MeteorOnAMoonlessNight: Devil Incarnate Chapter Twenty-seven

"Something’s not right."

Those were the last words Edward wanted to hear from Holden's mouth. "What now?"

"You know that plan B we talked about?"

Edward sighed. "The one you said had been handled?"

"To an extent." Holden pressed a hand over his headphones. "Recon team said they had it in the bag, but shit went south on them real quick."

Dropping his head to the seatback, Edward said, "Let me guess."

"Yeah." Holden spoke to the pilot, and soon they felt the helo banking to the right.

"Looks like Mr. Smith is going to Washington."

"How did we get sucked into this again?" Emmett asked. His eyes were half closed, his arm slung casually over the back of Quinn's seat.

"Fuck if I know." Edward watched his son, who was apparently sleeping. Neither of them wanted Quinn to take part in any more violence. It wasn't what he was made for, certainly not like his father. Everyone understood the importance of him joining the mission at the office building, but no more.

Holden rubbed his temples. "The gist is, Zion had one of their people installed as secret service. They'd gathered the president, vice president, and speaker together, which we all know is a red flag. Other agents were insisting they split up immediately, but they weren’t successful before things escalated."

"And by escalated . . ." Jasper prompted.

"Turns out, guy had a bomb strapped under his clothes. We're not sure how he made it into the PEOC with it, and I'm unclear at this point who's safe and who isn't."

"Mind telling me what the fook a PEOC is?"

Holden smiled grimly at Seamus. "Presidential Emergency Operations Center. The bunker under the White House."

"Did he just say we've got a mole in the peacock?" Killian asked.

Edward couldn't help it; he burst into laughter. A little tension released, and his shoulders felt lighter.

“Me and whatever men I can gather are needed ASAP,” Holden said over their laughter. “We've upped the national security risk. Plan B might end up being more productive than plan A."

"Perhaps that was their goal all along. Send us chasing after a super weapon when they had already infiltrated one of the highest agencies in the land." Not that it helped anyone if he was right. They neared the emergency command base Holden had set up for them, and Edward stared out the window at the lights and people milling around.

“Everyone has been notified of the change in plans?” Edward asked.

“That’s an affirmative.”

Unloading from the helicopter, the men gathered around a table set up with maps.

“Tunnel entrance here,” Holden said while pointing. “Big red circle is the target.”

“Riot gear?” Emmett asked.

“Inbound, along with a resupply and high-powered weapons.”

Jasper sifted through the other documents on the table. “The sum of the mission is to save the president?”

“Our highest priority is the president, yes. However, we’ll ideally save them all.” Scrubbing his hands over his face, Holden muttered, “I think I’m retiring after this.”

“No one will renege on the full pardon if we fail, will they?” Quinn asked.

Edward raised his eyebrows. “Are you worried you’ll be in trouble, or hoping I will be?”

Quinn ignored him, which bristled. They needed time to sit and talk, but it was anyone’s guess when they would get it.

“The pardon was in exchange for helping the agency stop Zion, whether or not you were successful in the mission.”

Nodding, Quinn moved farther away and sat in one of the few chairs.

“I’ll have an agent take him to the secure site,” Holden offered, and Edward nodded.

“Okay then,” Seamus said. “Who dies first?”

oOo

There was no sound in the hallway. Red emergency lights illuminated the long white expanse and the men who lined the walls. It had already occurred to Edward that there should have been an entire platoon—rather than a mere handful of men—tasked with saving the president’s life. After they’d located the last agency mole giving information to Zion and taken him out, Holden was reluctant to include more of his men. Their current mission was on a need-to-know basis, and no one else needed to know. What they were left with was an elite team of criminal masterminds playing on the side of good to defeat evil from ruining the world.

As was customary, Jasper took the lead, using hand signals to direct the team. Edward preferred to have their six, glancing up and down the hallway once more as a matter of habit. Holden’s intel told them they wanted the door at the end, which was approximately fifty feet from their current location. As they inched closer, a ruckus became apparent through the thick steel door.

Jasper raised his hand to indicate they needed to stop. Holden moved up, entering a code into the security panel beside the door. He moved back when a tiny light blinked green, and Jasper gripped the handle.

3, 2, 1, Edward thought as Jasper held up his fingers to count down. Jasper shoved the door in with his riot shield raised, and they moved forward as one with weapons at the ready. The room’s interior was mayhem, with chairs overturned and people hiding on the floor under the long mahogany conference table. One man stood in the center of said table, screaming at them in what could only be Russian. At the noise of the intruders, he turned to face them, his thumb hovering over a detonation trigger.

“I dare you to stop me,” he said.

“I never back down from a dare,” Edward replied. The man was in his sights, but he didn’t have the okay to shoot him.

“There are more, and more after them. You might kill me, but they will come.”

Too busy talking, he didn't see the door on the opposite side of the room open silently and allow three people inside. He didn't see the person creep up behind him with their weapon pointed at the back of his head. As much as Edward wanted to focus on them to make sure they took the shot, he couldn't give their position away.

“I have power; you are nothing! Whole country will be ours, and soon, world!”

The gunshot was quiet, but the result was loud; ugly. The man tumbled off the table to the ground, and Holden snatched the detonator from his hand.

Edward had lost count of how many times he’d been covered in blood in his life. Maybe one day he could live in a world where he wasn’t in danger of having another person’s brains splattered over his clothes. “Nice shot.”

“I learned from the best.”

Unable to help himself, he vaulted over the table in three strides and yanked her tight to his chest, kissing her on the forehead and crushing her in his embrace. “Almost finished.”

