Liam squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could believe her.
* * *
Liam leftKensington Palace for the UMG’s training facility the following morning. The drive out of Greater London took over two hours since he’d started at the height of morning rush hour traffic. It left him wanting to crawl out of his skin by the time he arrived at the training facility outside Basingstoke.
The compound had been erected over one hundred years ago, and the government had paid a princely sum for the land it sat on. Buying out farmers and homeowners had taken a decade, but in the end, the UMG’s needs won out. The place was under heavy guard and surveillance, though an onlooker would never know. Liam knew the agents on watch duty had probably clocked his arrival half an hour ago when he was still on the road.
He still had to present his NatID and credentials to the guards on duty at the front gate. The people who worked out here were always on guard, but the past week had spooked everyone more than usual.
While the headquarters in London was where Liam worked out of, the training facility wasn’t unknown to him. It was where all newly turned metahumans in the country were brought to teach them how to control their powers, and where agents underwent orientation and training. It also held much of the UMG’s fleet of vehicles and jets needed for long-range missions since London couldn’t house them.
Liam parked in the underground car park on the restricted level. He got out, tugging his suit jacket straight along his shoulders. It was strange not being in uniform, but he was only spending part of the day there before heading back to London for dinner with his parents and brother.
He passed through the internal security without issue, taking a lift up to the command level. Liam checked the chrono on his bioware, seeing he was a few minutes early for his meeting with Chapman.
The door slid open on the top level, and Liam stepped onto a floor made bright by sunlight streaming through semi-shaded and UV protected plas-glass windows that made up the slanted north wall. It offered a view of the grounds outside, an expanse of the training field, and in the distance, the security wall that lined the compound’s border.
Liam bypassed the agents on duty who were tasked with overseeing the goings-on at the training facility and coordinating with the war room back at the London headquarters if the need arose. Chapman’s office was on the other side of the level, with a view of another portion of the training field. His windows faced east, and at this hour, the sun was high enough in the sky already that Liam didn’t have to squint upon entering.
“Sir,” Liam said, drawing to attention even though he was in civilian clothes.
Chapman looked away from the holoscreen he was studying and waved Liam closer. “Colonel Wessex. Take a seat.”
Liam did as ordered, waiting patiently for Chapman to finish whatever task had his attention. It only took another couple of minutes before he locked down whatever he was viewing and minimized the holoscreen. The layers of data disappeared, and Liam found himself facing the older man’s regard.
“I don’t think I’ve thanked you yet for your service in the field,” Chapman said.
Liam cleared his throat. “No thanks needed, sir.”
“Bollocks. You’ve done a lot for queen and country. You’ve earned every accolade, and I’m sorry that we’re losing you in the field, but I’m glad you’ve chosen to remain with the UMG.”
“I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I wasn’t here,” Liam said after a moment.
Chapman nodded. “I know that feeling well. I also know this isn’t what you wanted, and we’ve a gap in terms of power where you were on the field, but I think we can replace your spot on the Royal Legion within six months or so. Maybe less.”
“That soon?”
It was difficult not to be bitter about the relative swiftness the UMG could move at when it came to allocating resources. Metahumans were handled with more care than most simply because of their rarity. Liam’s offensive power had been well needed in the field. Reworking teams to accommodate for specific power needs wasn’t done lightly.
“The Royal Legion needs an offensive heavy hitter. Captain Bhasin’s power won’t be enough in the long run.”
“Which team will you pull from?”
Chapman shook his head. “My choice hasn’t been assigned to a team yet.”
Liam’s heartrate picked up, and his fingers twitched with the need to move. “Sir?”
Chapman leaned back in his chair, the synthleather squeaking with his movement. He studied Liam with a closed-off gaze for several seconds before sighing. When he spoke, he didn’t offer an answer.
“I’m aware that the queen has spoken to you regarding your future here with the UMG. In case you think we made the decision to put you on the command tract as a consolation, I want to disabuse you of that notion. This decision was in the works for several years now, well before your classified identity became public,” Chapman said.
“When would you have informed me?”
“Within the next couple of years. We had hoped to keep you in the field longer, but that became an untenable position. As it is, you were my first choice for successor.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Chapman quirked a tiny smile at him. “Don’t get excited. I don’t plan on going anywhere for at least a decade. I also don’t foresee you having a difficult time learning the job. You already have a far better grasp at political networking than I did at your age. That will help immensely when you need to fight Parliament for our agency’s needs.”
