Defense Breach

by Lisa Phillips

  She didn’t need to be thinking this much about a man she’d just met. The Secret Service filled the gaps in her life. Yes, she knew it wasn’t healthy to focus so much on work. On being the best she could be, and having the most fulfilling career she could. But only once she’d reached those goals would Skylar think about relationships again.

  Skylar prayed as she waited for one of the Homeland agents to look her way. “Can I talk to you?”

  He shrugged and wandered over, apparently considering none of them a threat since they were trussed up like Thanksgiving turkeys. “What?”

  “I was serious about the live rounds. I think some men sneaked in with the exercise, and they’re up to something. They might even be the ones who brought me and Grady here.”

  What if they’d been dragged to the Yellow Oval Room purely because they had overheard what they weren’t supposed to? Those men wanted to silence her and Grady. They’d succeeded in getting them contained in this room—buying the thieves a period of time to steal whatever they wanted. But Skylar and Grady could tell everyone what they knew, and how would that help Wilson and his agenda?

  Her brain was still sluggish from being unconscious, but this still didn’t make sense. Why bring them in here? These guys didn’t seem to know the exercise was moot at this point. Which begged the question, had they been brought here as part of the exercise or because those thieves wanted them out of the way?

  “So what if they were the ones who dropped you off here?” he said. “It’s all part of the exercise, right?”

  “Please just listen to me.” She had an idea, one she hated resorting to, but it just might work. She tried to look helpless. Men always liked to fix a woman’s problems, right? Looking like she was distressed was good. Tears would be too much.

  He came closer, his gaze softening. “I know you think something’s wrong, but it isn’t. The guys who brought you in were in overalls like the rest of us.” He moved, his boots right beside Grady’s legs.

  “So were those men. Did one of them have an English accent, even just a little—”

  Grady’s legs lifted. He swung them into the man’s knees.

  The Homeland agent tipped forward, right onto Skylar. She shoved at him with her shoulder as he came toward her, purely out of reflex. Selfpreservation, that was all.

  Breath whooshed out of him as he fell to the side. The guy on the other side of her kicked him in the head with his bound legs and knocked him out.

  The other agent ran over.

  One of the Secret Service guys grabbed the Homeland agent’s gun with his bound hands and held it on the second agent. “Drop it.”

  The Homeland agent put his hands up.

  *

  Grady sat up as admiration filled him for Skylar’s quick assessment of the situation. Getting the hostile to come over had been a good move. “Well done, Skylar, distracting him so we could get the drop on him. That was a nice move, too.”

  Skylar’s smile held more surprise than anything else. “You’re welcome.”

  A couple of the agents had guns on the Homeland gunman. They didn’t look pleased about how things had played out so far.

  Grady said, “You were really trying to ask that man about the English guy?”

  “Well…yeah.”

  He shook his head and checked the unconscious gunman’s pockets. “Anyone got a knife?” He glanced around. “There are thieves in the White House, and we need to stop them.”

  No one argued.

  “You don’t think I should’ve tried to find out what they know?” Skylar’s head tipped to one side and she said, “These guys could be part of it.”

  One agent twisted and pulled out a multitool from the side pocket of his cargo pants, which he used to cut everyone’s bonds. When everyone in the group was free, and the gunmen were secure, they huddled up. One of the men was Grady’s team leader. The gray-haired agent lifted both hands. “Okay, people—”

  Skylar said, “Wait a second.” She wasn’t done talking to Grady about this.

  The agent shot Skylar a look, and she closed her mouth rather than argue. Which was good. His speech was long-winded considering they needed to get moving. Procedure dictated their next move. First, they needed to retake the White House, and bring in everyone who was inside and not a Secret Service agent. That would take care of Wilson and his gang. Afterward, they could figure out who those men were.

  The team leader said, “Does everyone have their—”

  A deep-toned, slow clap preceded a man walking into the room.

  “That’s the third HVAC repairman who’s a hostile. From the briefing.”

  Grady nodded.

  This guy and the two Homeland agents. Then Skylar and the two army guys—Simmons and Johnson. Six hostiles.

  “What are—” At her outburst, Grady squeezed Skylar’s elbow, and she closed her mouth, then shot him a look. “Is that that?”

  She was right. This was Wilson, which meant they had to play this carefully. The man could have live rounds in his weapon. And why had he come in now, when he could’ve come in while the hostiles had them tied up?

  Grady braced while Wilson continued his lazy applause. He crossed halfway into the room and faced them like he was some magnanimous leader, used to wearing a mantle of power. Not uncommon in this house, but still. Who was this guy, really?

  He glanced at his team, but none of them seemed to recognize Wilson. They just looked quietly cautious—like they weren’t sure whether to believe Skylar or simply wait and see what was about to happen. That caution could likely save as many lives as quick action often did, but right now Grady wished he could communicate to them all that they should just rush Wilson and take him down.

  “Well done. Well done.” The words were smooth, like a concerted effort to downplay the sharpness to his accent. He almost sounded fully American. Almost. “I congratulate you both on figuring it out.” Now no trace of the English accent remained.

  The guy was good.

  “Is the exercise over?” one of the agents said.

