“Liam was in a car accident. I was on the line with him when it occurred. He’s not answering his comms,” Oliver cut in as he palmed open his front door, forgetting to use Liam’s rank in his panic.
Chapman was quiet for a handful of seconds before he swore. “There was an accident on Lambeth Bridge. Colonel Wessex’s vehicle was involved.”
“Did they take him?” Oliver wanted to know. “Did the Reborn IRA get their hands on him?”
Chapman ignored the question in favor of asking one of his own. “What did Liam say when he spoke to you?”
Oliver opened his mouth to speak, then snapped it closed. He didn’t want to disclose that they were together last night, but he knew everyone would figure it out soon enough once he handed over the clip of the call.
“I invited Colonel Wessex over last night to discuss a personal issue. He rang just now to continue the conversation when the accident happened. All I heard was him screaming before the line cut out.”
“I want a copy of that call. You are to return to the UMGimmediately. I’ll inform MI6 of the situation.”
“Yes, sir,” Oliver said, already throwing himself into the driver’s seat of his car.
If asked, he would say he didn’t remember the drive from his home to the UMG. It felt as if he blinked, and instead of staring at the garage door attached to his home, he was staring at the concrete wall of a parking spot at the UMG.
Taking a deep breath, Oliver pried his hands off the steering wheel and got out of the car. He made his way at a run toward the lift that would take him up to the command level. The doors slid open before he got there, and he was a little surprised to find Kyle waiting for him.
“Hey,” Kyle said in a grim voice. “The UMG is recalling every team they can. There’s a restricted access meeting happening right now. I told Chapman I’d come get you.”
Oliver’s stomach knotted to the point he felt he might get sick. “The Reborn IRA took Liam, didn’t they?”
Kyle let the door slide shut before saying, “Command level.”
“Acknowledged,” the AI replied.
“Callahan,” Oliver pressed.
Kyle’s mouth pressed into a grim line. “They took him. CCTV footage shows a woman teleporting in, shooting Liam with what we believe to be a neuro-jammer gun, and then teleporting back out with Liam in her custody.”
Which meant Liam could be anywhere in the world right now and they might never find him.
Bile rose in Oliver’s throat, and he swallowed against it. The ugly, bitter taste of it seeped across his tongue anyway. “Was he the target all along?”
“At this point, the UMG is looking at all possibilities.”
That did little to comfort Oliver. The sense of dread only got worse when Kyle led him off the lift to a conference room that could’ve doubled as a miniature pitch stadium, it was that large. All the seats around the table were either taken by people physically present, or filled with holoscreens showcasing faces from government officials that Oliver was more than familiar with—most importantly Bailey, Chief of MI5, the Prime Minister, the Commissioner of the Police of the Metropolis, the entire Chiefs of Staff Committee, and the queen herself.
Oliver drew to attention and gave a respectful bow of his head to the queen. “Your Majesty.”
Queen Mary gave him a slight nod in response, her severe expression unchanging. “Agent Archer. Chief Chapman informs me you were the last person to speak to my grandson.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Kyle touched his elbow and led the way to a pair of empty seats between Jamie and Samaira. Liam’s team was part of the meeting, and all of them were tight-lipped and grim-faced. It seemed to be a running emotional theme for everyone in the room.
Oliver logged into the terminal before pressing his hand and wrist against the embedded computer screen. He synced his bioware to the computer, retrieved the call with Liam from the log bank, and sent it into the shared databank. When the control window dropped down on his terminal’s screen, Oliver didn’t hesitate to hit theplayicon.
The brief conversation between him and Liam played for everyone to hear. Oliver made sure his expression didn’t change, hoping that none of the powerful people gathered around the table would ask what, exactly, he and Liam had been referring to in their conversation.
When the accident happened, Oliver clenched his teeth against the terrible sound of crunching metal and Liam’s punched out, wordless yell. His gaze was riveted on the CCTV footage playing in coordination with the call. The sight of the truck purposefully bearing down on Liam’s car, striking it, and sending it careening across the lanes of the bridge, left Oliver wanting to murder someone.
“Is the driver in custody?” the queen asked once the call finished and the CCTV feed was paused.
“He tried to flee but was apprehended,” Chapman replied. “Caleb Gibbons isn’t talking, but his record gave us enough information to infer from. We’d get further if we were allowed to have a telepath scan his mind and scan for Colonel Wessex.”
“Get Parliament to approve it,” the queen said, staring at her Prime Minister.
