The rest of Alpha Team would split up to patrol the megacity, along with other field teams, special forces operatives, and agents from various federal agencies. Jamie’s job would be to help secure the White House before making any necessary field decisions on where to insert himself into the fighting.
All of the precautions—the boots on the ground, the metahumans in position, the military on standby—could be meaningless in the face of an attack guided by Stanislav’s power.
Jamie hoped they weren’t.
The front door slid open, the private elevator across the small lobby already there. Jamie reached for Kyle’s left hand and raised it to his mouth, kissing the ring there. He’d put it on Kyle after they arrived home from their mission briefing that morning. His father had wanted him to spend the day with his family and leave from their Washington, D.C. home to the State Dinner. Jamie had opted to obey the director instead.
“Make sure Liam watches your six,” Kyle said, rising up on his tiptoes to kiss Jamie softly on the mouth.
“He’s supposed to keep a low profile,” Jamie replied.
“Yeah, good luck with that. He’s SAS. Like hell will he stand on the sidelines while you run off to play hero.”
“Stay in contact with the team.”
As a sniper, Kyle was used to working alone or with a spotter. Jamie normally didn’t mind Kyle taking overwatch alone, but tonight it set his teeth on edge.
“I will. Now go make the media talk about how hot you look in your evening dress uniform rather than your shady business decisions.”
Jamie made a face, leaning down to steal one last, quick kiss. “I fucking hate the media.”
“You know, if you’d just let me shoot Dixon—”
“No,” Jamie said through a laugh as he stepped out the door.
“It doesn’t even have to be a kill shot. I can just wing him. One little graze.”
Jamie shook his head, walking backward toward the open elevator. “No shooting members of the press. That’s an order.”
Kyle leaned out the doorway to the condo, a grin on his face and laughter in his eyes. “Sir, yes, sir.”
The promise in his green eyes was enough to make Jamie’s cock twitch in his dress pants. Someday in the near future, he’d fulfill Kyle’s fantasy for the evening dress uniform. Until then, they had their duties to attend to.
The elevator doors closed on Kyle’s smiling face. Jamie let out a heavy sigh as he descended alone, wishing Kyle were with him.
Jamie stepped into the ground-floor lobby right as a call rang through his comms. He tugged up the sleeve of his uniform to check his bioware. Burwell’s ID glowed through his skin, and Jamie answered the call.
“We’re out front,” Burwell said.
“I’m almost there,” Jamie told him.
When he made it outside, Burwell had the door to the SUV already open for him. The older man nodded respectfully at Jamie. They’d reached an understanding after Boston when Burwell and others on his security detail became aware of his classified identity. The antagonism that had been between them in the beginning was long gone.
Jamie got settled in the middle seat, the synthleather creaking a little as he did so. Once Burwell was back in the front passenger seat, the driver pulled into the street. Three other Secret Service special agents were riding with him to the White House.
“Music, sir?” Burwell asked.
“Whatever you guys were listening to before is fine,” Jamie told them. He pulled out his tablet from his pocket, intent on spending the ride keeping atop any updates coming down the pipeline.
The MDF’s intelligence division hadn’t picked up any viable chatter over the last week or so on the dark web or anywhere else about an imminent attack. All attempts by the MDF and other agencies to track Declan and the Sons of Adam had come up short. The cruise missile attack in Arizona and the aerial attack over Kansas proved that Declan had the military hardware and the reach to follow through on whatever order Stanislav gave.
Jamie scrolled through his messages and the notifications that popped up from news alerts. Almost everything on the civilian side had to do with the State Dinner. Jamie grimaced as he envisioned the sort of articles that would be written about him tonight regarding his date with the First Son. He doubted any would be flattering, no matter what his father or the president hoped for.
The closer they got to the center of the nation’s capital, the worse traffic became. A State Dinner was a grand affair, a spectacle unlike anything else put on by the D.C. elite. Security was tight, as always. Normally closed to public vehicles, Pennsylvania Avenue NW had been opened to handle the arrival of all dignitaries, politicians, and those lucky enough to score an invite to the coveted event. The Secret Service had been joined by extra ranks of police officers, but their presence didn’t immediately soothe Jamie’s nerves.
As with Boston, a part of him wished tonight’s festivities had been canceled.
They were one of the earliest arrivals, and rather than exiting their vehicle out on the street as others were doing, Jamie’s driver got them through the last security checkpoint and pointed the SUV up the curved driveway to the North Portico of the White House. Jamie could see the red carpet was out, standing out sharply against the white backdrop as they pulled up.
The SUV braked to a stop and Burwell got out first to open the door for Jamie. Two Secret Service special agents tasked with guarding the First Family stood outside the entrance to the White House, along with a contingent of honor guards from across all military branches on duty for the State Dinner.
Jamie nodded a silent goodbye to Burwell before climbing the steps, the red carpet firm beneath his feet. The country’s flag, along with the United Kingdom’s, stood on either side of the entrance to the White House. The Secret Service was expecting him, and one special agent opened the door for him. Jamie stepped inside, coming to parade rest before Charles Argent. The president’s chief of staff didn’t seem harried despite the event going on.
