Donovan was sticking close to home because Gracie wasn’t leaving the MDF anytime soon. And where Gracie went, Donovan followed. Like Katie, he would probably find himself running some training courses for MDF agents, though he wouldn’t go into the field. He’d been talking a lot recently about youth outreach and sports camp for disadvantaged kids in the D.C. area as well. If he started one up, Jamie was prepared to bankroll it.
The United States Navy had reached out to the MDF requesting help in setting up some training scenarios for metahuman threats their Navy SEALs might encounter in the field. Madison had volunteered and offered up her expertise. She was set to travel to the Naval Amphibious Base Coronado near San Diego, California at the beginning of summer. When her time at the base was finished, she’d head up to Los Angeles for a few months to spend time with her family and take a screenwriting course or two for fun out of UCLA.
Trevor was thinking about applying to medical school through an accelerated course, which Jamie had promised he would pay for. Trevor had spent years in the field as a medic and was looking to expand his ability to help people. While the traditional route of application submission meant he only had a narrow window left before it closed in June to be considered, Jamie figured most medical schools would accept his application if it came in late. It meant losing Trevor to school for a few years if he chose to apply, and Jamie hoped Trevor did, because he wanted his team happy.
As for Jamie, he and Kyle were going to spend time together and with their families around helping out on his father’s campaign. When the election was over—whether Richard won the presidency or not—they would start planning their wedding. Until then, Jamie and Kyle were enjoying their relationship out in the open.
The letter of reprimand in Jamie’s file was still there, but it wasn’t the entire reason for their leaving the MDF, just the spark that lit the flames. They’d proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that he and Kyle could work together on the same team just fine. The director had assured him that whenever—if ever—they decided to return to active duty full-time, they wouldn’t be separated.
Jamie figured that decision was based on the fact none of them would return if the team was split up. Like Katie had told him nearly two years ago, the MDF didn’t want to lose the metahumans on their roster. If keeping Jamie and Kyle and the rest of their team together was what would eventually bring them back into the fold, then the MDF would agree to it.
For now, they were taking a much-needed break. Jamie was glad to see that the director, for all the disagreements they might have some days, was still firmly in their corner. Jamie respected him and always would. Nazari’s support regarding how they wanted to live their lives was something Jamie wouldn’t forget.
Their convoy of SUVs drove through the streets and entered the central zone of the megacity. The security checkpoints had diminished, but the area containing the National Mall and other government buildings had been unilaterally turned into a pedestrian-only zone. Unless someone was a government employee with an approved security parking permit, or someone whose residence was located within the newly drawn restricted zone, then vehicles weren’t allowed. Aerial traffic had already been banned in that area earlier in the century and the latest order expanded on it.
The change had happened to compensate for the fact the Sons of Adam had managed to smuggle military-grade weapons into the megacity with Declan’s help. Declan had been ex-Special Forces and capable of successful infiltration anywhere in the world. Smuggling a cruise missile launcher into the nation’s capital was a challenge he had successfully met.
Jamie was glad Declan was dead, even if the manner of his death complicated Jamie’s standing in the public eye. He hadn’t been thinking about public opinion when he’d executed Declan on a live news stream—just that he’d wanted the fucker dead. Overall, Jamie was satisfied with the outcome, even if the brass would’ve preferred he’d stayed his hand.
Considering the enormous mental anguish Jamie had been under during the attack after shooting Kyle, the MDF hadn’t come down nearly as hard as the agency could have regarding his actions with Declan. In the end, the attack was countered and neutralized. That was all that mattered to the powers that be.
“I’m not closing the door on the MDF,” Jamie finally said. “None of us are. If I’d still been in the Marines, I’d have stayed for the full twenty.”
Nazari nodded. “I’m not questioning your dedication, Callahan. That has never been in doubt. I’m merely saying you might find civilian life is exactly what you’ve been missing. There’s no shame in never coming back.”
Jamie knew that, but he also knew that with his team stepping down, it left a huge hole in the MDF’s roster. They’d been the heavy hitters, the team the MDF sent out to deal with the deadlier threats. That wasn’t to say none of the other field teams could get the job done; Jamie just knew they’d be stretched thin for a while.
Splice had a high kill rate and always would. No cure existed, no vaccine had been found to counter the reactions the chemical produced in the human body. You either died or you didn’t when exposed to Splice. Most died, though Jamie knew of at least three people who’d survived the Splice chemical bombs that had been detonated during the attack.
Those three new metahumans were currently ensconced at the MDF, still struggling with the transformation of their lives and bodies. But all three had refused the option to walk away from the fight and were committing themselves to the MDF.
The hole Jamie’s team was leaving behind would be difficult to fill, but it would be filled.
“We’ll see,” Jamie said.
“What’s done is done. Right now, let’s focus on one problem at a time.”
The one their convoy of SUVs was driving toward was yet another Congressional hearing behind closed doors. This time, however, Jamie knew it would go differently, not least because of the declassification of his and his team’s identities.
