All the King's Men (The Turning Series Book 1)

by Krys Janae

  “How’s it going, Cap?” Sloane saluted Morgan. He made his entrance grand, as expected, and took his seat at the far end of the table, straight across from the Director. He kicked his boots up as he smirked, the mud caked on them chipped off the tread and landed on the table’s surface.

  Frost was not impressed, but he gave Sloane a pat on the back before taking a seat.

  “It’s Major, Mr. Sloane. How nice of you to join us.” Morgan said, flatly. The sound of his knuckles popping could be heard easily, like rocks grinding and settling.

  “We found Mr. Sloane at the Billings’ house.” Danika explained.

  “Convenient.” Morgan huffed, glaring at their unexpected company.

  “Quite.” Sloane smirked. “Right place at the right time, I suppose. Didn’t recognize either one of them until it was a little late, but thanks to Dani here, Red didn’t kill me.”

  “You’re welcome.” Danika replied.

  “So, you’re running private operations now?” Morgan asked.

  Sloane laced his fingers together and he relaxed back into his chair. “Private. Yeah. I was asked by a few contacts, some families, to look into some missing persons here in Augusta. Trail led me here and I must say—Dani has gotten better.”

  “Of course, she has.” Morgan replied, proudly.

  “Next time I won’t be so nice.” Danika grumbled, rolling her eyes.

  “Yeah, even if I got the jump on you both.” Sloane winked, turning to grin at the speedster. “And you’re not so bad yourself, Red.”

  Erik shook his head, unmoved by his commendation.

  Sloane gestured at the pair he’d come in with, who had the evidence to present. “The Billings’ weren’t home, but we also found these pamphlets they’re just painting the town with.”

  Danika slid the pamphlet over to Morgan, who gave it one brief glance, before setting it down with a sigh. “We sent a copy of this over to Charlie in case he could find anything on the legal side—deeds, documents, anything about the camp or something.”

  “There didn’t seem to be any public record for it, at least not that I could find. Real Estate’s not really my area of expertise, so there might be something I’m just missing.” Charlie added. “Frost or Callie might have better luck with it.”

  Frost sat up to take a peek and added a frustrated groan of his own, before passing it along for the others to examine.

  “Camps. Concentration camps.” Danika scoffed.

  “Reconditioning is the word they’re using.” Erik added, to which Danika made another noise of objection.

  “One in the same, it seems like.” Olivia remarked.

  Morgan shook his head. There was no mistaking the disappointment in his eyes. “Popups like this have been happening since before the Turning. Religious fanatics.”

  “Yeah, well add pompous politicians to the list of assholes who wanna kill us off.” Danika’s anger was building again.

  “They won’t kill us off.” Erik’s head snapped to her direction, but even Danika could see that despite his words he was conflicted with how he was feeling about the news of King’s camp.

  “Come on, Red, get off it. You heard what Mosley was saying about us. Abominations. Freaks. That his freaking little girl should be in a camp. King’s pandering to these people who are afraid of us is just another step to win their vote in his damn campaign.”

  Surprisingly, Erik had no response to that. No one did, and the reality slapped them all in the face when Danika brought the truth to light.

  Frost shrugged, moving his uneasy gaze from Morgan to sweep over Danika and the others. “Well, we just heard that King’s gonna celebrate his campaign kickoff in a few days…” Frost glanced at Callie, who was looking at her tablet, busy searching for any information she could find on the pamphlets and the ties to King. Silence filled the room as everyone looked at her expectantly.

  “Oh, um, it’s this Saturday.”

  Frost continued with the run down, “He’s hosting a gala. Mostly a public event, but it’s black-tie and we all know how many people like to show up to those things, open bar, caviar being handed out like nothing, everyone dressed to the nines… Rightfully so, I guess since it’s priced at nearly five-hundred bucks a head.”

  “Jesus.” Danika rolled her eyes at that. As if he didn’t already have his vaults of gold bars, King was siphoning more money from the public using this dinner as an excuse to get donations for his campaign. It wasn’t that hard to see, at least for her. “Lemme guess… charity towards his campaign for fucking righteousness?”

