Bringer Unleashed (Logan Bringer Series Book 2)

by Jaz Primo

  “Agent Sanders, Mr. Bringer,” Hill greeted with a stony expression. “So, they’ve escaped?”

  Something in his tone irritated me and I focused my complete attention on him.

  “No, Hill, they damned well disappeared,” I said flatly.

  He appeared taken aback and his eyes widened.

  “Logan,” Sanders quietly prompted as she touched the small of my back with her hand.

  That’s when I realized I’d conjured a small fireball that completely encircled my clenched right fist.

  I extinguished it.

  “My apologies,” Hill said. “I certainly wasn’t accusing anyone of anything.”

  I gave him a curt nod.

  “I’ll just go inside for a moment,” he said, walking past us, but giving us a wide berth.

  A number of police officers and tactical team members stared warily at us. I gazed at them in a single sweep, and to a one, they found somewhere else to focus their attentions.

  * * *

  “What do you mean, we’re being recalled?” I demanded.

  Sanders and I sat around a large conference table with agent Fisk, ACC Hill, and other taskforce members inside the same office building that housed the restricted MI-6 monitoring center.

  Hill appeared unhappy about the revelation.

  “I assure you, it wasn’t my idea,” Hill insisted. “This came directly from the foreign minister’s office only moments ago. Apparently, your President Graydon has issued an executive order recalling you back to the United States. His personal request to the Prime Minister could hardly be rebuffed, relations being what they are.”

  “Why not?” I asked. “Hell, Graydon disregarded your government’s request for assistance early on.”

  “Honestly, the precise details were sketchy, except that it was conveyed as a matter of your nation’s imminent national security,” Hill said. “Perhaps they’ve located a terrorist cell similar to the one here.”

  I looked at Sanders, who shrugged.

  “Call Wainright or Tevin,” I said.

  “Will do,” Sanders replied, rising from the table with smartphone in hand.

  “I can’t believe they would do that given our current situation,” Fisk said, intently watching Sanders exit the room. “We’ve got fugitives running about…God knows where.”

  I didn’t know why, but the way Fisk watched Sanders made me feel just a little jealous.

  “Yes, and that’s the question of the hour, isn’t it?” said the gentleman next to me. I think he’d said he was from Scotland Yard.

  “They could be anywhere,” I said. “And I don’t even mean the UK…I mean anywhere on the planet. Who knows how far of a range that man’s ability has?”

  The room fell eerily silent.

  Hill cleared his throat. “Yes, well, we can only go back to what we were doing for now; monitoring the country’s surveillance systems and asking for the public’s help. The more eyes we have on this, the better.”

  “And what do you plan to do when you find them?” I asked. “If you try cornering them, they may simply disappear again.”

  “We could always shoot them on sight,” Fisk suggested. “Safely taking them into custody may be well outside our capability.”

  There were murmurs of agreement at that. It was hard to argue with such straightforward logic.

  And I didn’t have any better of a suggestion.

  Sanders entered the conference room and returned to her seat beside mine.

  “Wainright said that it’s a political necessity,” Sanders said.

  Political necessity?

  “That’s all he said?” I asked.

  “That’s all he was willing to say at the moment,” she clarified.

  “That’s bloody unhelpful,” Fisk said, to which more murmurs of agreement circulated the table.

  “Well, be that as it may, we’d better see that you’re packed and on your plane home,” Hill said. “Though I’m very sorry to see you go, Mr. Bringer, both you and Agent Sanders have rendered welcome and honorable service to both Crown and country. I can’t thank you enough.”

  That was something, at least.

  * * *

  Two hours later, our plane lifted off from Cardiff International Airport amidst a British fighter jet escort.

  I made my way forward to the cockpit to visit with our pilot.

  “That’s a nice gesture,” I said. “You don’t get to see that every day. Makes me feel sort of important.”

  “That’s a fact, Mr. Bringer,” the pilot replied. “Haven’t had that honor since my transport escorts in the Middle East.”

