Defense Breach

by Lisa Phillips

Grady jumped out of the ambulance. He motioned Skylar to walk a few paces away with him, then said, “The English guy is Wilson.”

  She nodded, so he continued, not really sure how she was going to take his next suggestion. “I’ll understand if you want to go home soon. Get cleaned up. The exercise is probably over by now, considering. An officer will hang out outside your hotel room—or wherever you’re staying. Just until I know for sure it’s all good.”

  “No way,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m sticking with you until we get this Wilson guy in custody.”

  Surely she hadn’t forgotten the day’s danger so far. It wasn’t even eleven in the morning yet.

  Skylar lifted her chin, determination blanketing her features. “I figure the safest place for me to be is right beside a trained Secret Service agent. That’s world-class protection right there.”

  “Sure, if Wilson hadn’t also tried to kill me.” He wasn’t going to be flattered. He wasn’t going to let her appreciation of him and the job he did go to his head. Still, he couldn’t help but be a little puffed up by what she’d said. Especially after his most recent failure. “I appreciate your faith, but once you’ve given Command your statement, we’ll be getting you into protective custody until Wilson and everyone working with him has been apprehended.”

  “So I can be at Command until then? Can I watch the exercise wrap up?” He ignored the look on her face.

  It wasn’t that he didn’t want her with him. That wasn’t it at all. The problem was Grady had a job, and Skylar wasn’t even a rookie yet. She was still in training. Her ability to function as a Secret Service agent was hampered by rules. Ones that kept all of them—and the people they protected—safe.

  “You know, the longer we stand here debating, the better the chance Wilson is going to get away with this.” She lifted her chin. “We should be going back to the White House with those agents taking him into custody.”

  “Not we. Just me. Simmons is going to the hospital first. I’ve already called it in. They’re looking for Wilson, and when I get there, I’ll make my statement. You’ll make your statement and the Secret Service will bring him in.” She wasn’t going to be racing around, gung ho, bringing down bad guys.

  She would be safe.

  He would be working.

  There were plenty of agents and cops that could protect Skylar. It didn’t have to be Grady. But the fact that she wanted it to be him definitely helped. He didn’t know what exactly had happened between them so far this morning.

  One of the Secret Service Uniformed Division officers rode with an Arlington deputy in the ambulance. The other one gave them a ride back to the White House before he headed to the hospital as well.

  “You’re just going to dump me off at Command and go risk your neck?”

  Grady turned to her. He did want to know that she was safe. As in personally assure she was safe. He might be able to work more efficiently if she was with him and he didn’t have to worry about her, but not enough that he’d give Wilson one target instead of two.

  No way.

  If Wilson was going to try again, Grady wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

  SEVEN

  Grady strode into the command center bus parked across the street on Pennsylvania Avenue, Skylar right behind him. She gasped.

  He nodded. “I know. It’s huge.”

  And the whole place was abuzz with what was happening, agents talking low into their radio headsets. Directing efforts to take back the White House from the supposed hostiles.

  “Director Tanner!” Grady called across the din. Both he and Skylar were soaking wet, and she was still dressed in her disguise clothes, as they walked to where his boss stood behind an agent at a computer. He pointed to the agent’s screen and said something, then came over.

  The director lifted his chin. “I’ve been wondering where you got to.”

  “No one saw us taken from the White House in a van?”

  Tanner flinched. “I’m still trying to figure out how they got you out. Must have been some smooth talking by that guy to get through the gate.”

  Grady agreed, considering the man had taken them out to try to kill them.

  “Heads are going to roll for that one, I can assure you.”

  Grady wasn’t sure if that was supposed to make him feel better about almost dying.

  “I heard the call from Metro PD, but I could hardly believe it. The hostiles really tried to kill you?”

  “Yes, sir.” He explained about Skylar overhearing the conversation concerning the theft of the clock and everything that happened after.

  Tanner shifted his gaze. “Doing okay, Austin?”

  Skylar lifted her chin. “Yes, sir.”

  Grady couldn’t get the image of her in the van, with water pouring in, out of his mind. To say they’d been put through the wringer today was an understatement. And yet in all of it, Skylar had remained in control and alert. He was proud of her. “She did great today. Kept her cool, helped both of us stay alive.”

  Her gaze darted to his, and she smiled.

  “Day’s not over yet,” Tanner said, then turned back to Skylar. “I’ll need you to get together with one of our agents. We need to know who this Wilson guy is.”

  “What about the agents who were tied up in the Yellow Oval Room with us?” Grady asked. “Couldn’t they ID him?”

  “They called in,” Tanner said, “but they’re still in the White House, bringing in all the hostiles. They’ll be at it for a while yet. When the dust clears and we have everyone in custody, we’ll be able to differentiate who was simply here for the exercise and who the thieves are. With your help, of course.”

  Grady nodded. He was going to do everything he could to bring those men down and keep Skylar safe. He didn’t want to relive the terror of thinking they were going to die. Not ever again.

  There was something about Skylar. A…spark, maybe? And the strength he wanted to ask her about. Definitely, they should spend some more time together.