  There was an outburst of scoffs and eyerolls, in agreeance of Danika’s sentiment.

  “Are we planning on attending?” Charlie asked, trying to bring the discussion to a point.

  Morgan nodded. “I already mapped out positions and tactics on this one. Comms will be set to open for this op. There will be a lot of people there and we don’t want to stand out by touching our ears every few minutes. Olivia, Danika, Charlie and myself will be on the floor. Erik, you and Koa will take Callie up to the top level. Whatever he’s hiding in this facility, records, schematics, a list of names of the victims, his personal files or intel on his crew—anything we might need, could possibly be there—and we need to get it. Frost already assessed that King’s office is heavily guarded, but Callie is fixing up a workaround for the technological side of the infiltration. Koa and Erik will handle it by force. If necessary.

  Erik and Koa nodded, exchanging rather excited smiles.

  Charlie looked over at Danika before giving an inquisitive eyebrow at Morgan. “On the floor? So, we’ll be a part of the—”

  “Guests, yes.” Morgan nodded. “While Erik and the others sweep the offices, the floor level objective will be to make sure that the rest of the guests are kept safe. We keep an eye out for anything… He has enemies, right? There could be Powered ones there, ready to take him out.”

  “We let them.”

  “No, Danika, we do not.”

  Sloane chuckled through his fingers, as he sat with his elbow on the table and his head nestled on the open palm of his hand, to which Danika responded with a glower. She wanted to flip him off or knock his arm out from under his head, so he’d land face-first on the glass table, but she kept the adolescent antics to herself, for now.

  “Okay… understood and all, but let me get this straight: your plan is for us to walk in there as ourselves?” Danika huffed. “Is that even really a plan? I might as well announce that we’re Powered too, and paint pretty targets on our asses before we head in.”

  Morgan was so displeased, his face hardened. Only Danika could see the fine lines of marble etching in the side of his face. Of everyone in their little rag-tag group, Morgan had the most control over his abilities, but Danika had pushed one too many buttons. She could only guess that the presence of Sloane had broken some of that composure, too. He was standing but his fists were balled and bearing down on the thick glass surface of the conference room table, the sound of a splintering crack underneath his weight made Danika wince.

  The furniture stores must be rolling in money because of us. Good for the economy, at least.

  Her eyes flickered, alight with mischief, but she knew she’d hit the boiling point. Danika folded her arms across her chest and pursed her lips as she sat back. She had to concede—since going against her uncle was going to be a losing battle. “Sorry. You were saying…”

  “Not all of us will be in plain sight. Olivia will be my date.” Morgan tried his best to sound neutral, but she could tell he was pleased with that plan.

  “Cute.” Danika teased, raising an eyebrow. Family or not, it wasn’t hard to see that Olivia was a sexually charged bombshell and that her uncle was single… Actually, she tried her hardest not to think about that because it gave her a nice case of nausea.

  “…Yes. Olivia will be undercover, using her ability to disguise herself and use a different face to enter the building.”

  “So, she gets to play m
asquerade, and we walk in there as ourselves? We might as well hand them our resumes. Blood type. Mother’s maiden names?” Danika started in again, almost as if she couldn’t contain herself. Maybe it was because Sloane and Charlie were both in the room. That fact was distracting enough, but this plan seemed flimsy at best, putting the entire team at risk for the sake of buying time for the folks involved in the investigation squad. Danika couldn’t help but voice her opinion of the scheme Morgan had concocted.

  Charlie quietly chuckled, but Sloane seemed to share her consternation.

  Morgan sighed, agitated by the constant interruption. “Dani.”

  “Sorry.”

  Morgan continued, “Just in case anything changes course, Olivia will be able to shift and will be untraceable.”

  To that, Olivia nodded proudly, but of course it was true. She had the power to not only blend in with people as other people, she could also go invisible if she wanted. The plan seemed like it had a chance if both teams were on point, if everyone stuck to it. Morgan seemed confident enough they could improvise if there were any hiccups. That were too many “ifs” for Danika, but she couldn’t think up a better alternative. Despite all her complaints, she knew this was their best chance at getting the information they needed to tie King to the missing kids.

