While our relatives weren’t especially powerful in the grand scheme of things, it still didn’t stop others from accusing us of getting where we were because of nepotism.
I could still remember one of our classmates in the academy teasing Zeke because he’d appeared alongside his father during one of his election campaigns a few days before.
Any Secret Service jobs we got there were always a dark cloud hanging over us, reminding us of where we came from. One that continually accused us of not deserving the things we’d worked so hard for, and if I was being completely honest? I wasn’t always 100% sure that Senator Adams and my grandfatherhadn’tstepped in during some situations.
They would never in a million years tell us if they had and that was the worst part of working professionally in this place. Never being sure that the goals you were working toward were achieved by your own merit.
It had soured this place to us and made working abroad with the diplomatic security service and the state department all the more enticing.
Moving back stateside and working within the bounds of the Secret Service again wasn’t ideal, but at this point I wasn’t sure if we had a choice.
Not to mention the tiny voice whispering in my ear that somehow, some way, this seeming promotion hadn’t been earned by us.
“Mav?” Zeke’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts and I blinked up at him. “I asked what you want to do with the rest of our last free day?”
Iwantedto sit on the couch with a beer and catch one of the soccer games on TV. But then my mind went back to the laptop Collier had given me filled with everything I needed to know about Lennon Holloway.
“I’m going to review those files I was talking about and then probably head to bed early,” I finally said with a sigh.
Zeke’s lips pulled up into a cheeky grin as he just shook his head at me. “There’s the workaholic we all know and love. You go do that and I’ll rally the troops and try to get Dallas into a better mood.”
We shot each other mock-salutes before turning to our respective tasks, me sitting at the kitchen island and Zeke disappearing back into the house to find the twins.
Resolving to at least drink a beer, I popped the cap off and opened up the laptop, signing in with my own special login that Collier had given me—completely new thanks to our new positions within the Secret Service. The old information we used when we worked with the DSS would be decommissioned, another lovely fact I hadn’t mentioned to the guys.
I didn’t know how to tell them that, once we finished our current mission, the chances were very high that they would reassign us to someone stateside.
That would have to come later once Dallas had calmed down a bit.
The laptop finally booted up and, as I scrolled through Greg Brady’s files, I realized that Collier had been right. Theywereextensive, and yet so very dry.
Clicking on the entry from the day that he died, I found it started at 0500.
‘Flicker up and in hair and makeup for the day. Spoke on the phone with POTUS.’
Then it went in hourly increments until around the early afternoon.
‘Flicker en route to DNC dinner, accompanied by Alivia Powell. Expected to arrive at the hotel by 16:00 and stay until 22:00.’
That was the last entry and the next link was everything that had been gathered about the attack.
On the way back to the White House Lennon Holloway’s armored SUV was rammed into by a reinforced 18-wheeler without the trailer.
From there a fire fight had broken out and Greg Brady and several other agents were killed and many of the others wereinjured, including assistant Alivia Powell who was still on leave due to a broken collar bone from not wearing her seatbelt.
The only reason that the kidnapping attempt had failed was because Lennon Holloway was pinned underneath Brady’s body and was hidden from the would-be kidnappers just long enough for law enforcement to get onto the scene.
None of the kidnappers had been arrested and they fled on motorcycles, evading law enforcement until they seemed to disappear into thin air.
The driver of the eighteen wheeler and several other bodies of masked men had been recovered and all were seemingly normal men—all alphas.
From what I could tell, the angle that Collier was going with was domestic terrorism from one of the red-pilled alpha groups that had been on the rise in recent years.
Lennon Holloway had often spoken out against such groups, making her a target.
It seemed cut and dry, but as I looked at all of the information it just didn’t add up.
Greg Brady was infuriatingly by the book. He wouldn’t do anything if it would risk Lennon’s safety, so how had anyone gotten her location in the first place? Especially considering they had changed course from their original destination to a local ice cream shop far out of the way of their route back to the White House.
