Jansen would get his day in court.
Alexei only hoped he’d get a grave soon after.
A minute later they were out of sight of the château, racing through the trees—literally, in some instances—to where Brigitte waited. Alexei knew roughly where they were heading. Orienting their position in the dark without night vision wasn’t impossible, not in a French village with lights burning bright outside the property line. Alexei led Sean to the exfil location, happy to get eyes on Brigitte.
The Chasseurs’ captain lowered her weapon, but didn’t move her finger off the trigger guard. “Étoile to Apollo, target secured. Have Viper relinquish his mind for the teleport.”
Alexei didn’t have access to comms to hear Jamie’s response, but when Brigitte waved them closer, he and Sean obeyed.
“Solidify,” Brigitte ordered.
Weight settled back in Alexei’s bones and his feet sank into the grass. He hiked Jansen’s limp body higher on his shoulders, making sure the Dutchman didn’t slide off.
“Ready,” Sean said.
Alexei’s stomach dropped somewhere near his feet during Brigitte’s teleport. His entire body seemed to stretch and snap back, getting twisted all around for an impossible moment before the French night sky was replaced with the walls of the MDF’s teleportation receiving room in Sublevel 3.
A red line cut the room in half, an invisible barrier no one ever crossed without permission to ensure a clear space for incoming teleports. Behind that line stood the director, along with Gracie and some of her medical staff. Standing to the left of Nazari was Mercedes Gaouette. The MDF’s second-strongest telepath had been held back from the field in order to continue Jansen’s psionic containment.
“Got him,” Mercedes said.
Alexei put Jansen down by the expedient way of letting the Dutchman go so he slipped off his shoulders and fell to the floor.
“All yours,” Alexei said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the unconscious man.
He and Sean got clear of the active teleport area, leaving Gracie’s people the task of fetching Jansen and hauling his ass out of there.
“I’ll return with the others, Director Nazari,” Brigitte said.
“Your assistance is, as always, very much appreciated, Étoile,” Nazari said.
She disappeared, air rushing into the void she left behind with a loud crack. Now that they were back on base and no longer under fire, Alexei let himself feel the aches in his body from the telekinetic attack. Gracie, her eyes sharper than even Kyle’s when it came to her patients, noticed the stiff way he moved when he lifted a hand to pull off his tactical goggles and air-filtration mask.
“You’re heading to Medical,” Gracie said in a voice Alexei knew better than to protest, but he still tried.
“After team gets back,” Alexei countered.
Gracie, proving that she knew when to give ground to her patients in special circumstances, only nodded. Alpha Team never liked being separated, and Alexei would wait as long as it took for his brother and everyone else to return.
8
Teach Me Not to Dream
“He’s still not talking?” Jamie asked.
“He asked for a lawyer.” Nazari seemed amused by that request. “We’re not giving him one.”
Kyle half-wondered how long it would take for any of Jansen’s contemporaries to cry foul and get a writ of habeus corpus on his behalf. That would really only happen if Jansen had anyone looking out for him, and considering the MDF had captured the bastard, it was safe to say Stanislav had cut his ties with the Dutchman. Which meant no outside force would be working to secure Jansen’s release—right now, at least. No telling what the future would bring.
“Does that mean we aren’t going forward with the emergency motion to access his memories?” Katie wanted to know.
“We’re holding him under Title 18 on an emergency basis at the moment. Jansen will tell us what we want to know, with or without an order from the court.”
That decision was a legal gray area Kyle didn’t dwell on for very long. He doubted the United Kingdom would throw a fit at their treatment of Jansen, and the Netherlands liked to pretend Jansen wasn’t one of theirs. A token resistance to their methods might crop up, but Jansen’s background didn’t make him a sympathetic character.
Kyle shifted on his feet where he and the rest of Alpha Team stood in the observation room. Beyond the foot-thick plas-glass window was a Faraday containment cell built specifically to contain metahumans with psionic powers.