All of that meant the media was out in force when the SUVs pulled up in front of the Hart Senate Office Building. The flash of cameras and the buzz of hovering drone cameras could be seen and heard even with the vehicle doors shut.
“Ready?” Nazari asked as his aide in the front seat got out first.
“Always, sir,” Jamie replied.
The aide opened the side passenger door for Nazari and the director climbed out amidst a hail of questions from reporters. Capitol police were on hand to hold back the press, the sidewalk absolutely full and the closest lane in the street barricaded off to provide extra room. There were as many international press groups as domestic in the crowd, all vying to get the perfect shot, hoping one of their shouted questions would be the one that got an answer.
Down the line of SUVs, the entirety of Jamie’s team climbed out. Since this was official MDF business and no longer hidden beneath the guise of a civilian matter, everyone was in uniform if they had one—Sean was the only one in a suit—to help drive the point home that they’d acted on orders by the United States government and not out of personal desire or greed.
Katie and Kyle approached, with the rest of the team following right behind. Joining them were a handful of high-ranking MDF agents and several JAG representatives. Deputy Director Stirling had remained behind on base. Missing was the cadre of Secret Service special agents who’d joined them last month for the first hearing, but Jamie didn’t mind their absence.
“Let’s go,” Nazari ordered, leading the way.
Jamie and the others fell into line after him, marching forward. The flash of cameras seemed brighter than the sun at times as they walked toward the entrance. The press didn’t follow them inside, but some were waiting for them when they arrived in Room 306 again.
The media galleries connected to the walls were full to bursting, and the space before the dais was crowded with reporters ready to photograph the subpoenaed parties. Nearly all the seats for those with the security clearance to observe the closed session hearing were full. One face stood out as
Jamie and the others maneuvered past the crowd to the witness table set with ten chairs this time around to accommodate the director and Alpha Team.
The DOJ’s Special Counsel, Travis Reynolds, had claimed a seat in the audience front and center. While the congressional investigations lacked the ability to prosecute, the DOJ’s did not. Normally, the two separate investigations would communicate through written requests to share reports and evidence. Reynolds being present wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, just unusual.
The man in question caught Jamie’s eye as the group passed, tilting his salt-and-pepper head in their direction. Reynolds didn’t say a word, but him being there spoke volumes. Jamie hoped today’s hearing went a long way toward clearing his and his team’s name.
Jamie ignored the cameras focused on him as Nazari went to confer with their lead JAG representative one more time. His team gathered around him, looking to Jamie to lead them forward one more time. His gaze lingered on where Kyle stood next to Katie, taking in his lover, glad that Kyle was here with him.
“Been a wild ride,” Jamie said in a low voice, meeting their eyes one at a time. “I couldn’t ever ask for a better team or a better family. You all know that.”
“Couldn’t ask for a better captain,” Katie replied, a smile tugging at her mouth.
Jamie looked at her, meeting his second-in-command’s eyes and seeing the same steady gaze reflected back at him. She’d been by his side for ten years and counting, a rock who’d helped him weather every storm that came their way.
“It’s been an honor,” Jamie told them.
“Honor was ours, sir,” Annabelle replied for them all.
As one, the eight members of Alpha Team that Jamie had commanded though the years snapped off precise salutes. Jamie returned the gesture without a second thought before turning to take his seat at the witness table. His team arranged themselves around him, with Katie to his right and Nazari eventually claiming the seat to his left.
Some minutes later, the senators on the United States Senate Select Committee on Presidential Campaign Activities entered the room. While the committee’s name hadn’t changed, its objective had.
This time around, Senator Jeremy Stroud seemed less annoyed than when Jamie had last appeared before the committee. The senator’s frank gaze swept over the witness table as his fellow senators got situated on the dais. Someone called out for quiet and everyone in the room settled down.
“I’d like to open this hearing to order by asking the witnesses to stand for the oath and raise their right hands,” Stroud said.
Everyone at the table stood up, the cameras carried by the media in the galleries and those reporters on the floor in front of the dais never wavering. Jamie raised his right hand along with the others, his uniform jacket with its medals, ribbons, and braid pulling across his shoulders.
“Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” Stroud asked.
Jamie’s voice echoed with everyone else’s at the table when he said, “I do.”
“Please be seated.” Stroud looked down at his notes on his control screen before continuing with, “As a reminder, this is a closed session hearing and I must now at this time request the removal of all media and press, as well as anyone who doesn’t hold the required security clearance.”
It took several minutes for the room to empty out, the media galleries to be blocked by the sliding panels, and for someone to activate the soundproofing and electronic jammers. When the room was cleared and the doors locked, Stroud leaned forward, giving Jamie his full and undivided attention.
“These are very different circumstances we find ourselves meeting under again, Captain Callahan,” Stroud said.
“I’m aware of that, Senator,” Jamie replied calmly.
“I hope you will be more forthcoming than the last time you sat before this committee.”
