Prime Minister Annette Dewald didn’t wilt beneath that glare, but it was close. “There is no guarantee Colonel Wessex remains in London. A wide-ranging telepathic scan is for national emergencies only.”
“Do you think the kidnapping of my grandson, who is a metahuman, a high-ranking military man, with access to Eyes Only government information integral to the safety of our borders and people, does not constitute one?”
The Prime Minister cleared her throat. “I’ll bring the situation up with Parliament. We still need to address your safety, ma’am.”
“I was not the one kidnapped by the enemy.”
“The Reborn IRA has taken Colonel Wessex captive. We can’t rule out they may try to gain more leverage by coming after the rest of the royal family. We want to restrict all of you to Buckingham Palace and Kensington Palace, with shields raised, and armed UMG agents onsite for protection,” Chapman said.
The queen’s expression never changed. “I refuse to hide from the enemy. I never did before, I will not do so now, not when the rest of our citizens will be fair game out in the open.”
“The rest of the citizens are not you, ma’am. Keeping you safe and out of reach will remove one more way for the Reborn IRA to gain leverage. They have enough as it is with Colonel Wessex. Please. Allow us to do our jobs.”
Oliver wasn’t sure if the queen would agree, but she inevitably did.
“Very well. The royal family will remain behind shields. We cannot remain there for a long period of time. It is not feasible.”
Chapman inclined his head. “We will do everything in our power to retrieve Colonel Wessex and remove the threat.”
The queen nodded slightly. “Where will you start?”
Oliver focused on the conversation at hand as the people in power worked to create a viable rescue plan. Ultimately, it hinged on an emergency session in Parliament, a tacit understanding that a telepathic scan would happen with or without government approval, and UMG teams ready to be deployed at a moment’s notice.
He wasn’t sure it would be enough.
From his briefings, Oliver knew teleporters could appear anywhere in the world, so long as they had been there before. Liam could be anywhere.
Oliver tried not to think about him being dead, but it was a fear that grew teeth, latched onto his heart and mind, and wouldn’t let him go.
* * *
The UMGand the royal family couldn’t keep news of Liam’s kidnapping a secret forever. They were lucky they managed five hours before the news streams blew up about it. Word leaked out somehow—Chapman was furious about that—but what was done was done. The country and world knew the Reborn IRA had taken Liam hostage, and the public fury on behalf of Liam was the only good thing in the whole bloody mess Oliver could see.
The royal family orbited a crown that was a figurehead in the grand scheme of how Britain was run. Approval of the monarchy came and went, but an attack on the one member who had risked his life on the front lines, nearly died for his country, and then kept fighting was enough to rally almost everyone into agreement.
The public’s fury over the assault and kidnapping meant Parliament had the cover to push through the approval for a wide telepathic scan. The vote happened first thing the next morning, and Oliver watched the vote count on a screen in the UMG’s war room. Few MPs voted against the motion.
The result freed the UMG’s few telepaths to exercise their power however they saw fit to find one of their own. It also gave approval for foreign telepaths to exercise their power on British soil under UMG authority. Discretion was up to the chief and no one else.
Oliver, not being a metahuman, was relegated to the sidelines, and he felt utterly fuckinguseless.
He retained his liaison status between the UMG and MI6, but Bailey had sent over several senior agents whose decisions took precedence over his. Oliver would’ve been pushed out of command decisions entirely if Kyle and Jamie hadn’t taken it upon themselves to bring him along whenever a meeting happened. Oliver hadn’t slept last night, and his eyes were gritty in a way that hurt with every blink.
He’d tried to take a kip in an unused office on a lower floor earlier, but every time he’d closed his eyes, he’d heard Liam scream.
An hour after the vote, Kyle popped up seemingly out of nowhere, grabbing Oliver by the elbow to catch his attention.
“Hey. We gotta go.” Hope made Oliver’s heart speed up, but it was quickly dashed when Kyle shook his head. “No news, ransom or otherwise. Jamie’s stuck in a meeting with the president and MDF director, and I need a ride to our house in Kensington.”
“I doubt the Reborn IRA will issue a ransom,” Oliver said.
“Yeah, I’m trying not to think about that. Come on, let’s go.”
“Don’t you have a security detail to chauffeur you about?”
Kyle arched an eyebrow. “The Secret Service isn’t allowed to step foot into UMG headquarters. They aren’t cleared.”
“Yet here you are.”