Jansen still wore a physical Faraday cage on his head, the neural node connection points embedded in his skin. Nanite-based bioware burrowed into his brain to connect to the central nervous system and disrupt his empathic power. The Faraday cage could disrupt all known powers, though Sean’s type of phase power was the only one on record that could break through the disruption.
Kyle stepped closer to the window, peering into the containment room where Jansen sat on a metal bunk, hands cuffed behind his back. The Dutchman looked far less put together than he had in their past interactions.
Gracie had seen to his head wound, using her power to accelerate another person’s ability to heal to ensure Jansen was clearheaded to answer questions. Jansen’s outfit was wrinkled and torn, a far cry from the on-trend outfits he’d worn in the clubs he owned. The tense expression on his face was one tinged with defiance, but Jansen didn’t strike Kyle as the kind of guy to stand on his morals, because he had none. Jansen sold his loyalty to the highest bidder, and with Stanislav having discarded him, he would most likely try to turn the situation to his advantage.
The fact that Jansen was an empath was the reason all interactions would be overseen by MDF telepaths. Katie and Mercedes were the MDF’s safety net, and both women would be tasked with keeping their people safe from psionic interference in the longshot event the Faraday cages failed. With Stanislav and his precognitive power in the mix, the MDF wasn’t taking any chances.
“I know you’re out there,” Jansen said loudly, shifting on the metal bunk. His accent—more English than Dutch after years growing up in boarding schools and living in London—put odd stresses on his words, but Kyle thought he sounded annoyed. “You can’t keep me locked up like this. I have rights!”
“It’s cute that he thinks so,” Annabelle drawled.
A couple of the team members chuckled, but Kyle noticed Jamie didn’t share the humor. Jamie’s attention was focused squarely on Jansen.
Jamie crossed his arms over his chest, the material of his suit jacket pulling tightly over his broad shoulders. None of them were in uniform at the moment, having reverted to civilian clothes after returning from the mission last night.
“I’d like to talk to him, sir,” Jamie said.
“His interrogation isn’t your job, Callahan,” Nazari replied.
“We need to find out what he knows about the Pavluhkins and any upcoming attacks.”
“And we will, but that isn’t your concern. I understand you want answers to help clear the cloud of guilt hovering over your family, but Jansen and what he may or may not know isn’t your magical answer to that problem.”
Jamie turned to stare at the director, expression devoid of all emotion, as was his voice. “We can’t afford to wait, sir.”
“I’m aware of what is at stake, but we will handle Jansen’s interrogation and you will be kept apprised of the situation. Ovechkina will remain on base until we get what we need from Jansen and prep him for transport to USP Florence.”
The United States Penitentiary, Administrative Maximum Facility was a supermax prison located in Colorado. It existed beneath a small biodome, the only habitable place in a hundred-mile range due to climate change. Called the Alcatraz of the Rockies, USP Florence was overseen by the Florence Federal Correctional Complex. In the past, it had been designated a male-only supermax prison, but when it was chosen as the prison to house criminal metahumans decades ago, it became mixed-gendered and had undergone a massi
ve rebuild.
An extra wing had been built into the existing complex, extending deep underground. The new structure had been designed with metahuman powers in mind, and all technological efforts to keep them in check had been poured into its foundation. The reinforced solitary cells and twenty-four hour observation there were mind-breaking.
Kyle hoped the fucker never saw the light of day again.
“You’re dismissed,” Nazari said. “We’re still in a holding pattern, but hopefully that will break soon.”
If it did, it would be because Jansen’s mind broke first.
Everyone but Katie exited the observation room. With nothing to do but hurry up and wait, Kyle caught Jamie’s eye and arched an eyebrow in a silent question. While Nazari had ordered them all off base, it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for Jamie to stick around.
“I need to go home and deal with some campaign issues,” Jamie said.
Kyle nodded. “All right.”
There was no question that Kyle would follow him home. The apartment Kyle used to share with his brother had stood empty for months. Jamie’s condo was home now, and always would be. So when everyone left the main building for their cars, Kyle climbed into Jamie’s Bentley and the two of them drove home.