  Wilson shook his head. “You’ll still get your chance to take down all the hostiles, but this part is complete. The next phase will begin soon. I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to congratulate the lady present on her clever deduction.”

  Grady studied him. The perfect posture under those baggy overalls. The long line of his Roman nose and dark eyes. He almost looked like a Victorian-age villain from a movie. A throwback to a bygone era. The English accent would have fit better.

  Grady was probably reading way too much into this. “Great,” he said. “Good to know.”

  He didn’t like the idea someone might’ve sneaked in under cover of the exercise for an entirely different reason. The Secret Service didn’t need any more black marks on their record, when day-to-day their skill—and heroics—went largely unnoticed. They only got mentioned in the media if they did something wrong. Not every other day, when things were normal and everyone remained safe.

  If there was something untoward going on in the White House today, they would all go above and beyond to neutralize the threat. It was what they did.

  Wilson smiled, though there was no humor in the curl of his lips. “This was no ordinary takeover of the White House, but so much more.”

  Like what? The theft of a clock? Grady couldn’t help asking himself that question. More likely this display of theatrics was a further attempt to silence Skylar. And Grady. The two of them were in danger now.

  What was Wilson going to do?

  “Congratulations.” Wilson paused, giving an exaggerated wave toward the door. “If you would come with me, the two of you.” He glanced at Grady. “I’ll endeavor to make the rest of the exercise a little more…interesting for you.”

  Skylar went first. More than a little caution in her steps.

  “Farrow.”

  He glanced back at his team leader. Mouthed, Find the thieves.

  His team leader nodded, playing along so Wilson did
n’t suspect. If there was even a chance he and Skylar were right about all this, the man couldn’t ignore it. “Get yourself a radio. I’ll coordinate.”

  The agents grabbed the weapons that had been confiscated from them as well as the unconscious gunmen’s.

  Wilson gave him no opportunity to get a gun of his own. “Let’s go.” The man moved to the door, his motion giving Grady no choice but to be herded to the door.

  He followed Skylar, figuring a couple of men as backup would be right behind them. He was going to question this guy and get to the bottom of what was happening here.

  Grady shifted his ankle on the next step to feel the holster there. Even his backup weapon was gone. He had no way to protect himself, or Skylar, if Wilson tried to silence them.

  He glanced back to see where their backup was at.

  “This is so fun,” Skylar chattered as they walked the hall. “It’s turning out even better than I’d expected.” She was playing her part—the rookie agent who believed this was just all part of the exercise. But why did she think that tactic would work with this guy now? Was she still determined to get answers?

  The man smiled, but there was no life in it. “I’m so glad.”

  Grady caught an edge in the man’s tone he thought Skylar missed. With one glance back at his team leader, Grady lifted his hand to give the man a signal to move in. Grady didn’t want to be alone and unarmed with Wilson for any longer.

  Before he could call back to his team, Wilson swung his arm around Grady’s shoulders. He stiffened, but the man squeezed him hard enough he almost broke a rib. Or his collarbone. He hissed out a breath.

  Wilson ignored it. “You’re going to be surprised. That’s for sure.”

  Grady didn’t agree. Something about this didn’t sit right with him. Despite the fact that Skylar seemed to have completely changed her mind about this man being up to nefarious activity—or at least she was pretending as much—he wasn’t about to abandon caution that easily.

  Wilson walked them down two flights of stairs. Grady couldn’t step into the space without saying, “What was with the live rounds your men had? You could have killed one of us.” He figured this guy was in charge but didn’t know for sure.

  “Bah.” Wilson waved off his concern. “I wouldn’t have hit you. I was just trying to scare you. All part of the day’s fun.” His words had an edge to them that kept Grady from relaxing. Then he said, “Sorry if it upset you.”

  Right. Like that was the problem.

  Skylar said, “Well, they did damage the White House.” She pointed to the door frame they’d hit. A hole in the wood and splintered shards surrounded the silver end of a bullet embedded there. “I’m sure someone will take that out of your paycheck.”

  “I’m sure,” he said with a humorless smile. “Now, where is my associate?”

  They waited a full minute before the man entered.

  Simmons.

  She took a step back. Wilson nodded to his associate. Before Grady knew what had happened, the two men moved. He only got his hands up fast enough for them to brush the barbs of a stun gun flying toward him. Not fast enough to bat them away before they embedded in his shoulder and the skin of his neck. Grady had no time to brace for the voltage that surged through his body.

  They’d practiced getting hit with Tasers and stun guns regularly in training. It didn’t make it any less uncomfortable, though.

  Grady hit the ground. He bit down hard and tasted blood. He could feel Skylar on the floor beside him. “Take them to the van. Kill them, and get rid of the bodies.”

  FIVE

  His entire body ached. He felt like he was coming off that monthlong flu he’d had a couple of years ago. Grady blinked and tried to move but quickly realized it wasn’t a good idea. The ceiling of a van was above him, while the tires below rumbled against the road. No windows, just intermittent flashes of light from the front windshield. Streetlights. Cars. They were still in the city.