  “A fly boy, eh?”

  “Yep. Made Lt. Colonel before I got out,” he said. “You?”

  “Nah, ground pounder,” I replied. “Army fire team in the desert. Call me Logan, by the way.”

  He reached up and shook my hand. “Pleasure. Call me Bob.”

  I liked the guy right from the start.

  “Army aside, I’m honored to have you on board, Logan,” he offered with a grin, to which I chuckled. “By the way, these guys seem to have a slightly different course in mind for us to follow. We’ve been informed that U.S. fighters will eventually take over for them, as well.”

  “Thanks. Nice to meet you, Bob,” I said before returning to the rear cabin.

  It made me wonder if we were being protected or just kept under watch.

  “They don’t appear to want us to wander off,” Scott said.

  “Funny, I came to that same conclusion once I thought about it,” I agreed.

  Hours later, after U.S. fighters had taken their places off each wing, we landed at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport, located along the Potomac River.

  Instead of disembarking at the terminal, our jet stopped out on the open tarmac. Men wearing dark suits and earpieces stood outside two limousines and a pair of dark sedans.

  “Welcoming committee,” I announced. “Maybe it’s either Bernard or Wallace.”

  “No, it’s neither,” Strutt said. “I just got off the phone with Mr. Bernard and he’s waiting back at the office in Nevis Corners. He seemed surprised that we landed here, in fact.”

  “Well, stay here with the jet. If we’re not back to our plane in three hours, you need to fly back to Nevis Corners and update Bernard on events until I can meet up with him,” I said, though my attention was on whoever was awaiting us in those limousines.

  “Will do, sir,” he replied.

  I turned to the young man, who had done us good service on our excursion overseas. I reached out to shake his hand.

  “Good job, Calvin,” I said. “I appreciate your help. You were invaluable.”

  He beamed over my use of his first name. “My pleasure, sir. It was memorable, for certain.”

  I turned to Scott and he nodded back at me.

  “Skip the handshake, for now,” he said. “Something out there tells me we’re not done yet.”

  Nevertheless, I shook his hand. “Thanks, but I need you to stay behind with Strutt and make sure he gets back to the home office safely to meet with Bernard. Besides, I’d bet your own perspective will shed additional insight on things.”

  The tall bodyguard returned my handshake. “Will do. Until later, then.”

  I nodded and turned to Sanders. “Ready?”

  She followed me to the cabin door where we each thanked the captain and crew as we exited.

  “Get the rest of our team back home safely, Bob,” I said.

  “Will do. Watch your back, army,” the captain replied.

  “Sierra hotel, fly boy,” I replied.

  As we walked down the steps to the tarmac, Sanders teased me, “You’re so chummy with everyone nowadays.”

  “Just the ones I like,” I replied.

  A man wearing a charcoal gray business suit stepped forward. “Mr. Bringer, Agent Sanders,” he greeted. “I’m Chad Welch, aide to Senator Ben Conway. He’d very much like to meet with you, Mr. Bringer.”

 
“He would, eh?”

  “The senator’s waiting for you in the front limousine, sir. Agent Sanders and any others can ride in the second limousine.”

  “There’s only me and Agent Sanders,” I said. “And Sanders is my partner, so she can ride with me.”

  Welch appeared surprised, but he nodded. “As you wish.”

  Sanders gave me a look of sincere appreciation and followed Welch to the first limousine. I followed Sanders, shamelessly appreciating the view that I recalled Agent Fisk had admired about her.

  One thing was certain: I couldn’t fault Fisk for his impeccable taste in women.

  Sanders and I sat beside each other, facing the rear of the vehicle where Senator Conway sat while Welch sat in the front compartment. As the car proceeded forward, I quietly observed the senator, waiting for him to initiate further conversation.

  He leaned forward and reached across to shake our hands. “I’m Ben Conway. It’s a pleasure to meet America’s latest heroes in the war against terror. Your recent exploits are all the rage in the press at the moment.

