***
Michael’s phone buzzed just as he broke through the surprisingly heavy traffic of the beltway and headed south down I-95.He was about forty-five minutes from Quantico now.He glanced at his clock and cursed.He was an hour behind schedule.Not that it likely mattered, but considering the massive pile of shit David had stepped into, it made Michael nervous.
His phone buzzed again, and he pressed the talk button on his car so he could speak with the caller over Bluetooth and not give some overzealous state trooper a chance to write a ticket.“Prince.What’s going on, Hozier?”
Markham Hozier was the Special Agent-in-Charge of the Washington, D.C.field office.He was a colossal prick and so by-the-book he probably slept with a copy of it hugged to his chest, but he was far enough away that Michael could manage to be polite to him the few times they were forced to interact with each other.
“Did you hear about the break-in at the FBI Academy?”
Michael’s blood ran cold.“No.What happened?”
"Someone threw cherry bombs over the north wall, and while the security team responded, someone else broke into the K9 School.Looks like they broke a stained-glass piece and broke into the veterinary office, but didn't take anything."
A tremor ran through Michael, powerful enough that his Grand Wagoneer swerved a little before he got himself under control.God damn it.“Did they catch the people responsible?”
“No.They’re pretty sure it was some college kids pulling a very ill-advised prank.I just thought you might have heard something from Agent Bold.”
“No, she’s out of town on assignment.”
“Oh, that’s right.She’s with Torres in Texas.Someone’s knocking people off at animal shelters.”
Jesus Christ, Hozier, how do you now know where your agents are?
Hozier's incompetence, or laziness, or whatever it was, placed very low on Michael's list of priorities right now.He needed to be in contact with David ASA-fucking yesterday."Hey, Hozier, I'm on the road right now, and traffic's being a bitch, so I'm gonna let you go, but keep me posted, yeah?"
“Yeah, sure thing.Later, Prince.”
Michael hung up and immediately said, “Jeep, call David.”
“Taking you to David’s Deli in Falls Church, Virginia.”
“No,call David.”
“David is a given name of Hebrew origin, popular among Western nations for its Biblical associations—”
“Jeep, call Doctor… Fuck it.”
He reached for his phone, tapping the voice assistant away before the AI could tell Michael what it thought Dr.Fuckit was.He dialed David’s number and pressed the call button, then placed his phone back on the charging pad with another curse.“Goddamned useless AI.”
The phone rang.And rang.And rang.Michael’s shoulders slumped, and he whined inwardly,Come on.Seriously?
“Hello!”David said cheerfully.
“Oh, thank God,” Michael gushed.“David, where are you right—”
“You’ve reached Dr.Friedman.If you meant to call my office, the phone number is—”
Michael lifted his right hand, clenched it into a fist, and counted to three before slowly lowering it back to the steering wheel.The last time he’d lost control and slammed the steering wheel, he’d broken it and had to pay Jeep nine thousand dollars to fix it.He really didn’t want to do that again.
He hung up and tried again.When he got voicemail a second time, he resigned himself to the growing clusterfuck this was turning out to be and waited for the beep.As soon as it arrived, he said, “David, wherever you are right now, get in your car and drive.It doesn’t matter where.As soon as you’re in your car and on the road, call me.Do this immediately.”
He hung up, took a deep breath, and pushed air through his nose.He thought for a moment and decided a voicemail wasn't enough.If David were in trouble, he wouldn't be able to answer, and if Michael floundered around Quantico looking for him at his house or the FBI Academy, he would just waste time.The phone rang, so it was still on, which meant he could track it.
He pulled to the side of the road and activated the FBI tablet bolted to the passenger side dash.He punched David’s number into the cell phone tracker and waited while the system triangulated the signal.When it popped up, and Michael saw where David was, his heart dropped to his feet again.“Oh, God damn it, David.”
He hit the gas, and the massive SUV rocketed forward.The Jeep was bigger than some continents, but it had a powerful engine and hit sixty miles per hour in under five seconds, as fast as some sports cars.There were very few situations where Michael would ever drive the big SUV that fast, but this was one of them.
He didn't have police lights on this vehicle, so he'd just have to hope the State Police were elsewhere tonight.He tapped the steering wheel, glanced at the GPS, which helpfully told him he was forty-two minutes from his destination.