She squeezed him back, taking a second to bury her head in his neck. It would have to hold them for the time being.

“Unfortunately, he wasn't bluffing.” Holden moved around the room, reading the computer screens and the information projected onto the walls. “There’s one here.” He tapped the location. “And one here. They’ve moved the president and vice president.”

“So we’ll play a game of whack-a-mole,” Seamus said. He tugged Bella away from Edward and hugged her. “Just so you know, I prefer an eala to a lebed.”

Jasper took a turn, followed by Emmett. Finally, Edward said, “Stop manhandling my wife so we can finish this and get the fuck out of here.”

Jasper ruffled her hair. “Sorry for all that back there.”

“I can’t exactly be mad at you when it was my plan.” Glancing at Edward, she softly asked, “Quinn?”

“Right pissed, he is,” Seamus answered.

“He hates me.” Edward stared long and hard at Jake and Garrett. “They took care of you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Obviously.”

“As much fun as this reunion is, we need to move.” Holden headed to the far door, throwing words over his shoulder and letting them fall where they may. “By the way, folks, you’ve been saved. Feel free to crawl back to your desks or some shit.”

The team walked quietly down the hallway. Edward wanted to put his arm around Bella, to keep her within his personal space. But they had so much to work through, so much hurt and animosity to overturn.

“Here.” Holden stopped, turning his back to the wall. The others followed suit. “VP, in that room. One terrorist.”

“Gee, is that all?” Garrett drawled. “That’s a walk in the park compared to what we’ve done lately.”

Bella rolled her shoulders, massaging her clavicle. “Coming back from the dead isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

Before they could make another move, the door down the hall opened, spitting out several men in camouflage gear. They shouted, running and pulling out their weapons.

“Time to go!” Jasper took the lead, crouching behind his shield and taking a few shots.

Bella took off, using the opening created by a bashed in door as her destination. Edward watched her fire as she ran, and the man closest to them went down.

“Well done,” he murmured. In the heat of the moment, she’d instinctively remembered her training.

They only had a few choices in such a tight space. It wouldn't take much for the Russians to kill them all as they tried to escape. The discordance of multiple weapons going off at once was deafening.

As he made it through the doorway behind Jasper and Bella, Edward turned to see who was left. Holden, then Jake, Seamus, Emmett, and Garrett.

“What now?” Edward asked as the last of them stepped inside.

Holden paced as Garrett and Emmett moved a huge cabinet to cover the hole they’d entered through. “If we can, we kill them all and keep moving.”

The sound of bullets pinging off the cabinet and the surrounding wall met their ears.

“And how would you suggest we do that?” Jake asked.

“I know at least one of you has a grenade,” Holden replied.

“Yeah, we all do.” Seamus pulled his out. “But if we use them all now, we could be fooked in the long run.”

“Just start throwing them.”

Obeying Holden’s orders, Seamus pulled the pin and tossed the grenade over the cabinet. They ran to the far side of the room and crouched, covering their ears.

Once the dust settled, they listened for anyone else coming.

“That might have done it,” Bella said.

Jake cocked his head. “We should sit tight for a few, just in case they’re hiding on the other side of the wall.”

"Always assume the worst," Edward agreed. “Maybe we should find the room the president is in and skip the VP for now.”

“As much as it pains me to agree, you’re right.” Holden sighed, speaking into his communication device. When he nodded and headed to the opposite end of the room, the others followed his lead.

“What the fook are you doing?” Seamus asked. “There’s no door here.”

“Vent shaft.” Holden poked at the ceiling tile. “I only plan to see what’s going on in the hallway. It would be too difficult to trek around the entire building this way.”

Being the tallest men, Garrett and Emmett gave him a boost until he disappeared inside the HVAC vent.

“What do you see?” Jake asked.

Holden’s voice came to them muffled. “Hallway is clear, but I doubt it will be for long.”

“Then let’s get moving,” Jasper said. “Help that dumbass down before the ceiling collapses.”

With Holden back on terra firma and everyone geared up, they crept to the filing cabinet and worked as a team to move it aside. To be safe, Jasper held the shield out first and checked through the small window to ensure the hallway was clear. The others followed his hand signal to move forward, and those with shields brought them up in front to lead the group while everyone angled along the wall. Edward couldn't remember ever feeling less like a mob boss and more like a soldier; their goals had long exceeded covering their asses and moved into worrying about saving modern democracy.

“Second door on the left,” Holden muttered over comms. They could hear gunshots and screams through the wall, and everyone tensed.

“10-4.” Edward glanced behind him, satisfied that Bella was close. Despite having repeatedly proven her capabilities, he reserved the right to be anxious when they were encountering a firefight of that magnitude.

The lot of them congregated outside the door, much the same as the first time. Holden punched in a code, and Jasper counted down before throwing it open. When they stormed in, they expected to find the president, the terrorist, and anyone else they’d held hostage.

That was not the sight greeting them. Edward gaped, a headache threatening to split his head clean open. It was impossible, and yet he saw it with his own two eyes. “Quinn?”

“Dad?”

“What the hell is going on?” Scanning the room, he saw the president, his son, a familiar agent, and a smattering of terrorists. There was a disconnect in Edward’s synapses, preventing him from comprehending the obvious.

Bella’s touch grounded him; he knew it was her by the cool smoothness of her palm connecting with the skin of his lower back. He shifted his sweat-slicked grip on the weapon in his hands, unsure what the fuck to do next.

“No matter what happens,” he whispered to her, “you protect our son at all costs.”