  “We’ll rendezvous for departure at 1730 and be ready to roll by 1800.” Morgan was about to call the meeting adjourned, as was expected when he started spitting out timeframe, but a huff came from the back of the room.

  “What about me?” Sloane was swiveling side to side in his chair like a child, with his arms flat on the rests.

  “What about you, Sloane?” Danika rolled her eyes as she turned toward him. To her, this meeting was starting to feel more like pre-school snack time than a tactical round robin.

  Sloane shrugged. “I don’t get a date?”

  “Unfortunately, since we didn’t really expect you to be a part of this, you don’t have an invitation.” Morgan responded, trying to tactfully force Sloane into sitting bench for this op.

  Sloane pouted a bit before he shrugged. “Hm. That’s fine. I’m sure I can find some way in.”

  Danika put her hands up. “Well, don’t look at me. I already have a date.”

  Charlie beamed across the way toward Sloane, toothy and full of mischief.

  “Nah, I’ll make some calls. There’s bound to be a plus one just waiting for me anyway.” Sloane sighed as he patted both of his palms of the board room table. His eyes flared with what resembled some jealousy or irritation at Charlie.

  “Alright everyone, that’ll be all.” Morgan announced, and the meeting was adjourned.

  Everyone started to get out of their seats, the scrape and squeak of wheels from the chairs rolled over the floor and footsteps retreated from the table, as they filed out of the room. Frost returned to his station, Olivia and Callie were chatting all the way down the stairs about what Olivia was going to wear and Koa did his usual thing—some weird vow of silence, Danika figured.

  “Dani… I’ll see you at 1730 on Saturday.” Charlie placed his hand on Danika’s shoulder, but it trailed down her spine to rest on her lower back. He offered her a smile, and hardly regarded Sloane.

  She almost shuddered at that touch, but she settled for a small blush. Danika tried to look down, and she cast a sideways glance—or rather a glare—at Charlie before he pulled away. “Yep. See ya.”

  With a crooked grin, Charlie awkwardly pulled away and took his leave. Danika exhaled, a breath she hadn’t realized she was even holding.

  “Oooh, who is that guy? You’re all about those touchy-feely familiar snuggles—Ow!” Sloane had started in on his teasing, but Danika quickly smacked him in the arm. Since she was a bit stronger than most, he felt the sting under the layers of his jacket, shirt and undershirt collectively.

  “Oh, and just so you both know—” Morgan finished tucking his papers away into his folder, but he didn’t have to look up to make it clear his comments were directed toward the bickering duo. “Dress code strictly is enforced.”

  “Black tie, right?” Sloane asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Dammit,” Danika groaned.

  Formalwear was not something she kept on hand.

  “Got you covered. Check in with Walter in thirty minutes for your outfitting. He’s been briefed and will be waiting for you.” Morgan’s parting words made Danika’s skin crawl.

  “Dammit!” she cursed again, punching the elevator button until some of the metal panel bent under her fist.

  Look the Devil in the Eye

  King’s Grand Regal Hotel was a major attraction, twenty-stories high and two hundred thousand square feet of space. The first two levels contained event halls, including the Grand Ballroom, as well as the dining options. The next fifteen floors were made up of the hotel’s rooms and suites. The top three stories were solely for the owner. Alton King ran his various businesses from the offices on the eighteenth and nineteenth floors, and lived on the twentieth. His penthouse had been featured in many style magazines, and was dripping with luxury. It was as palatial as one could build in Augusta; it was near city hall in the center of town, which made it quite the spectacle, and was notably a hot-spot for tourists as well. A bastion of steel and glass, it cost a tremendous fortune to maintain—which would have been chump change for someone like Alton King had it been in the red—but it was quite profitable, filling his pockets with its proceeds.

  The first floor was decorated from the lobby to the back end of the ballroom in numerous balloons, streamers, lights, and banners which had King’s campaign insignia imprinted on them. The symbol was a version of the fleur-de-lis resting upon a shield, the bottom lined with crown imperials interspersed with cress blossoms. The colors were royal blue and purple, all lined with black.