  He looked at his watch. The time had frozen at 8:14 a.m., probably when he’d been hit by that Taser. Only the second time he’d been unconscious today, and it was likely still early. Not his best day.

  They were tied up. Again. The only difference was that this time their hands were in front of them. Good. Anyone with training could get out of zip ties done like this.

  The morning news played on the radio in the front, but that DJ didn’t come on until after nine. Still, with DC traffic they might not be far from the White House. Skylar lay beside him, her dark lashes pressed against the top curve of her cheeks.

  She almost looked innocent. Almost. Good thing he knew now the woman was a force to be reckoned with. Strong. Determined to succeed. She’d carried on and kept up with him, even after she’d been shot. Her will to follow through and get to the truth was something.

  Then in that one second before the stun gun hit, he’d also seen a flash of what had almost looked like vulnerability. A glimpse of hurt. Fear. He’d known then that Skylar hadn’t always been the resolute agent-in-training he’d spent the morning with. She had survived something that had forged this iron core inside her.

  What was it?

  Grady leaned up to get a look at the driver. The man who’d run from the usher’s closet after Skylar had been shot, the one who had given the order to kill them. Still in his army uniform, Simmons drove the car with both hands tight on the wheel. Knuckles white, back hunched. Good, he was stressed. That meant he’d react. Maybe even make a mistake.

  There was no way Grady was going to let this guy kill Skylar. Even if they were both tied up, and he had no weapon to defend them with. He was a Secret Service agent, and she would be soon enough. That meant they were on the same team, regardless of the fact that they’d only met earlier this morning. They were fellow agents.

  She might be as strong as he was, but knowing that just made Grady all the more determined to protect her. He would hate to see the worst happen to Skylar, when she’d come this far.

  She stirred. Grady put his hand over her mouth so she didn’t give away the fact that they were both awake. Her eyes opened, and anger flashed there. She was ready to fight.

  Grady then moved to press an index finger against his lips. When she nodded, he lowered his hand from her mouth and motioned to the driver.

  “We can whisper.” He waited a second, glanced at Simmons to make sure they hadn’t been heard and said, “Are you okay?”

  Her face twisted in a scowl. It almost made him smile. She was just as determined to get out of danger as he was. But this wasn’t the time for humor. He could understand she wasn’t happy about the day’s events so far. This should have been a relatively simple exercise and it had quickly turned into something much bigger.

  Wilson had dragged them from the White House to this van. What purpose did getting rid of them serve? Getting the clock without Grady and Skylar causing problems? Wilson could be planning to plant proof they were the ones stealing this clock. Maybe they were nothing but scapegoats. Nuisances to get rid of.

  Wilson would have to work hard to prove to the Secret Service Grady had been in on it. That wouldn’t be such an easy pill for Stringer or any of the others to swallow.

  “Are you okay?”

  He shrugged. Should he be, when the driver was about to try to kill them? “Was Wilson part of your hostile team?”

  “He was in the briefing.” Skylar thought for a second, then said, “But he wasn’t supposed to be the leader. He assumed the role all by himself.” Her eyebrows drew together. “Do you think he was the man we heard talking with an English accent?”

  He nodded. “There was something about his inflections made me think he might be trying to disguise an accent.” Which meant the man wasn’t a spy. If he’d been trained, Grady would never have been able to tell.

  “And him?” Grady motioned to the driver. The man she had entered the White House with as part of a tour, who had shot at her.

  The exercise had succeeded in flagging vulnerabilities
that would take some time to unpack. Whether they could be used by real hostiles in the future was something Grady and his team would have to figure out. And that would have to be done if they survived the driver’s coming attempt to kill the both of them. He’d been trained to deal with what was present first, then attack the periphery. That meant get out of danger now so they could fight the additional threat next.

  Skylar’s hands and feet were secured as his were. Even if they could get the back door open they still wouldn’t be able to jump onto the street. He had no desire to cover his body with road rash, although that was preferable to being murdered.

  He leaned closer to Skylar. “Wilson is drawing more attention to himself by sending us away from the White House and the cover of the exercise. If we show up dead in a field somewhere, he can’t disguise that as an accident.” He shook his head, trying to figure it out. “Whatever he’s after has to be more important than the threat of having two murders pinned on him. He thinks he can get away with it.”

  Which meant Wilson knew something they didn’t.

  Skylar’s eyes were distant, as though she were also trying to figure this out. “Once we get out of here we can go back to the White House and ask him.”

  Grady felt his lips curl up in a smile. She wasn’t trying to be funny. However, her bravado made her fiercely cute. Though he figured she’d rather he thought of her as capable. Good thing he did. “Deal.”

  She might not be a full-fledged Secret Service agent yet, but all the loyalty and determination was already part of who she was. A threat had been launched against the White House. He knew Skylar was going to fight against that threat as much as she could. She was going to bring these people to justice. He could see it in every fiber of her being and knew she would make an amazing agent. Not one day in the future but now.

  From now until this was done, they would be a team. Yes, he was already part of a team. But his dissatisfaction with his job and his hobbies—and feeling like something was missing from his life—made him realize this might be just the thing he’d been looking for. Grady didn’t need a new challenge. He’d only needed a new friend.