It wasn’t an apology; Jamie doubted he’d ever get one. For now, it felt like a draw, and he’dtakeit.
The elevator slowed and the doors opened on the lobby. Security manned the base at all hours, and agents were tasked with overseeing ongoing missions that didn’t stop for a holiday. Jamie had parked in the hourly parking for guests aboveground since his time on base today was a quick inandout.
Thanksgiving this year was rainy, a steady downpour that showed no signs of stopping. The drive back to his condo for the holiday meal was bound to take twice as long. Traffic was terrible coming to the base, he knew it would be just as bad going home. In Jamie’s opinion, most people never knew how to drive intherain.
They passed through the security gates and walked through the lobby at a slow pace totheexit.
“I understand your father is having a difficult time of it in the media,” Nazari continued in a low voice. “I let him know we’ll provide him support in trying to minimize the damage, but there’s not much we can do about the storiesbeingrun.”
The New York Timeswas taking the lead on that, the initial reaction articles and editorials carrying details that had Adam Dixon’s fingers all over them. Jamie could see where those stories might lead, and he didn’t like it. His father was already struggling in the polls, and no matter what kind of statement he put out, there was no changing the public opinion about his decision to go forward with the Boston campaignrally.
To say nothing of Jamie’s own reputation currently being picked apart by the media. The exposé from back in January was getting a second life at the moment, driven by the scrutiny being applied to his family. The statement put out by the Marine Corps back then wasn’t enough of an excuse any longer. Jamie wondered what the MDF would come up with to help keep his classifiedidentitysafe.
“What about when the Congressional investigation is formally opened up?” Jamieasked.
That rumor had been on everyone’s lips in Congress since Boston. In Jamie’s opinion, escaping the situation without being dragged before a Senate and House inquiry panel was impossible. Between now and when the subpoenas would inevitably be issued and served, they needed to get their storiesstraight.
“We’re aware of the rumors and are planning accordingly. We’ll reach out through backchannels if need be. You’ll be kept intheloop.”
If he wasn’t, Jamie would raise hell, andthensome.
“I better be,” Jamie said as they reached the front entrance of the main building. Nazari raised an eyebrow at his tone, but Jamie wasn’t in the mood to apologize for his attitude. “You need us, sir.Rememberthat.”
Not just him and his family, but his team, and every other metahuman that filled out the MDF’s ranks. Without them, the MDF wouldn’t exist. It never hurt to remind those in charge what they risked losing if shitty orders kept beinghandeddown.
“I can see why your father continues to believe you’re wasted within our ranks,” was Nazari’s mildreply.
Jamie knew how a compliment could double as an insult, but he let it slide this time. “Are we finished, sir? I’m needed backathome.”
“Thanksgiving with thefamily?”
“Yes.”
It wasn’t a lie, in the sense that the people waiting for him back at his condowerehis family, to a certain extent. He’d rather be therethanhere.
“Then I won’t keep you,” Nazari said as the doors slid open, a cold breeze blowing into the lobby. “Happy Thanksgiving,Callahan.”
“HappyThanksgiving,sir.”
Jamie opened up his umbrella and walked away. Whatever came of the mess of the Pavluhkin mission, they wouldhandleit.
Jamie unlocked the Bugatti he’d opted to drive today with his code-keys, slipping behind the wheel and getting situated. He tossed the umbrella in the footwell of the front passenger seat and started the engine. As he buckled up, hecalledKyle.
“On my way back,”Jamiesaid.
“Where’d you go for the centerpiece? Manhattan?” Kyle asked. “You know we’re not fancy like that. The table doesn’t need decorations when ithasfood.”
Jamie looked over at the low crystal vase with its cascade of flowers spilling over the side, secure in its travel container in the passenger seat. He’d picked it up on the drive to the base, and it was as good a cover as any for the real errand. “I can bring your mother flowers if Iwant,Kyle.”
“Sucking up? You know Lyosha already does that—ow!Lyosha!”
Jamie laughed at the sound of the squabble on the other side of the line as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the perimeter. “I’ll be there soon. Don’t kill your brother before it’s time to carve theturkey.”
“No promises,” Kyle growled before the linecutoff.
The rain didn’t let up on the drive back to the condo, the ring burning a hole in the pocket of his blazer. From time to time, Jamie would touch the shape of the box through the fabric, reminding himself that it was there, still unsure how to go about asking the most important question ofhislife.
When he arrived at the condo, Jamie parked in his reserved spot in the subterranean garage and got out with flowers in hand. He code-locked the car and made his way to the private elevator, taking it up to the penthouse condo that was home. When he finally got inside, the sound of laughter washed over him, accompanied by the smell of delicious food being tended to in the kitchen by Kyle’smother.