  “Senator,” I replied. “Your reputation precedes you.”

  Sanders reached up to push a lock of hair over her ear. It was something I noticed she did when she was either irritated or nervous.

  I opened up my mind.

  …hope Bringer’s careful what he says.

  …sort of man are you, Logan Bringer? We’ll soon see.

  “I hope you like what you’ve heard about me,” he countered.

  “Let’s just say I’m not a close follower of politics, so I might not be the best judge,” I said.

  …cautious player.

  That’s Bringer…king of understatements.

  I tried not to smile over Sanders’ thought.

  “I was invited to a meeting with the President this morning along with his national security team,” Conway said. “The public’s fears have risen considerably since you left the country, Mr. Bringer. As such, I hope you’ll pardon the alacrity regarding your abrupt return home.”

  “Abrupt? Alacrity? Dangerously faulty cars have been factory recalled with greater finesse,” I said.

  Sanders tucked a lock of her hair back in place.

  The senator inclined his head toward me. “Perhaps. However, the nation needs you here more than abroad. You’re our only line of defense against telekinetic terrorist threats.”

  …more needed than most think, in fact.

  …where is he going with this?

  “You mean you’ve identified some new targets of interest?” I asked.

  “America needs you to be readily available rather than far away in Britain,” he said.

  “They’re allies and their need seemed immediate,” Sanders said.

  “Yes, but I understand that your latest contacts have since disappeared on you,” he said.

  What did he know? Or was the senator baiting me?

  “It was…unfortunate and unexpected,” I replied. “It was something we haven’t seen before. And if I may say, you certainly sound well-informed about the details.”

  “Mr. Bringer, I’m Chairman of the Senate Armed Services Committee, as well as a member of the Senate Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs Committee. I also regularly advise the President,” he replied. “I’m aware of a host of details, particularly concerning national security matters.”

  “Speaking of details, perhaps you could tell me why, as the only telekinetic defense of the nation, our rapid response team at the FBI was recently overlooked for emergency funding in favor of the CIA,” I prompted.

  The senator stared back at me.

  …somewhat more than a mere soldier.

  …huge-ass bonus points for Bringer.

  I had to force myself not to laugh or look sidelong at Sanders over her stray thought.

  “And you said you didn’t follow politics,” the Senator said.

  “I don’t,” I said. “But I do keep tabs on what’s going on in my own back yard.”

  “The issue was a matter of limited funds being distributed toward the maximum point of leverage and needs,” he explained. “I’m confident that the FBI would be considered for additional funding if a critical need arose.”

  I leaned forward slightly while maintaining eye contact with him.

  “Senator, a woman who can control other’s minds nearly cost me my partner. Then, a few hours ago, I watched as eight people disappeared right before my eyes,” I said. “We don’t even have a clue as to where they’ve gone—maybe Timbuktu—maybe here in D.C. for all I know. Now, as for me, I’d personally like to know how does that rate on someone’s critical needs list?”

  “I can see that you’re a man of action, Mr. Bringer. I like that,” the senator replied, completely evading my question. “How would you like to be part of our team?”

  …the hell is he talking about?

  I was pretty much in line with Sanders’ thought at that moment.

  “Our team? Just who the hell’s team do you think the FBI is on?” I countered, leaning forward.

  “True enough,” he replied. “What I mean is I’d like to give you unfettered access to decision-makers, help you react quicker to the threats we’re facing.”

  “How’s that possible?” Sanders asked. “We’re already working directly with Deputy Directors Tevin and Wainright on the TASIT taskforce.”

  The senator looked at Sanders as if she were a child who had spoken out of turn.

  I didn’t like that one bit.