  He wasn’t interested in a relationship, but maybe she needed a friend. Or a mentor in the Secret Service. Someone she could call on when she needed help or had a question. He could do that.

  “I’m happy to help,” Skylar told the director.

  Grady wished he could get her—and yeah, okay, him, too—some dry clothes. He was seriously uncomfortable. And dripping a mess onto the carpet. He moved from foot to foot.

  “I know you’re anxious to get back out there,” Tanner said. “But first let’s go through everything the two of you know. We need to pinpoint exactly how many of our hostiles are also thieves. And Skylar can help us ID them.”

  The director looked about as happy as Grady was about the idea of thieves posing as hostiles. If those guys seriously thought they could get away with this they would quickly realize they were wrong. The Secret Service was going to round up each one of the hostiles and make sure the would-be thieves were brought to justice.

  Then there was all this business with the clock.

  Grady could hardly believe someone wanted to steal from the White House. Weren’t there easier places to break into, easier things to steal? But he’d been shot at. There was no other reason that made sense to try to kill them than Skylar and Grady knowing too much.

  Enough to send them off in a van to their deaths.

  “There’s another problem, sir.”

  The director’s eyebrow lifted.

  Grady took a half step closer and spoke in a low voice. “I saw the main thief, the one they call Wilson, talking to a Secret Service agent.”

  “Be very careful with what you’re about to say, Agent Farrow.”

  Grady nodded. He knew the implications of fingering another agent as a traitor. Not to mention being in league with those who would breach the defenses of the White House. But right was right, and wrong was wrong. And in the balance were his life and Skylar’s. They all had to make their own choices.

  And one of their agents may have made t
he wrong one.

  “I didn’t see his face. I have no idea who it is.” He thought through his words, measuring them carefully. If he was to start everyone hunting for a mole, he could inadvertently make it so he implicated a teammate falsely. That would mean repercussions for both their careers. “Only what I saw. Wilson talking to one of us.”

  “A male agent. Or, at least, he was dressed like one of you,” Skylar said, though there was a question in her voice. “Caucasian. About five-ten, dark brown hair cut short.”

  Grady frowned. “You saw him?”

  “In the hall, and only from the back.” She shrugged. “If it’s even who you’re talking about.”

  “It could be, but I didn’t see hair color. So I can’t corroborate.”

  The director folded his arms. “So all we have is supposition? That isn’t enough to do anything. Even if Skylar could identify the person.”

  Grady sighed. “We should at least watch out, just in case.”

  “I understand you would want to bring in anyone who was working with the thieves, but bringing in the thieves themselves is our top priority. If you want to play Internal Affairs in this scenario and you find evidence, I’ll look at it.”

  Grady nodded. Had he been expecting more? Probably not, but it still stung that the director didn’t see what he did. Or he couldn’t, because Grady didn’t have solid evidence to back up his claim.

  He’d known it was flimsy.

  That wash of ice water—the realization he really didn’t have much of anything to corroborate his theory—shut off the slight he’d been dealt. He didn’t blame the director for making this call. Reason dictated it was the right one, but part of Grady didn’t like it—enough that he had no desire to someday ascend to director level. He didn’t want to be the one who had to make those calls.

  All he wanted was a simple life. He’d sworn off relationships for now, but maybe that was the pain talking. Losing his fiancée had been a blow he hadn’t seen coming. It left Grady with the peaceful dream of one day having a nice place to live. Something comfortable that didn’t look like a showplace. A good woman he loved to share it with. Paula had wanted more. She’d expected him to be a nine-to-five guy, which wasn’t what being in the Secret Service entailed. Skylar understood that. She got the life they led here.

  Or wherever they were going to post her when she finished training.

  He wanted to say they should keep in touch after she left Washington and went back to training, but wouldn’t that be weird? They’d known each other only a few hours, though it felt much longer. Did she have the same feeling about him?

  He wanted to ask her that as well, but Grady held his tongue. Because Skylar was in danger, and so was he. After all this was done and dealt with, he could talk to her about keeping in touch.

  First, he had to find the men who’d tried to kill them.

  *

  “You sure you’re okay with this?”

  His face was so soft Skylar almost wanted to ask him to stay. But what would that prove? It would be super awkward to have him sitting here in the command bus with her. Doing nothing while his people finished the exercise.

  “I’m good.” He needed to help them, didn’t he? The irrationally scared part of her didn’t want to be somewhere surrounded by people she didn’t know. Mostly Skylar tried to ignore it, using a combination of what the Bible said and her own desire not to be ruled by fear in any situation.

  He studied her for a minute, then said, “Stay here until I get back, okay?”

  Skylar nodded. “Don’t worry about me. Go do your thing. I’ll be fine.”

  Who wanted to be the one who cramped someone else’s style? He had a job to do. Skylar would be part of his world one day, but not today.

  Grady had changed in the bathroom and then left kitted out in his full agent gear. At least he hadn’t looked as though he liked the idea of leaving her all that much. She almost smiled. Maybe she should have clung to him and pretended she desperately needed him to stay so she could feel safe. Parts of that would feel nice. All the closeness. Probably some friendly hugging. She liked hugs.

  Too bad she could take care of herself.