The silence in the car wasn’t exactly comfortable, but Kyle knew the frustrated anger Jamie felt wasn’t directed at him. Jamie needed to work through whatever was in his head, but Kyle had lived with the man for almost two years. He knew the signs of Jamie’s rising temper—almost always leashed with considerable control—and knew his lover wouldn’t be able to fully focus until he released some of his tension.
Kyle was exceptionally adept at helping out that way these days.
Jamie parked his car in the reserved spot when they arrived home, locking it behind them as they headed for the elevator. Jamie had a look on his face that said he was mentally reviewing the situation at hand and sorting through the to-do list that seemed never-ending when it came to his family’s needs.
Once they were in the condo, Jamie headed for his office, the only room that was strictly his. Kyle had no use for one. In the event he needed to do paperwork, he did it on the couch out front with the television on. Jamie had to manage more than just the team, and he focused better at a desk when doing administrative work.
An antique wooden desk drew the eye once in the office. It was matched in color by the wooden paneling and built-in shelves that lined the walls on either side, filled with holopics, decorative sculptures, and some of the military achievements Jamie had accrued over his years of service. Directly behind the comfortable, made-to-measure leather chair was a recessed wall where an expensive, original, painted artwork of a ship at sea in rough waters hung.
The office was one of the condo’s interior rooms, located in the center of the home rather than on the perimeter with windows. The lights in the room mimicked natural daylight well enough, and they brightened considerably by the attending computer when Jamie walked inside.
Kyle followed after him, not bothered at all by the faintly irritated look Jamie threw him. Kyle just calmly stripped out of his T-shirt, tossing it onto one of the nearby chairs set up in the corner around a small round table.
“I need to work,” Jamie said flatly.
“I know.” Kyle stepped closer and reached for Jamie’s tie, loosening the knot, but not undoing it. Kyle slipped the loop over Jamie’s head and pressed the dark blue silk into his hand. “But you’re in a shitty mood, and that’s not going to help you concentrate.”
“And you think you can help?”
Kyle let Jamie’s annoyance slide off of him like water, calmly meeting Jamie’s gaze. “I know I can, sir.”
Jamie’s fingers clenched around the tie, ruining the crisp line of it. “Go get your ring.”
Kyle tipped his head in silent acknowledgment of the order and left the office for the bedroom. His engagement ring was kept in a nondescript, biolocked jewelry box on top of their dresser. Kyle took off his shoes and socks, then his jeans and underwear, before grabbing the ring box off the dresser and carrying it with him back to the office.
Jamie had taken off his suit jacket and hung it over the chair in the corner. He stood in the middle of the office, hands on his hips and tie dangling from his fingers as he scowled at the floor, not enjoying the conversation he was in the middle of. Kyle didn’t see an uplink, so he figured it was over Jamie’s personal comms on a private line.
“I’ll handle it, Father. This isn’t something you have clearance for,” Jamie said.
Kyle stepped in front of him, forcing Jamie’s attention back on him. Those blue eyes blinked at him, the annoyance there bleeding out as Jamie slowly let his gaze drift down Kyle’s naked body. The air in the condo was on the cooler side to compensate for the muggy spring heat, and it left Kyle’s skin a little chilled. The desire rapidly filling Jamie’s blue eyes went a long way toward warming him.
“I’m not going to argue with you, Father. You’ll be updated when the director deems it necessary. Goodbye.”
Kyle assumed that conversation was over, and he lifted the ring box so Jamie could see it. “I’m feeling a little naked. You should fix that.”
“I don’t think I told you to take off your clothes,” Jamie said as he took the ring box from him.
“Just anticipating your orders, like any good NCO would.”
“So helpful.”
Kyle watched as Jamie pressed his thumb to the biolock sensor and unlocked the ring box. The lid flipped open, revealing the platinum band with its emerald-cut diamond in an east-west tension setting. The brilliance of the diamond always drew Kyle’s eye, the sleek design simple and perfect, a physical representation of Jamie’s love and want and ownership of Kyle’s heart.