  Morgan’s Alpha Team, partnered and dressed to kill, made their entrance to the building. They walked arm-in-arm, one couple in front of the other, in an orderly fashion. The first obstacle in their way was the metal detector archway, set with armed guards, followed by another set of guards on either side, with hand-held metal detectors whirring and beeping as they waved over the inbound guests. Being that they were a Powered team, they didn’t bother to arm themselves with any weapons that would get them kicked out straightaway…and good thing for that, seeing as the final security checkpoint was a line of guards offering the pat down.

  “I hardly think this is necessary,” Charlie mumbled.

  Danika smiled, holding her hands up at each side. Invasive was putting it lightly, but there was no arguing with security. “Protocol, sweetheart. Just go with it.”

  “Americans.” He added, with a glare toward the guards getting a little too close for comfort.

  “Too far, darling. Boorish even.”

  The guards weren’t moved or impressed with Charlie, and Danika grinned at them to keep up appearances.

  “Pardon my fiancé, he’s just being a little testy tonight.” She winked at the guard who rolled his eyes.

  Charlie shot daggers back at them, letting Danika lead him away. He uttered: “I just feel like maybe they should buy me dinner first. I don’t even think customs wanted to white glove me, sans glove.”

  Danika snickered. The friendly pat-down for the men did seem a little bit much. Yet, she found it oddly amusing to watch Charlie’s face as he reacted to it. She found his arm again, and he pulled her close, like it was the safe space he needed. “Hey, if I have to wear this ridiculous dress, just means you gotta suck it up and keep smiling.”

  “I picked that dress for you D. Dee-signer.” Frost pointed out.

  “Yeah. Designer equals expensive, equals ridiculous. Also, quit snooping. I’d like to have a private conversation with my fiancé.” Danika squeezed Charlie’s surprisingly firm bicep to tease him.

  “Nice touch, by the way.” Charlie noted the ring on Danika’s finger, a shining silver band attached to a rather large diamond. It was a cushion cut, and only Callista knew
how many karats since Danika had told her to pick it out.

  “Don’t worry, this is coming out of your cut from tonight.” Danika grinned.

  With slightly raised brows, Charlie leaned in, his lips intensely close to her ear. It was mostly for her benefit, but he meant to be heard over the comms as well. “It’s lovely. The ring. The dress… Worth every penny, right Frost?”

  “You got it,” Frost responded.

  She blushed. She’d been caught off guard so the redness in her cheeks grew bolder the longer Charlie held his stare. Danika tugged him along. “Keep walking, Mr. Matthews.”

  “Yes. Keep walking, Mr. Matthews—” Morgan teased from behind them, “Senator Farrell! Nice to see you.” And just like that, he and Olivia split off to schmooze.

  Olivia’s ‘normal’ figure was already smoking hot, but the arm-candy look she chose for tonight’s event was about ten degrees hotter than that; a brunette Latina with caramel skin, hazel eyes, luscious lips, and a voluptuous body that made people forget how to breathe. She pulled off a low neckline on her fitted black gown. She walked like a professional in heels which made Danika envy her even more.

  “Don’t hesitate to punch my uncle in the gut if he can’t keep his eyes north of your neckline, Liv.” Danika said through her forced smile, to muffle the comment directed through her mic. She spotted a big smile on Olivia’s new face, and she sent a wink across the room to acknowledge that. “Or you know, I could do it for you.”

  Morgan sighed. “Won’t be necessary, Dani. Just keep your guard up and your—”

  “Eyes up. I know.” Danika’s eyes were up, alright, and she rolled them.

  Charlie just laughed. She’d been so focused on her uncle and Olivia that she had almost forgotten that he was walking beside her. He had these black-framed glasses on, special specs he’d been granted from Frost to pick up live feed from the event. Danika was usually the one who wore them on ops, but Frost was insistent they ‘would not go with her outfit.’ He was right, after all. She wasn’t undercover as some hipster hacker or some well-to-do psychiatrist on her day off. Tonight, she was on assignment as Danika Carlisle, Charlie’s date and alleged fiancée, a part she was afraid to play for many reasons. They were without a real cover story to shield themselves from the other white-collar folks in attendance. They would be judging her every move, even as orchestrated as they were while on Charlie’s arm.