  “Ah, yes, your Telekinetic Anti-terrorism Surveillance and Interdiction Taskforce. It was useful in the earliest days of the investigations, but matters have grown beyond that scale since then. We’re talking about threats on a global level, not merely a domestic law enforcement matter. In your defense, Ms. Sanders, I can’t expect you to understand everything that’s happening well above your pay grade,” Conway said. “Suffice to say that key decisions are now being made beyond the scope of Tevin and Wainright. I’m talking about Mr. Bringer reporting to Burt Dulles, Director of the CIA. Dulles and I have been working very closely on the latest threats.”

  …Dulles appreciates the scope and scale of things as they are.

  …Wainright and Tevin were right!

  I glanced over at the shocked expression on Sanders’ face.

  “How about simply inviting TASIT into the fold at upper levels?” I asked. “We’re the most experienced team regarding the threats.”

  “Well, certainly you are,” the senator stipulated. “That’s why I’m inviting you to the table. Besides, I’m better positioned to meet your needs if you can’t acquire immediate support through regular channels. I do have the confidence and ear of the Oval Office, after all.”

  Conway seemed like the sort of man who liked the sound of his own voice.

  “What do you think about changing teams, Sanders?” I asked.

  “Er, Mr. Bringer, I regret that Ms. Sanders was not part of my proposal,” Conway interjected.

  …kind of misogynist asshole is this guy?

  Sanders certainly seemed to have Conway pegged.

  “I think I’ve already said that Agent Sanders is part of my team, not to mention my partner since the start of this investigation,” I said.

  “In the interest of clarity, Bringer was brought onto my team,” Sanders said. “I was originally assigned to investigate the bombing of the Wallace building.”

  Conway looked at me and then at Sanders. “Be that as it may—”

  “If she’s not part of the equation, then I’ll have to decline your offer,” I said.

  A slight smile crossed the senator’s face.

  ...hadn’t seen that before. Now, I understand.

  “I hadn’t realized that the two of you had grown so close while working together over such a short period,” he said, his eyes falling upon Sanders. “Though, it’s easy to understand why, I assure you.”

  …may require a change of plans.

  …about to come unglued! Can
’t shoot a senator…

  “Sanders is one of the most competent agents I’ve met since—”

  “Yes, I’m sure that’s the case, Mr. Bringer,” Conway cut me off, raising one hand. “I’ll need to consult with others before I could modify my proposal. Still, I hope you’ll give the premise of my offer serious consideration until we speak again.”

  “I will,” I said. “Just one more question.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Yes?”

  “Where the hell is this limo taking us?”

  Chapter 18

  Senator Conway was just full of unpleasant surprises. His limo pulled up to the front steps of the Capitol.

  “Mr. Bringer, you and Agent Sanders are expected to attend a closed-door joint session hosting House and Senate security committee members,” Conway said.

  “I didn’t think the House and Senate committees met in joint session,” Sanders said. “Isn’t that historically against protocol?”

  “Agent Sanders, these are truly historic times,” Conway replied. “I’m happy to let the lawyers argue it later for posterity, but for now, I’m trying to keep this country intact.”

  As for me, I didn’t give a damned about protocols, lawyers, or posterity. I just wanted the whole thing to be over and done with so I could return to hunting down my enemies.

  “Senator, why are we wasting time in a committee meeting?” I asked. “You could learn just as much from a field report, and I frankly don’t have the time to deliberate with politicians.”

  Conway shrugged. “Mr. Bringer, we politicians are the ones holding the purse strings, and you can’t fight a war without money. Besides, you might find it instructive to determine where the pulse of the country’s at right now.”

  I caught part of a stray thought from him.

  …then come around and start seeing things my way.

  Conway practically oozed multiple agendas. I sure as hell didn’t intend to turn my back on him.

  Passenger doors on each side of our limousine opened in unison and we all exited the vehicle.

  Conway walked to my side of the limo and reached out to shake my hand. “I appreciate your cooperation, and please consider what we’ve talked about. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some important last-minute business to attend to before the session is underway,” he said. “I’ll see you in there. My aide, Mr. Dulles, will assist you from here.”