Jamie’s fingers were warm when he took Kyle’s left hand in his and slid the ring onto his finger. The moment the cool metal settled into place, Kyle’s entire body relaxed. The engagement ring’s weight was negligible, but it felt like an anchor keeping him safe in the storm.
Jamie looped his tie over Kyle’s neck, slowly sliding the knot into place until it was snug against his throat. Jamie never let go of the tie, tugging on it lightly as he led Kyle around his desk.
“I have some reports to read and I’m expecting an important call within the next hour or so,” Jamie said.
He sat down in his desk chair and pushed it backward a little, making room. Kyle watched as he spread his legs wide, gesturing pointedly at the space between them and the desk.
“Kneel.”
Kyle did as ordered, the tie a leash Jamie never let go of. He stepped between Jamie and the desk and sank to his knees on the hardwood floor. Kyle licked his lips in anticipation, not bothering to hide the shiver that ran through his body. Caged in by the desk behind him and Jamie’s powerful body, held in place by words and silk, Kyle wanted to be nowhere else.
He looked up the length of Jamie’s body to meet that piercing, blue-eyed gaze, noticing how relaxed Jamie looked now compared to even a minute ago. This was what Kyle lived for: giving himself over to Jamie so his lover could find his balance again in the utter control he wielded over Kyle at moments like this.
Jamie’s fingers were warm when they stroked Kyle’s cheek before curling over his chin, holding him still and helping him focus. “Undo my pants.”
Kyle reached for Jamie’s belt, taking his time by sliding his hands up those strong thighs. He unbuckled Jamie’s belt and pulled it free of the loops. Jamie took it from him and dropped it off to the side on the floor. Kyle tugged the shirttails free and undid a couple of bottom buttons to open the shirt more and get it out of the way. He undid the button on Jamie’s pants and pulled down the zipper, nimble fingers working Jamie’s cock free from his underwear.
The elastic waistband slipped behind Jamie’s balls, putting his long, thick cock on display. Jamie wasn’t hard yet, and Kyle was all for getting him there, but when he leaned forward, Jamie pulled on the tie, holding him bac
k.
Kyle swallowed against the pressure around his throat, eyes flickering up to Jamie’s face. “Don’t you want my mouth?”
Jamie smiled, slipping his thumb between Kyle’s lips to stroke his tongue. Kyle gently bit down before sucking on it.
“I always want your mouth, but I have to work,” Jamie reminded him. “Come here.”
Jamie rotated his wrist, wrapping the tie around his hand and pulling at it to guide Kyle forward. Kyle’s shoulders pressed against Jamie’s thighs as he dipped his head, mouth opening in anticipation. The tip of Jamie’s cock touched his tongue, sliding over it to fill his mouth. Kyle eagerly swallowed him down to the root, Jamie’s groan a near-silent sound that Kyle felt more than heard.
When he tried to pull back, more than ready to suck Jamie off, Jamie gripped him by the hair and held him there. Kyle whimpered, the sound muffled by the cock stuffed down his throat. Jamie stroked his hand through Kyle’s hair a couple of times before getting a good grip.
“Look at me.” Kyle stared up at Jamie through his lashes, swallowing a little around the cock in his mouth. Jamie hissed a little, the fingers in his hair tightening. “Hands behind your back.”
Kyle let go of Jamie’s calves and put his hands behind his back, fingers wrapping around his wrists. The motion pulled his shoulders back a little, and he shifted his weight on his knees. The floor beneath him wasn’t comfortable, but he didn’t mind the unyielding hardness.
Jamie pulled Kyle off his cock, just far enough that he was no longer choking on it. The thick weight of Jamie’s cock rested on his tongue, the tip pressing against the back of his throat. Holding Jamie like this was always so intimate.
“I want you to stay just like this,” Jamie said, looking down at him with eyes darkened by lust. “On your knees, with my cock in your mouth, keeping me warm while I work.”
In the Requiem (Metahuman Files Book 5) Page 12