“Captain Callahan,” Charles said.
“Mr. Argent,” Jamie replied.
“The First Son is waiting for you upstairs with his family. I’m to escort you to them.”
Jamie nodded and let him lead the way. The private rooms of the White House on the second floor felt lived in as opposed to seeming like a museum. Jamie had half a thought to wonder if his family would ever get the chance to become intimately acquainted with the space, or if that chance was forever gone. He pushed that thought aside once in the presence of the president in the living room next to the Yellow Oval Room.
Michael smiled broadly as he got up from the couch, coming forward to greet him before Jamie even finished saluting his commander-in-chief.
“Excellent timing, Jamie,” Michael said.
The president looked trim and sharp in a black tuxedo, his bow tie knotted perfectly around his throat. Jamie’s attention moved from him to Ashley, the First Lady resplendent in a dark blue, off-the-shoulder gown and a choker of sapphires. Her hair was pinned in an updo and set by way of diamond and sapphire pins.
“You look lovely, ma’am,” Jamie said.
“Why thank you,” Ashley said. “You certainly clean up well yourself, Jamie.”
Standing beside her was Gabriel, who couldn’t quite hide the interest in his eyes when he looked at Jamie, despite knowing that their time together tonight was all for show. Gabriel wore a sleekly tailored tuxedo complete with black bow tie, his dark hair immaculately styled.
He looked impossibly young to Jamie’s eyes, despite his age. The life experiences separating them were wider than the Grand Canyon, and their commonalities were few and far between. Even if his heart wasn’t promised to Kyle, Jamie doubted Gabriel would have ever meant anything to him beyond his duty. Jamie extended his hand to Gabriel in greeting, making sure his resignation at the situation didn’t show on his face.
“You clean up nice,” Gabriel said.
“Anyone in a Marine uniform cleans up
nice,” Jamie replied.
Gabriel chuckled and stepped closer, glancing at his father. Jamie didn’t follow his gaze, not wanting to give the president the wrong idea.
“Shall we?” Ashley said. “Prince Samuel and his family should be arriving soon.”
“We’ll be summoned when they arrive, dearest. Let’s have a drink first, shall we?” Michael said.
Four champagne glasses were ready on the wet bar and Jamie watched the president pour out four servings from an expensive bottle he’d bet money was a gift from his father. Jamie accepted his glass with a fake smile that would make his mother proud.
“To turning the tide,” Michael said, raising his glass. “And to keeping the White House in our party’s hands.”
Jamie echoed his words before taking a sip of the champagne. The conviction in his voice rang hollow in his ears, but he kept his opinions to himself. The party in power almost always lost the presidency after two terms. His father had the strongest chance to keep it before Jamie’s decisions derailed everything. At this rate, they’d be lucky to keep hold of the Senate.
Jamie danced through small talk with the First Family like a pro, his years gliding through elite social circles making it easy. They’d just finished their glasses of champagne when someone knocked briskly on the door before opening it. Charles stepped inside, eyes on his tablet.
“Sir, Prince Samuel and his family are due to arrive in five minutes,” Charles said.
“Excellent,” Michael said. “Shall we?”
The drive from Blair House where all guests of the president stayed during state and official business wasn’t that long. With security keeping the street clear, Jamie doubted the full five minutes would be needed.
Everyone got to their feet and Jamie kept pace with Gabriel as they followed the president through the White House to the North Portico. Jamie had been thoroughly briefed on the formality of the State Dinner and the protocols involved last night.
The formal arrival happened at the North Portico, where the official guest of honor arrived by car and was greeted by the president and their spouse amidst a backdrop of honor guards, color guards, and security. The photo op there was one splashed around the world in seconds, one which Jamie was glad he wouldn’t have to be a part of. The official welcome was done only by heads of state, and Gabriel, though a member of the First Family, wasn’t allowed to be present for that moment.
They remained out of sight as Michael and Ashley stepped outside beneath the glare of cameras to greet Prince Samuel and his family. The official photo would show the president and First Lady standing side by side with the prince and his wife.
Once they finished out there, a brief reception would happen in the Yellow Oval Room on the second floor. That reception would be attended by everyone lucky enough to be seated at the head tables to ensure everyone was properly introduced to the president and his official guests. While they enjoyed their reception, other guests would be gathering in the White House downstairs for the State Dinner.
Once the reception ended, the president would descend the Grand Staircase from the second floor to the state floor, to the time-honored sounds of the Presidential March. A formal receiving line would happen in the Blue Room before everyone would be escorted outside to the South Lawn where the dinner would occur beneath an enclosed luxury pavilion.
Normally, dinner would be held in the formal State Dining Room, which sat 120 guests. Considering the special relationship with the United Kingdom that the United States had held for centuries, a larger dinner and party were an absolute must. The only way to accommodate the number of people on the guest list was to move it outside.
The luxury portable pavilion had taken two days to construct, the massive enclosure complete with an orchestra platform, dance floor, theatrical lighting and sound system, floating chandeliers, gorgeous flower arrangements, and satellite kitchens. It offered up more space to include all tables in one area, as opposed to scattered through various White House rooms.
