Gabriel excused himself after the receiving line finished and some of the guests mingled while others slowly filtered out to be escorted to the South Lawn. Jamie slipped through the crowd, intent on getting another drink. He spotted a server with two wine glasses still on her tray and went to grab one. As he reached for one of the glasses, the other was taken by a man Jamie knew wasn’t on the guest list, because he’d reviewed the final names with the director just that morning.
“Good evening, Captain Callahan,” CIA Deputy Director Carter Bennett said in a mild voice.
For one split second, Jamie thought about breaking the man’s neck.
Then reality overtook his daydream, and Jamie readied himself for a war of words.
“Deputy Director Bennett,” Jamie said as the server walked away. “Were you invited?”
“In a matter of speaking.”
Bennett took a sip of his wine, his brown eyes never leaving Jamie’s face. The older man was shorter than Jamie, his salt-and-pepper hair neatly trimmed on the sides and just a little longer up top. At fifty-four, Bennett still cut a trim figure in his black suit, the style less formal than everyone else’s tuxedos. A quick scan of his person told Jamie he wasn’t obviously armed, but in a situation like this, that didn’t mean anything.
Bennett was married, the father of two children, and had dedicated his life to the CIA. Jamie wondered, idly, at what point in the other man’s years of service he was turned by the enemy, what his price was to betray his country.
Because everyone had a price, whether they knew it or not.
Jamie wished he could record their conversation, but the electronic jammers embedded in the White House walls made that impossible. He’d remember the conversation though, and memories were valid evidence in the courts now if entered through a Telepathy Affidavit.
Viper, Jamie called out at the edge of his mind.
I’m here, Katie immediately answered. I have Echo on standby if we need to evacuate the president. I’m relaying everything to the director as well.
Tessa Hahn, code named Echo, was part of Gamma Team, a two-person field team on duty in Washington, D.C. tonight. Tessa’s power was teleportation, but she could only teleport into places she’d seen before with her own eyes or through someone else’s by way of telepathy. The Blue Room wavered at the edges of Jamie’s vision as Katie took in the area and telepathically shared it with Tessa.
“I saw the guest list. You don’t have a seat at the table,” Jamie told Bennett.
“And whose fault is that?” Bennett asked.
Jamie arched an eyebrow. “Certainly not mine.”
“Not yours, no, but someone in your vicinity can certainly take the blame.”
Jamie took a sip of his wine, refusing to give in to his anger at those words. He kept his grip on the glass light and easy; one wrong bit of pressure and the glass would shatter.
Someone could mean anyone, but only three people on his team had ever worked for the CIA in some capacity. Sean had spent over a decade with them and had the strongest connection to the United States’ premier intelligence agency. Kyle and Alexei had run black-ops, off-the-books missions with the CIA through Strike Force. Their connection was through intermediaries, but one of those intermediaries had been a shape-shifting metahuman. When the CIA had attempted an internal investigation on the matter of Special Agent Cora Everly years ago, Bennett had moved to quash it.
Bennett had gone out of his way over the years to save his own ass and his bottom line at the expense of people Jamie considered his responsibility in all the ways that mattered. Bennett was pulling strings in the government to keep all eyes looking the other way while he tried to slip out of the fucking mess he’d made of too many lives.
Just like Stanislav.
The GRU was no longer a fan of the Pavluhkins, but Jamie doubted even the Kremlin could do anything about the Pavluhkins and the Presnenskaya Bratva while Stanislav’s precognition was still in play.
But the MDF could hopefully cut away the rot inside the CIA.
If only Jamie could start now.
“I trust the people I’ve got watching my back,” Jamie said, pitching his voice low so that only Bennett could hear him. He kept his expression easy and neutral, not giving anything away.
“We all have people we trust to get the job done.” Bennett lifted his wine glass and tilted it in Jamie’s direction. “I hope you enjoy your evening, Captain Callahan.”