  The dichotomy made her head spin. Kind of like being trained as a Secret Service agent, and then running away from gunmen in the White House because her life was in danger. Thinking in the van that they were going to die, then escaping. Facing down Simmons, and being saved by Niles. Why did she think that man had more of a story to him? Skylar shook her head and sipped her coffee.

  “Skylar Austin?” It was the young man who’d brought her the drink. An intern?

  “Yes.”

  “The director wants me to show you footage from the last few days, when the HVAC guys started arriving. To see if you can ID this Wilson guy or any of his friends.”

  Skylar followed him to the back of the bus, where he had a station set up with a laptop. She sat beside him and watched footage of the last few days, starting at the gate where cars came and went.

  “Everyone who checks into the White House has already been thoroughly vetted. However,” he added quickly, “we do get people who slip through the cracks. No one wants to admit they were at fault, but while we’re experts, we are also human.”

  “I like that.” Maybe she needed to think of herself in that way a little more. Skylar was forever pushing herself to do more. To be more. Testing the limits of her strength and capability, and then breaking through those barriers. One day she was going to fail. If she got the picture now, probably her failure wouldn’t sting quite so much when it happened.

  The intern grinned. “Now we get to play cat and mouse, and figure out who this guy is.” He scrolled through more footage to the arrival of a van. “When you see him, tell me. I can run the image through our facial recognition database. See if we can get a match.”

  Skylar watched the screen. Shook her head intermittently, when it wasn’t any of the gunmen she’d seen. A few of the hostiles were HVAC people, but not all of them. Had the thieves recruited all, or only some? And how big was their team? She didn’t believe it was only Wilson, Simmons and Johnson. Plus that mysterious agent—if he was even part of it.

  Still keeping her attention on the screen, she said, “So, you like working with the Secret Service?”

  “Sure, who wouldn’t? Part of my poli-sci degree includes work experience, and I’m minoring in criminal justice.”

  “Wow, busy guy.”

  He grinned. “This was a fantastic opportunity. And yeah, I’m the coffee guy, and the ‘watch these hours of footage until you want to scream’ guy—”

  She grinned back at him. It was kind of mind-numbing.

  “But I’m at the epicenter of the country here.” He motioned to the space at large. “These people have devoted their lives to protecting this nation. They don’t affect policy or laws, but without them, this whole thing we call America would just fall apart.”

  Skylar nodded. “I know. It’s part of why I decided to become a Secret Service agent myself.” She glanced around the command post. The hustle and bustle of personnel at work. There were no more than fifteen agents in the bus, but they were doing important work. They made sure the White House stayed safe.

  It was heady stuff.

  She said, “You like the people—the agents, I mean?”

  “Sure.” He shrugged. “Some of them are a little standoffish, and there are some I just plain don’t like. But most of them are cool. Like Agent Farrow.” He lifted his eyebrows like there was a secret underlying his words.

  “He does seem like a nice guy.”

  “The best. Really helped me get settled here and feel like part of the team.”

  Skylar smiled, not sure what else to say. Grady had been nice to her today. And he’d helped keep her alive. But it wasn’t more than that. The intern seemed to think something would develop between them, when Skylar couldn’t even entertain the idea. What was the point?

  The Secret Service could assign her anyw
here, and she had little choice in it. And even if she were attracted to him—because what was the point in dwelling on that either?—who could say a friendship would even survive long distance? She’d probably never even see him after today or tomorrow.

  Skylar sighed and set her elbow on the desk, her chin in her palm. The intern’s cell phone gave off a series of beeps. He looked at the screen, then jumped up. “I’ll be back in a second. Pause it if you see something.”

  Skylar nodded, not all that optimistic she was going to be much help. They might end up looking through days of footage. They didn’t even know what time that morning Wilson had arrived.

  A florist’s delivery truck pulled up on the screen. Nope.

  Nothing.

  Someone tapped her on the shoulder. When she jerked around, she saw an agent in a ball cap and a bulky windbreaker behind her.

  “Yes?”

  “Grady needs you. He said come with me.”

  “I’m not supposed to leave the bus until he gets back.”

  “That’s why he sent me. Because he needs you in the White House. Now.”

  Skylar paused the surveillance footage. “I’m really not supposed to leave.”

  The man’s eyes hardened. Was this the Secret Service agent involved with the thieves? She opened her mouth to call for help.

  He touched his weapon. It was holstered at his side, but unsnapped. “I could draw this and shoot you dead before you got a single word out. Then I would kill at least half the people on this bus before I ran out of bullets. Now get up and move.”

  Skylar’s legs threatened to buckle, but she preceded him out the back doors of the bus.

  The agent led her around the side of the building, probably toward a loading entrance of some kind. The White House was huge.

  He kept her in front, his hand to the small of her back. It should have been a nice gesture that made her feel secure. It wasn’t. Not when she could feel the pressure of the gun at her side.

  Until they reached a long concrete tunnel. This was an entrance? “Where are—”

  “Down we go.”

  EIGHT

  Skylar looked down the long concrete tunnel. Only darkness waited down there…and apparently also a rear entrance to the White House.