The protocol involved in making sure no one of any social level was slighted by mistake while ensuring everything went smoothly was a migraine waiting to happen. Jamie wasn’t even in charge of it and it made his own head hurt.
“Have you been to something like this before?” Gabriel asked as he shifted on his feet.
“Many times,” Jamie said, thinking back to all the events his parents had paraded him through over the years.
“Do you like them?”
“I’m always honored to attend when invited.”
If Jamie had learned nothing else from his parents, it was how to play the word game. Gabriel was cut from the same cloth, and he smiled knowingly at Jamie’s response, but said nothing more.
They waited in silence in the entrance hall, the honor guards on duty inside not moving a centimeter or saying a word. Jamie could feel their eyes on him, and he wondered what they thought, considering everything being said in the news about him. Many people believed he no longer deserved to wear his uniform anymore, no matter the fact that he’d earned that right years and years ago.
Once a Marine, always a Marine.
Eventually the front doors to the White House opened. Amidst a backdrop of camera flashes, the president, the First Lady, members of the Royal Family, and their entourages entered the White House.
For the first time all night, Jamie felt a real smile curve his mouth. He straightened his shoulders and snapped off a salute to the president.
“Allow me to introduce my son, Gabriel Rodriguez,” Michael said as they approached. “And as I understand it, Captain Callahan needs no introduction.”
“Of course not,” Georgia, the Countess of Wessex, said with a warm smile. “Gabriel, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Jamie, it’s so good to see you again.”
Georgia had been a spitfire of a woman in her youth, and her strong will hadn’t diminished with age. Tall and thin, with a grace to her carriage that came from years of horseback riding, the countess was a well-educated woman who’d found her Prince Charming in college and had used her royal status to become a patron of many charities.
The tiara Georgia wore glittered in the light, the sparkle there matching the twinkle in her hazel eyes when she extended her hand to Jamie.
“Countess,” Jamie said formally.
Georgia touched his arm fondly before stepping aside to let Samuel greet them. The break in protocol might have been considered a faux pas, except Samuel had been letting his wife take the lead with greeting people for decades.
Jamie turned his attention to Liam’s father and squared his shoulders, dipping his head down in a sharp, respectful nod. “Sir.”
“Very good to see you, Jamie,” Samuel said. “Gabriel, it’s a pleasure.”
“Thank you, sir,” Gabriel replied in a respectful tone.
“Allow me to introduce our son, Prince Liam.”
Liam stepped forward, offering his hand to Gabriel for a firm handshake. Unlike Jamie, he was in an elegant black tuxedo with morning tails, the jacket cut a little high in order to show off the blue sash he wore underneath but over his white dress shirt and vest. A line of stiff miniature medals and orders adorned the left side of his tuxedo jacket, with a larger order pinned over the tie of the sash near his hip.
“Nice to meet you,” Gabriel said, his eyes flicking from Liam to Jamie. “May I ask how you two know each other?”
“We’re old friends,” Liam said with an easy smile. “We’ve known each other since we were children.”
“Shall we take them up for drinks, darling?” Ashley said, touching her husband’s arm.
“Yes, of course. If you would follow us?” Michael said.
Moving everyone who’d earned a seat at the head tables up to the Yellow Oval Room took a bit of doing. But the Chief Usher, the White House Social Secretary, and the Chief of Protocol of the United States all had a white-knuckled grip on the festivities for tonight, and the transition to the second floor went smoothly.
The reception in the Yellow Oval Room was more intimate than what they’d encounter throughout the rest of the evening. Those dignitaries and officials granted the spots enjoyed wine and champagne served by White House staff. Jamie didn’t invite conversation through the hour it took for Michael to introduce Samuel, Georgia, and Liam to those gathered for the reception. Gabriel carried most of the conversation, easily taking the verbal lead.
Jamie spent most of that time preoccupied with his own thoughts, mentally running through the security plans in place for the umpteenth time, wishing he could receive updates from his team and the base on what was happening outside the White House. Silence might mean no news was good news, but Jamie would rather have his finger on the pulse of the MDF’s war room. It wouldn’t be enough to loosen the tension in his shoulders, but it might quiet the unease he felt.
Then again, maybe not.
When it was time to descend back to the state floor, the transition was accompanied by a ceremonial color guard, “Hail to the Chief” played by the Marine band, and the slow walk down the Grand Staircase. Jamie, Gabriel, and Liam entered after the heads of state. Jamie and Liam flanked Gabriel on their way to the Blue Room, the cameras never missing a single step of their journey.
Once inside the grandly decorated Blue Room for a second reception where every guest was welcome, Jamie made sure to stay by Gabriel’s side, despite his preference for standing with Liam. Gabriel was his date tonight, and he could already see the reaction from guests as Gabriel greeted people along with his parents through the receiving line. Everyone’s attention shifted from the First Family to Jamie’s presence, and he didn’t doubt they knew why he was there.
Politics were as much about words as they were about the people you knew and the people you associated with. Jamie, and by extension his father, having the unspoken support of the president and the First Family would be the top news story before the hour was up.
This is not how I wanted to spend the evening, Jamie thought to himself.
In the Requiem (Metahuman Files Book 5) Page 20