Every instinct Jamie had screamed at him to not let the other man walk away. As much as Jamie wanted to grab Bennett by the throat and drag him into custody, he couldn’t. Not here in the middle of a State Dinner.
And Bennett knew that.
Status? Jamie asked through the telepathic links tying him to his team.
Their voices echoed through his mind as he watched Bennett walk out of the Blue Room, every last member of his team calling in. Hearing their mental voices didn’t ease the tension winding through his body.
“You have a bit of the old-fashioned murder-eyes going on,” Liam murmured as he sidled up to Jamie. “Might want to put them away.”
Jamie blinked, having to unclench his teeth in order to speak. “And if I don’t?”
“You know I’d back you, Jamie, truly I would. But we’d end up with blood on our clothes and my mother would despair of me showing up to dinner an utter mess. I’d never hear the end of it from Gran.”
“Wouldn’t want that,” Jamie muttered as he turned to face Liam.
Liam was looking at the giddy crowd of people that had swallowed up Bennett. “Who was he?”
“A problem.”
“Ah. One of those.” Liam’s gaze slid Jamie’s way. “Your date is looking for you.”
“He’s not my date.”
“Needs must, and all that bollocks, my friend.”
They shared a split second, commiserating glance before parting ways, with Liam off to be introduced to yet another Washington elite social-networker and Jamie back to Gabriel’s side. The president’s son didn’t seem to have missed him, seeing as how he was chatting it up with one of the A-list movie stars invited to tonight’s dinner.
The actress did a full-body scan on Jamie and didn’t look ashamed about her actions. Jamie fixed a polite smile on his face and waited Gabriel out, feeling like he wanted to crawl out of his skin, like he had some place to be that wasn’t here.
The crowd shifted around them and Jamie caught sight of his parents and sister talking with Sir Philip Jones, the British Ambassador to the United States. When Richard looked up, Jamie caught his father’s eye. After a moment, Richard tipped his head in Jamie’s direction, a silent acknowledgment of his presence as the dutiful son.
You ever think about what your life would be like if you left the Marines when your father first asked you to? Katie asked quietly into his mind.
Sometimes, Jamie replied.
He knew if he had, his life would have ended up like the ones in this room: a life of luxury and politics, never getting his hands dirty or sullying the family name as he’d done over the past couple of years. A life without Katie, without his team, without his convictions.
Without Kyle.
Jamie looked away from his father. But it’s not one I’d ever want to experience.
Oorah, was Katie’s response before slipping out of his mind.
A couple of minutes later people started leaving the Blue Room, getting escorted by White House staff to the large covered pavilion on the South Lawn for the dinner part of the event. Jamie stayed with Gabriel for the transition outside, only half-listening to the conversations going on around him.
It took time for everyone to feed into the long entrance tunnel manned by US Marines in evening dress on duty as ushers and attendants to the guests. The walls of the luxury pavilion were see-through while the peaked roof was draped in soft white fabric.
Names hovered in the air over each place setting on every round table they passed, courtesy of the tech embedded in every c
enterpiece. The two head tables—one with the president and the countess, another with the First Lady and Prince Samuel—were the most coveted seats. Gabriel would be heading up his own table, and Jamie was glad to see Liam’s name amongst the men and women assigned to dine with them.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Liam said with a wink when he arrived.
He was seated next to Gabriel instead of Jamie, but Gabriel gestured for Jamie to swap spots. “I’m sure you’ll want to catch up with each other.”
“Thank you,” Jamie said, taking him up on the offer.
They got settled as everyone else slowly found their seats. Conversation and laughter created a buzz of white noise that wasn’t quite drowned out by the classical music being played by the Marines in a string quartet. Jamie scanned the room, taking mental note of those he recognized.
The vice president wasn’t present tonight, though if Jamie’s father hadn’t been invited, he probably would be. They were both vying for the Republican nomination, and while the president was publicly rooting for his right-hand man, there was no doubt Michael would prefer Richard winning the race. The vice president wasn’t as charismatic as Richard or Michael, and it showed in his poll numbers. The only reason he ranked higher in the polls than Richard right now was because of the investigation.
