“Depends on if Cillian hasn’t altered his standard design,” Sean said.
“Most bomb-makers don’t. They tend to stick with what’s comfortable for them.”
“If we’re talking multiple bombs, we’re going to need more than one demolitions specialist,” Donovan pointed out.
“I’m no specialist, but I can disarm them pretty easily. My power and electronics don’t really mix,” Sean said.
“How so?” Liam asked.
“Phase field. I can go intangible and short-circuit any electronics in the bomb.”
The invisible phase field his body exuded encompassed Sean within a two-inch radius. Sean could control his phase power so only all or part of his body became intangible. He could push the phase field outward into other people, changing their molecular density as he did with his own, but it took a lot of effort.
The alteration of his body’s status didn’t agree with electronics, which meant he was forever at risk of losing communication with headquarters if he phased his entire body. It was part of the reason why he rarely used his power in the field, relying on his training to get the job done.
“How destructive is your phase power on weapons?” Madison wanted to know.
“The MDF tested my power on a whole range of weapons. Bombs don’t go off if I touch them and I can still use guns.”
“All right,” Liam said. “So we have two people who can diffuse the bombs. Finding the bombs in the first place is going to be the bigger problem.”
“So let’s start looking. Sean, I need you to collate the examples of Cillian’s designs I flagged in the information the UMG gave us on the Reborn IRA. Let’s try to figure out if he’s still sticking with his MO and where he might try to hide them,” Jamie ordered.
Sean nodded and got to his feet, knowing they didn’t have any time to waste when the gala was less than forty-eight hours away. It was all hands on deck, which was far better than just his own.
12
Weapon of Choice
Jamie pulled on his Rolex—platinum again, with a diamond-encrusted face and bezel this time around—watching in bemusement as Kyle gamely attempted to tie his bow tie in the full-length mirror hanging from the wall near the walk-in closet.
“I can see you laughing at me,” Kyle said around a scowl. “If I can see you, I can shoot you.”
“Having trouble? Is it too much for you? I could have sworn the attendant showed you how to tie it in the store,” Jamie said, trying for innocent and failing miserably.
“I was a little more interested in watching you than watching what he was doing.”
“It shows.”
Kyle gave up and stalked over to Jamie, thrusting his hand out with the scrap of silk in it. “I hate tying these things. You do it.”
“Haven’t you had to do this for mess dress before?”
“Once. And I made Alexei do it because he’s better at it than I am.”
Jamie laughed softly as he took the length of black silk and smoothed out the hint of wrinkles from Kyle’s efforts with his fingers. He unabashedly took Kyle in with a slow, deliberate once over. “You clean up nice.”
Kyle snorted. “I should hope so, considering how much money you spent on this outfit.”
“I like spending money on you.”
Kyle bit his lip at that statement, shrugging a little self-consciously. To Jamie’s eyes, he was the epitome of sleek sensuality with just a hint of rough edges that would prove to every eye at the gala he didn’t come from money. Jamie didn’t care, because he wouldn’t have Kyle any other way.
The narrow cut of the tuxedo jacket followed the lines of his body exactly. The pants were tailored for a slimmer fit than was strictly on trend, but Jamie rather thought Kyle might start a new one by the end of the night. The crisp white dress shirt layered beneath the trim vest wasn’t bunched in any way. The tuxedo jacket, hanging in the closet still, had a narrow cut which would follow the lines of Kyle’s body exactly.
Jamie reached out and flipped up Kyle’s collar in order to slide the bow tie around his throat. He deftly tied the bow, carefully tugging it into form and knotting it in place before folding the shirt collar back down and smoothing out everything else.
“See? Not so hard,” Jamie said, giving Kyle a quick kiss on the lips. “Put your jacket on. We need to get going.”
“The museum isn’t that far away. I thought Katie wanted us to be fashionably late?”
“We will be, if only because London traffic on a Friday night is ridiculous.”