“Depending on what questions are asked, I and my team will do our best to answer them.”
“Then I will ask that you start at the beginning. How did the MDF come to learn of the threat perpetuated by the now-deceased Russian precog Stanislav Pavluhkin?”
Jamie flashed back to a summer night in a crowded bar, and the stranger who took the spot beside him and never left. He didn’t need to look at where Kyle sat on the other side of Katie to know his lover was thinking of that night as well.
“The director saw fit to assign my team two new members in ’84,” Jamie began, the words filling his mind, that moment spooling free of memory. “And that decision changed everything.”
NOW
2286
___________________
24
Carry It With You
“I do wish Ashley and I could have made it to your engagement party, Jamie,” the president said over the uplink in Jamie’s office. “Unfortunately, we just couldn’t get away.”
Jamie shifted in his chair, sparing a fleeting thought for the last call from the president he’d taken in his old home office. He was thankful the outcome would be different this time around.
“We understand, sir. Your presence will be missed.”
“We’d like to extend our congratulations to you both. Please pass along our well-wishes to Kyle.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Now, about the latest meeting with the special counsel you’ve agreed to.”
Jamie sipped at his coffee as he talked his way through the real reason Michael had called that June morning. For all that the investigations into his and his father’s actions over the past year or so had been retooled, they weren’t going away completely. The public perception of his role had changed drastically though, and mostly for the positive. Criminal charges were looking less and less likely due to the support given by the government and the declassification of the Pavluhkin mission.
The call this time lasted about an hour. Jamie finished his coffee well before the president said goodbye. The morning sunlight spilling through the windows brightened the office over the course of the call, to the point the attending computer adjusted the overhead lighting.
A message flashed across the lower screen halfway through the call. It came from Liam, asking if Jamie and Kyle were joining him for breakfast. Jamie discreetly answered in the negative. Liam had arrived midday yesterday for the engagement party, keeping a low profile, as much as a royal outed as a metahuman could. Jamie was just glad that Liam had been able to make it, but he could fend for himself when it came to food.
“Enjoy a drink for us,” Michael eventually said in lieu of goodbye. “And keep an eye out for a package in the next few days.”
“We will, sir.”
The uplink was cut, the holoscreen disappearing. Jamie was going to turn his attention to his email—a habit he still hadn’t broken yet—when movement in the doorway caught his eye.
Kyle lounged against the doorframe, wearing a pair of soft sleeping pants and Jamie’s wrinkled dress shirt from last night. The shirt was unbuttoned and hung a little big on his shoulders. His light-brown hair was a mess that came more from the multiple rounds of sex they’d had last night rather than sleep. Jamie let his gaze drift up and down Kyle’s body, loving how he looked in Jamie’s clothes.
“You promised no work today,” Kyle said, almost pouting.
“I couldn’t ignore a call from the president.”
“I would have.”
Jamie laughed and stood up, the suit he’d put on just for the call not the one he planned on wearing for their engagement party later that afternoon. “I know you would have.”
“Guess it’s a good thing you left me all alone in bed, isn’t it?”
Jamie crossed the room, getting right up in Kyle’s space. Kyle straightened up as Jamie reached around and got a firm grip on Kyle’s ass through his pants, squeezing hard. Kyle rocked upward, his arms twining around Jamie’s neck.
“I didn’t want to leave you. If it were anyone else calling, I would have ignored them,”
Jamie said.
“You said that last time and ended up going to dinner with the First Son.”
Jamie leaned down and kissed Kyle, sliding his tongue in deep to taste him. Kyle sighed against his lips after they separated. Jamie raised his head, staring down at Kyle. “We still need the president’s support, but if it makes you feel any better, they aren’t coming.”
“That does,” Kyle said, fingering Jamie’s tie. “But you know what I’d like more?”
Jamie flexed his fingers against Kyle’s ass, massaging the firm flesh there. “I think I can guess.”
Kyle smiled teasingly at him. “Then I hope you’re not too tired to finish what we started last night.”
They had a few hours until his mother arrived to start overseeing the final details of the setup for the party. That was more than enough time to enjoy the rest of the late morning how Jamie had hoped to before he’d been woken up by a request from the president’s aide about taking the call.
Jamie licked his lips. “Let’s go back to bed.”
He stepped back and took Kyle’s hand in his, leading him back to their bedroom down the hallway. The plas-glass windows were still shaded dark for privacy, so while they could still see outside, no one could see in. Jamie spared a moment to set the soundproofing before Kyle grabbed him by the lapels of his suit jacket and tugged him down into a demanding kiss Jamie was more than willing to indulge in.
“Take off your clothes,” Jamie murmured against Kyle’s lips.
Kyle nipped at his bottom lip, and Jamie smacked him carefully on the ass for it. Kyle sucked in a breath, a smile on his face as he pulled away. “You want a show?”
In the Requiem (Metahuman Files Book 5) Page 36