“Any news?” Liam casually asked.
Jamie didn’t have to wonder what Liam meant by that question. Viper, link Knight.
The megacity’s facial recognition program hasn’t tagged anyone on the streets, Katie informed them both.
Do you think they’ll come in using stealth? Liam asked.
That’s a high possibility we’re hoping to counter, Jamie replied. We have the Air Force on standby.
Declan had to have a cache of stolen weaponry and ordnance from his time owning and operating North Star International. The Joint Chiefs had ordered a review on use of private military companies in active theaters after last summer, and the discrepancies that had come up in the audits were troubling. Congress wanted an overhaul, but bureaucracy was a lumbering behemoth of slow-moving fixes.
How many agencies are handling defense?
MDF, FBI, and the CIA. Military is on standby.
Liam raised an eyebrow at Jamie. CIA?
We couldn’t cut them out without raising more suspicions. The investigation into them is ongoing and still sealed.
Well, fuck.
General consensus, Katie agreed. We—
Her mental voice abruptly cut out, making Jamie go tense in his seat. Viper?
She came back with a roar in his mind that was very nearly drowned out by the explosive boom that echoed through the night air.
We need you, Apollo, she said.
Jamie and Liam stood up at the same time. The Secret Service was already moving into position, swarming the members of the First Family and their high-profile guests. Gabriel was literally lifted out of his seat and hauled away, a frightened look on his face, while the two head tables became impossible to see through a screen of Secret Service special agents.
Three of them came to haul Liam away, actually putting their hands on him, which he forcefully shook off.
“No,” Liam snapped, shoving them away. “I’m staying.”
“Liam—” Jamie started.
Liam pointed a finger at him, a scowl on his face. “If you think I’m letting you go out there alone you are off your bloody head.”
The heavy whine of an energy shield rising over the White House made Jamie’s heart beat faster. The shine of it glowed even through the fabric-draped ceiling of the luxury pavilion’s roof.
“Fuck. They’ll take the president to the bunker underneath the White House, but we need to get out there,” Jamie said.
“Liam!”
The frantic shout came from Liam’s mother, who had stood her ground with Samuel against the impatient needs of the Secret Service. Liam turned around to face his parents, expression twisting.
“Mother,” Liam said, hands clenching into fists. “I can’t stand by and do nothing.”
Georgia’s eyes were wide and fearful as Samuel settled a hand on his wife’s shoulder. Samuel looked at his son with quiet understanding and fear in his own eyes.
“Go,” Samuel said. “Do whatever you have to do.”
Liam nodded sharply before shoving his way through the cluster of Secret Service special agents who didn’t know what was going on. Jamie went after him, jerking his head in the direction of where the First Family had been taken. Still other special agents remained behind to try to calm the crowd of dinner guests who were getting increasingly panicked and fearful as the sound of more explosions echoed through the air.
“I’ll get us through the crowd,” Jamie said.
“On your six,” Liam grunted.
Jamie took point, using his enhanced strength to push his way through the throng of people between them and the exit. If people fell to the ground from his shoves, he never noticed and wouldn’t have cared if he had. Jamie only had one destination in mind and that was out.
“Mr. President!” Jamie shouted as he and Liam exited the luxury pavilion seconds later.
“Wait, goddamn you! I’m ordering you to wait!” he heard Michael yell.
The First Family was already halfway to the White House, swarmed by the Secret Service. They weren’t listening to the president’s order, but one man in the midst of that group saw Jamie coming.
“Sir! What do you do you need?” Burwell yelled at Jamie.
“Direct access to the street. Can you drop the energy shield?” Jamie said as he and Liam jogged closer.
“We are not dropping the energy shield!” someone snarled.
