The elevator doors closed on Kyle’s smiling face. Jamie let out a heavy sigh as he descended alone, wishing Kyle were with him.
Jamie stepped into the ground-floor lobby right as a call rang through his comms. He tugged up the sleeve of his uniform to check his bioware. Burwell’s ID glowed through his skin, and Jamie answered the call.
“We’re out front,” Burwell said.
“I’m almost there,” Jamie told him.
When he made it outside, Burwell had the door to the SUV already open for him. The older man nodded respectfully at Jamie. They’d reached an understanding after Boston when Burwell and others on his security detail became aware of his classified identity. The antagonism that had been between them in the beginning was long gone.
Jamie got settled in the middle seat, the synthleather creaking a little as he did so. Once Burwell was back in the front passenger seat, the driver pulled into the street. Three other Secret Service special agents were riding with him to the White House.
“Music, sir?” Burwell asked.
“Whatever you guys were listening to before is fine,” Jamie told them. He pulled out his tablet from his pocket, intent on spending the ride keeping atop any updates coming down the pipeline.
The MDF’s intelligence division hadn’t picked up any viable chatter over the last week or so on the dark web or anywhere else about an imminent attack. All attempts by the MDF and other agencies to track Declan and the Sons of Adam had come up short. The cruise missile attack in Arizona and the aerial attack over Kansas proved that Declan had the military hardware and the reach to follow through on whatever order Stanislav gave.
Jamie scrolled through his messages and the notifications that popped up from news alerts. Almost everything on the civilian side had to do with the State Dinner. Jamie grimaced as he envisioned the sort of articles that would be written about him tonight regarding his date with the First Son. He doubted any would be flattering, no matter what his father or the president hoped for.
The closer they got to the center of the nation’s capital, the worse traffic became. A State Dinner was a grand affair, a spectacle unlike anything else put on by the D.C. elite. Security was tight, as always. Normally closed to public vehicles, Pennsylvania Avenue NW had been opened to handle the arrival of all dignitaries, politicians, and those lucky enough to score an invite to the coveted event. The Secret Service had been joined by extra ranks of police officers, but their presence didn’t immediately soothe Jamie’s nerves.
As with Boston, a part of him wished tonight’s festivities had been canceled.
They were one of the earliest arrivals, and rather than exiting their vehicle out on the street as others were doing, Jamie’s driver got them through the last security checkpoint and pointed the SUV up the curved driveway to the North Portico of the White House. Jamie could see the red carpet was out, standing out sharply against the white backdrop as they pulled up.
The SUV braked to a stop and Burwell got out first to open the door for Jamie. Two Secret Service special agents tasked with guarding the First Family stood outside the entrance to the White House, along with a contingent of honor guards from across all military branches on duty for the State Dinner.
Jamie nodded a silent goodbye to Burwell before climbing the steps, the red carpet firm beneath his feet. The country’s flag, along with the United Kingdom’s, stood on either side of the entrance to the White House. The Secret Service was expecting him, and one special agent opened the door for him. Jamie stepped inside, coming to parade rest before Charles Argent. The president’s chief of staff didn’t seem harried despite the event going on.
“Captain Callahan,” Charles said.
“Mr. Argent,” Jamie replied.
“The First Son is waiting for you upstairs with his family. I’m to escort you to them.”
Jamie nodded and let him lead the way. The private rooms of the White House on the second floor felt lived in as opposed to seeming like a museum. Jamie had half a thought to wonder if his family would ever get the chance to become intimately acquainted with the space, or if that chance was forever gone. He pushed that thought aside once in the presence of the president in the living room next to the Yellow Oval Room.
Michael smiled broadly as he got up from the couch, coming forward to greet him before Jamie even finished saluting his commander-in-chief.
“Excellent timing, Jamie,” Michael said.
The president looked trim and sharp in a black tuxedo, his bow tie knotted perfectly around his throat. Jamie’s attention moved from him to Ashley, the First Lady resplendent in a dark blue, off-the-shoulder gown and a choker of sapphires. Her hair was pinned in an updo and set by way of diamond and sapphire pins.
“You look lovely, ma’am,” Jamie said.
“Why thank you,” Ashley said. “You certainly clean up well yourself, Jamie.”
Standing beside her was Gabriel, who couldn’t quite hide the interest in his eyes when he looked at Jamie, despite knowing that their time together tonight was all for show. Gabriel wore a sleekly tailored tuxedo complete with black bow tie, his dark hair immaculately styled.
He looked impossibly young to Jamie’s eyes, despite his age. The life experiences separating them were wider than the Grand Canyon, and their commonalities were few and far between. Even if his heart wasn’t promised to Kyle, Jamie doubted Gabriel would have ever meant anything to him beyond his duty. Jamie extended his hand to Gabriel in greeting, making sure his resignation at the situation didn’t show on his face.
“You clean up nice,” Gabriel said.
“Anyone in a Marine uniform cleans up nice,” Jamie replied.
Gabriel chuckled and stepped closer, glancing at his father. Jamie didn’t follow his gaze, not wanting to give the president the wrong idea.
“Shall we?” Ashley said. “Prince Samuel and his family should be arriving soon.”