Kyle pulled his jacket off the hanger and slipped it on, tugging it firmly into place. He didn’t bother with the buttons since they would be getting in the car soon.
He made a face at Jamie. “I want a gun.”
“You’re not carrying a weapon. They’ll be on site when we need them.”
The UMG had swapped out quite a number of workers setting up the gala space with their own agents in order to lay the groundwork for their plan. Weapon caches had been hidden under several food and drink tables scattered throughout the gala space. Several members of the Royal Legion and a few other UMG field teams would be acting as bartenders and museum security guards for the night, keeping an eye on the gear they’d brought in for everyone. Liam wouldn’t be one of them, since his identity was too noticeable to pass off as someone else, but Samaira was commanding all UMG metahumans inside the museum.
When the fighting started—because Jamie doubted this would end peacefully—the members of Alpha Team would put on the nanotech strips stowed in their pockets or purses. While it couldn’t hide their features to a person’s naked eye, it would blur their faces on any security feed, video, or pictures. With the UMG controlling the museum security feed, they would help minimize the risk of someone identifying the metahumans in the field.
They’d tried to plan for every contingency, but on such a short timeframe, with limited access to the location to stave off suspicion, Alpha Team was in a tight spot. Getting the in with the Pavluhkins and the Presnenskaya Bratva while stopping the Reborn IRA from targeting the gala was going to require more than a little sleight of hand. It would necessitate them playing their roles just right before switching them out for their real identities and hoping no one noticed in the panic.
Which meant Jamie had to embody the ultra-wealthy, arrogant bastard Jansen expected him to be. Just thinking about how he needed to act left a sour taste at the back of Jamie’s mouth. Some days he couldn’t believe how self-centered he used to be before the Marines straightened his ass out. He was thankful, he realized, that out of everyone on the team, only Katie really knew what he used to be like. Jamie doubted Kyle would want him as he once was, and that was a sobering realization.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Kyle said, drawing Jamie’s attention back to him.
Jamie blinked, turning his face into the warm touch of Kyle’s hand. “Tonight is going to be a mess. I can feel it.”
Kyle studied him, green eyes full of a calmness Jamie wanted to drown in. “You realize if any of the Splice chemical bombs go off, you won’t lose us, right? We’re already metahumans.”
Jamie was abruptly thrown back to last summer, watching helplessly as Kyle took down Cora Everly in a secure lab to keep the rest of them safe. Mixing Splice with the attempted vaccine had resulted in a destabilization of metahuman DNA. Everly hadn’t survived the infection and only Kyle’s rapid healing power had enabled him to live after a wrenching touch and go period.
Jamie took a deep breath, letting it out slow to help steady his mind. “I know. But I hate the thought of putting most of the people at the gala at risk. Criminals or not, no one deserves to die from Splice.”
“And that’s why we’re doing this. If we get accepted into the Pavluhkins’ sphere of influence, we’ll have a better chance at finding those Splice labs.”
Kyle stood on his tiptoes, pressing his mouth to Jamie’s in a soothing kiss. Jamie opened his mouth to Kyle’s questing tongue, sliding his hands underneath the
tuxedo jacket Kyle wore to grip his hips.
“We’ll get through this,” Kyle promised after breaking the kiss.
Jamie tightened his hands on Kyle’s hips. “I need you to know that whatever happens tonight, whatever people say about us, whatever I have to say when it comes to you, that’s not how I really feel.”
Kyle rubbed his thumb over the seam of Jamie’s lips. “I know. Now, come on. We’ve got a job to do.”
Almost everyone was waiting for them downstairs. Alexei and Sean were impeccable in their own tuxedos, though Alexei didn’t look happy about wearing his. Much like Kyle, they didn’t seem comfortable in expensive clothes. Sean, on the other hand, wore his like he’d been born to it. Jamie thought Sean’s ability to change personalities within seconds was helpful for the mission, if more than a little creepy.
“Just waiting on Katie,” Madison said with a cheerful wave.