“Oh yes, you fucking will. I am making that a direct order,” Michael replied harshly as he pushed his way through the group of Secret Service special agents reluctant to let him out of their sight.
“Mr. President—”
“I understand your number one priority right now is me and my family, but my priority is and always will be this country.” Michael finally freed himself of the main crowd of protection, though half a dozen special agents moved to form a protective circle around the three of them as he came to a stop in front of Jamie. “The shield will be lowered, Apollo. You and Alpha Team do whatever you have to in order to stop this attack. I will contact Director Nazari and advise him of the same order.”
Jamie was only peripherally aware of the wide-eyed looks directed his way by the surrounding Secret Service special agents. Jamie snapped off a sharp salute to the president, aware of Liam doing the same.
“At your command, sir,” Jamie replied gravely.
Michael gestured at the head of his security detail. “Arm them and drop the shield.”
This time there was no protest.
Jamie and Liam took the direct route to get to the north end of the White House—up the curved outside stairs and straight through the entrance hall to the North Portico. Two Secret Service special agents struggled to keep up, along with Burwell, carrying with them the president’s orders. Once out front, Jamie noticed that the color guard and honor guard of Marines and other military branch members had quit their posts and taken up new ones along the perimeter of the grounds, all of them now armed.
A special agent running across the grounds to intercept them shouted as they came to a halt at the end of the drive. Jamie only paid attention to him because of the weapons and gear he carried.
The Secret Service was equipped with an armament onsite that couldn’t replace his combat uniform, but the military-grade tactical vests and carbines the man carried were still better than nothing on such short notice. If Jamie could make it to his own field gear that Katie had brought with her, then he would, but he doubted that would happen.
Jamie and Liam yanked off their evening dress jackets and tossed them to the ground before pulling on the tactical vests. They checked their borrowed weapons and accepted the extra magazines with silent nods.
“Lower the sh
ield,” Burwell ordered over his comms as every agent, Marine, and soldier standing guard on the perimeter raised their weapons in defense, ready to fire.
For a split second, nothing happened. Then the curved energy dome flickered and disappeared, the night sky replacing the soft glow of technology. Jamie and Liam crossed the barrier line together, weapons in hand, ready to fight. Seconds later, the energy shield reformed with an electric whine that made the hairs on the back of Jamie’s neck stand on end.
Three strides later, Jamie felt a shift in his body, deep in a way he’d only felt a handful of times since being turned into a metahuman. It left him reeling for a second or two, stomach lurching as the strength in his body he’d grown so used to diminished to a level that had been normal before Libya.
Before he’d been turned into a metahuman.
“Be advised,” Jamie said over his encrypted comms. “The Sons of Adam have fielded Blanchett and her nullification power. We need to know her reach.”
“Wonderful. I always love a bit of a challenge,” Liam said offhandedly.
“And someone link Knight to Alpha Team’s comms channel.”
“Yes, sir,” a supervising agent back at base replied.
“Ready?” Jamie said.
Liam smiled grimly. “Just like old times with the SAS. We’ll make do.”
With or without powers, they would hold that line.
They were halfway to the checkpoint the National Guard had set up at the intersection of Pennsylvania Avenue NW and Fifteenth Street NW when Katie’s voice came over the comms. The words she spoke effectively ripped the world out from beneath Jamie’s feet.
“I’ve lost mental contact with Reaper,” Katie reported.
Jamie’s breath froze in his lungs. Only Liam’s firm grip kept him from crashing to his knees.
“What?” came Alexei’s snarled reply.
“Someone is blocking mental communication with him. They have a telepath on the field.”
Liam stared grimly at Jamie, the worry in his eyes nearly flaying Jamie down to the bone.
“Jamie—” Liam began, off comms.
Jamie shook his head hard, vision swimming.
“Base, locate Reaper,” Jamie demanded, keeping every shred of emotion out of his voice through sheer will alone.
In the Requiem (Metahuman Files Book 5) Page 21