

  The no names.

  The harder interview conditions.

  Elizabeth was going to have to do this with both hands tied behind her back—by the new acting president.

  “Oh, this sucks. That’s setting us up to fail. That’s making her the scapegoat if it goes sideways!”

  He was aware.

  “Are you sure we can’t talk her out of this? This is a nightmare. If this gets out, the media will be ALL over her. Worse than they are now. They only dog her because you’re the deputy director and my writing career. If they find out he’s dead, and she’s heading it…?”

  He was aware.

  “If she solves it, she’ll be a hero. If she fails…?”

  “She’s going to be accused of hiding the truth. She’s going to be called all of the names in the book. Twenty years of hard work, dedication, and her bleeding for the FBI will be called into suspicion and tanked.”

  He was aware.

  “I love her so much. My heart…it will always be hers. In it, I know that she shouldn’t do this,” Ethan stated. “To protect her. But here,” he said, touching his head, “I know that if we want this solved, she’s the ONLY way. Elizabeth, and please don’t repeat this,” he said, pointing at Johnny, “she thinks like a killer because she’s been there. She can pull it off.”

  Callen closed his eyes.

  “Plus…”

  “Oh, come on. What is next?”

  He told him about the blackmail, and how Alfie had threatened Bethe’s life.

  Callen was sick to his stomach.

  “That’s all kinds of wrong. Now I want to make them bleed for going there! That pisses me off!”

  And that was likely why she was doing it.

  “Me too.”

  “Okay, I’m in. I want security all over us. I want her LoJacked and GPS’d. I want to make sure that she’s monitored at all times. If the Secret Service dropped the ball, they’ll be covering their asses. Not only will she be the hero or villain, she’s going to be a target.”

  He was well aware.

  “Well, they already hate her. She kicked their asses. She made them look bad. A single woman took down quite a few of their big boys. She put them in the hospital.�
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  “Great. We always need more people gunning for us in DC. It makes it so much more interesting when we leave home to go to work.”

  He laughed.

  “Oh, but you get a raise.”

  He lifted a brow.

  What?

  “Yes, because I need more money. What do I get a raise for now?” he asked.

  “Surprise! It appears that you now do regular killers too.”

  He laughed.

  “Yeah, that’s not a raise. That’s a shitty job surprise like refilling the toilet paper in the john when the cleaning crew has forgotten.”

  “Well, at least it’s not a serial killer. She’s not in danger from that angle. We have ONE body. This should be easy. It was a hotel, and there has to be trace.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I’m never going away again. I don’t care about being an author. When I heard she was gone…”

  He understood.

  “You can do both, Callen. This was an isolated incident. If you have to travel again, we’ll work it out.”

  “Only if she joins me.”

  If that was what his brother needed, Ethan would handle it. There was no way he was letting him give up writing. Callen was damn good at it. While he was a good Fed, he was an exceptional writer. That had to be priority. Ethan’s dream had been to be the head of the FBI, and Callen’s to write. That had to live on.

  “I agree.”

  That helped Callen relax.

  “Let’s stop and get our girl flowers. I want to see her and make sure she’s okay.”

  He was fine with that.

  Johnny gave the driver the instructions.

  “After that, I’ll drop you off. Then I’m going back to the office. While she’s resting, I’ll make sure the body gets transported, Autopsy One is ready to go, and the team is prepped for tomorrow morning. She’s going to want to hit the ground running.”

  He knew his brother was right.

  And she would.

  With him by her side.

  * * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *

  Fort Whitefox-Blackhawk

  Monday Afternoon

  When they arrived at the house, Ivan wanted to carry her upstairs, but Chris wouldn’t let him. Instead, he did it himself with the two security guys running interference so their kids wouldn’t jump on him.