She, like most of the others, was dressed in much more functional clothing—dark suits and boots with sturdy soles, her thick black hair tied back in a no-nonsense style. They’d blend in with the other men and women charged with protecting their employers. None of them would be staying behind in the cars, which necessitated UMG agents getting behind the wheel. The cars might have a self-driving mode, but none of them wanted to risk anyone tampering with the vehicles.
A door slamming upstairs had Jamie looking over his shoulder. Seconds later, Katie came into view at the top of the stairs in a stunning red vintage Valentino couture gown. The off-the-shoulder gown had delicate lace sleeves extending to her elbows. The ball gown skirt consisted of voluminous layers of red tulle with an embroidered belt nipping in at the waist. Her hair was done up in a complicated twist picked through with diamond hair pins, and a choker of rubies borrowed from a jewelry house circled her throat.
She hadn’t gone the route of cut-out dresses or the more risqué ones that were little more than artfully placed fabrics. Most evening gowns were on the fitted side these days, the details setting them apart through design or technology. Katie opting for an older look would definitely draw attention to her, making the meet and greets they had to make for their cover easier.
“You look beautiful, but can you fight in that?” Jamie asked.
“The dress is a two-piece. The outer skirt comes off and the rest is a mini-dress, which is why I chose it,” Katie replied as she descended the stairs.
Trust his second-in-command to go the practical fashion route. “All right, let’s get this show on the road.”
The weather that night was cold, with the threat of rain later on. They took their usual pair of SUVs, leaving the house behind under the secure watch of UMG agents. The Victoria and Albert Museum was located south of Hyde Park, and Cromwell Road and Exhibition Road both had traffic detours going on to compensate for the many arrivals of the attendees. The way was a crush of vehicles the closer they got, the sidewalks leading up to the venue packed with police on traffic and crowd control duty, revelers walking the rest of the way, onlookers, and paparazzi angling for the best photos and videos. The airspace nearest the main entrance on Cromwell Road was packed full of hovering drone cameras recording every second of the arrivals.
Jamie had a feeling some of the attendees would arrive via the side entrance to spare their identities from making it on the top headlines of gossip sites. As much as Jamie would’ve liked to join them, they had to grit their teeth and smile for the public.
When it was their turn, the SUVs rolled up to the red carpet and came to a smooth halt. Jamie squared his shoulders and got out, face a mask of polite disinterest for the gathered crowd, all his attention on helping Kyle out of the SUV. Donovan and Annabelle exited the vehicle after them and they waited a few moments for the rest of their team to exit the second SUV.
Alexei offered his arm to Katie with Sean trailing behind them. Jamie smiled at Katie as they headed up the stone steps to the entrance situated beneath the grand stone archway, ignoring the camera flashes that brightened the way. They’d eschewed coats, despite the January winter night. Snow rarely fell in London anymore, and the temperature wasn’t even close to freezing. The chilly wind was easy to ignore for the few minutes they were out in it. The length between their vehicles and the door was nothing compared to the cold training they’d all gone through in the military.
Heads up, eyes open, Jamie said through the mental links Katie had tethered between everyone’s minds.
The mental response of Oorah from most of his team was comforting.
They joined the short queue to log their prints for the guest list just inside the door, chatting amicably amongst themselves about innocuous subjects. The key to getting through a party like this without offending anyone was to keep the surface conversations bland and tailored to the politics of the room, to not make waves if your status was below everyone else’s, and to always, always smile.
Jamie reflected on what he’d been taught by his parents growing up and ruthlessly discarded every ingrained habit in favor of making a scene.
They walked one at a time through a portable body scanner, each of them getting cleared by the security manning the event. No one on the team carried any guns, though Jamie doubted that would be the case for everyone invited tonight.
“Please tell me this isn’t what your family does for fun?” Kyle asked under his breath as they moved away from the security area near the door.
“My mother has standing invites to nearly every major charity event, gala, party, you name it, on two continents. If she wanted, she could attend a party every night of the year and still miss out on others,” Jamie said a little wryly.
Kyle looked vaguely horrified at that confession.
Jamie reached out and grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together. “Don’t worry. You’d only ever have to go to the ones I’m required to go to.”
“That’s what scares me, because I know how moms are when they want you to do something.”
Jamie couldn’t help but laugh at that, his amusement drawing several appreciative glances from the women around him and one or two men. “I’d make it worth your while to join me.”
“And on that note, I’m off,” Katie said, patting Jamie on the arm as she swept past him. “Try not to embarrass yourselves or my company tonight.”
“No promises,” Kyle said with a leer directed more at Jamie than at her.
Trevor followed after Katie while Sean led Alexei in a different direction, Annabelle a shadow they couldn’t shake. Donovan and Madison stayed less than an arm’s reach from Jamie and Kyle as they slowly made their way forward.
The rotunda just past the entrance was awash in glittering lights, all reflected by the vast crystal chandelier hanging above the reception desk currently manned by high-ranking museum representatives. Jamie brushed past their attempts to greet him, swiping a glass of champagne off one of several floating drink trays a server—not one of their people—was monitoring in the crowd. He threw it back, making a face at the vintage. He’d never cared much for champagne, preferring whiskey over wine, but he’d drink it. Handing the empty glass off to a different server, he grabbed two more glasses from a different tray and passed one to Kyle.
Kyle stayed by his side, a quiet, unobtrusive presence who smiled winningly at the first two people Jamie smoothly and politely insulted before moving on to a French-Somali businessman who barely got a handful of words in before Jamie cut him off with “You have nothing to offer me.”
He left, and maybe the man would’ve tried to follow, except Donovan blocked his way with an unfriendly smile that promised to stop the man if he tried. Jamie ignored the insults in French being spat at him from behind, grabbing Kyle by the hand and walking through a pair of pillars into the wing directly ahead where other guests were gathered.
Jamie made eye contact with several UMG metahumans as they mingled through two galleries, commenting on design artwork he had no interest in. The clothing on display in one room was a special exhibition for a designer wh
o peaked thirty years ago; Jamie loudly decried the representation lacked taste before leaving for the next room.
“Admit it,” Kyle said as he popped a piece of filet mignon wrapped in bacon into his mouth, pulling it off the metal skewer it was stuck on using his teeth. “You like pissing people off.”
“Useless people annoy me,” Jamie replied.
“I must say, I do agree with that mindset. It’s so refreshing to hear one speak so plainly at an event like this,” said an older woman decked out in a white evening gown and enough diamonds to blind a man. “You must be the American irritating my contemporaries.”
Jamie smiled indulgently at her. “I see no reason to coddle people who aren’t worth my time.”
She laughed, the sound smooth and rich, and extended her right hand to him in a delicate way. Her left held a flute of champagne, the diamond on her ring finger larger than her knuckle and covering the secondary marriage band beneath it. As Jamie watched, the white of her column gown changed color to a gorgeous blue before fading into a multitude of deep purples and gray, and then back to white. She’d gone with a tech gown over one with cut-outs, and it suited her tall, lithe form.
“My husband says the same thing.”
“A smart man, Mrs.—?”
“Dame Caroline Wallace. I’m in the business of acquisitions.”
“My apologies, Dame Wallace. Jamie Callahan, at your service,” he said with a smile, taking her hand and making a show to kiss the air above her knuckles. “I’m in the business of money.”
Dame Wallace’s eyes sharpened at the sound of his name; Jamie could almost see her racing thoughts reflected in her eyes. “Well, the buzz going around about an American in our presence didn’t mention that.”
“If the people complaining about my opinions don’t know who I am, then they don’t deserve to be in my presence.”
Dame Wallace arched a brow at that, nodding agreement. “Do you know, I believe I’ve met your parents before. Several years ago, by my count. It was at the reopening of Empyrean’s launch station after renovations in the South East of England. I don’t recall you being there.”
In the Ruins (Metahuman Files Book 2) Page 25
