It was enough to bring me back to reality, though, and I peered at the others in the room. Only one of them was wearing a suit, I noticed. The rest were dressed as if they were running a raid on a drug house, down to flak jackets and pants. The lights had come on, and I could see the reflective letters on the arms of their outfits, and I felt my stomach drop to my toes.
“Why…is the FBI here?” I croaked, wincing as someone tightened what were probably zip ties around my wrists.
“Walker Rhodes, you are under arrest on suspicion of espionage and treason,” the man in the suit said, glaring down at me. “Cayden Wilcom you are?—”
“Remaining here,” the dark-haired man said firmly, and I could see every head turn toward him. “You were warned, Agent Smith, repeatedly. You insisted on doing this your way, and this is the result. The fault for this mess lies on your shoulders, not his, nor ours.”
Agent Smith stiffened. “Mr. Shepherd, I understand?—”
“Nothing,” the man who was apparently the head honcho of Arete said coolly. “I did not give you any trouble when you showed up with your warrant?—”
“That you delayed us by insisting on reading it.”
Reggie glared, but Mr. Shepherd put a hand on his elbow, silencing him before continuing. “Which is well within our legal right. More so, it’s our moral duty to ensure you’re operating within the parameters of the law. The men here seek sanctuary from the world, where they can heal and rest in peace without federal agents bursting in to disrupt that.”
“Can we talk about these charges?” Walker grumbled from the wall. “When the hell did I?—”
“Walker?” Reggie piped up, glancing at him.
“What?”
“You’re under arrest by the US government. You have the right to remain silent.”
“Right, can and will be used against me.”
“Exactly, maybe use that right until you’ve got a lawyer.”
“Right,” Walker repeated, looking at me. Despite his flippant attitude and half-joking tone, his eyes were pleading and fearful. I knew he wasn’t asking for my help; he was asking menot tobecause my help had already resulted in me attacking federal agents blindly and ending up tased and tied down on the floor. Jesus, they had even tied my ankles; when did that happen?
The agent in charge gritted his teeth and nodded toward the men who half dragged, half walked Walker out of the room, but at least they’d got some pants on him. My breath shook as I watched him go. “God, put a coat or something on him, Walker!”
“I’m sorry,” he said as he left, and my throat felt like it was going to close and never open again the minute he was out of sight, and I realized I didn’t know when I would ever see him again.
“Oh God,” I gasped, pressing my forehead against the floor.
“You burst into a room that you knew contained a former soldier diagnosed with PTSD with a history of violent, defensive behavior,” Mr. Shepherd continued, and I had forgotten all about that diagnosis. It had been a year after I’d been discharged from the Army. It hadn’t seemed important back then because, hell, who wouldn’t end up with issues after everything I’d seen and done? And it seemed even more unimportant now because Walker was going to be locked away in some federal prison and me…God, I was probably going to go too. “This despite the offers that Reggie and I both gave to ensure this went smoothly and with no need to cause a massive amount of disruption.”
“He attacked my men,” Agent Smith said, and even I could hear he was trying to inject the authority invested in him by the federal government into his voice. There was a problem, though, which even I could see with only half my attention on the conversation and my heart breaking in my chest. Agent Smith’s authority came from something outside himself, but Mr. Shepherd’s authority came from within. “Which, no matter the reasoning or the motivation, is still a crime.”
“And you’re within your rights to charge him and take him in,” Mr. Shepherd said in that same cool tone. “I cannot stop you. I will, however, remind you of the impulsive and unnecessary accusation you threw my way when I insisted on reading the warrant before I cooperated. I was not using my‘pull’ as you put it to stop you from doing what was within the warrant, but I am not afraid to do so to maintain the peace and security of this resort. A peace and security that you have clumsily stomped all over with your amateur arrogance and brutishness.”
“Marc,” Reggie muttered in a low voice of warning, but when I picked my head up, I could see Mr. Shepherd was still radiating that aura of complete control and authority, while the agent in charge just looked…pissed.
Agent Smith scowled, looking down at me and then back at Mr. Shepherd. “Birds of a feather, eh?”
“No,” Mr. Shepherd said disdainfully. “But just as you take your job and duty seriously, so too do I. These men are here under my protection, and I will do what is necessary to protect them.”
“Fine,” Agent Smith said, but the word was spat out as if it were venomous. “But don’t think I won’t make a few calls of my own. You three have a good night…or morning, I guess.”
“You as well,” Mr. Shepherd said, and then held his hand out toward one of the departing armed agents. “If you would.”
The agent hesitated before looking down at me and grunting, handing something to Mr. Shepherd, who stepped out of the way and let the agents leave. While Agent Smith met Mr. Shepherd’s eyes as they passed one another, Reggie snatched what was in Mr. Shepherd’s hand and darted over to me.
“Cade, I’m so sorry,” he said softly, and I felt the ties on my wrists break as he used what appeared to be some sort of tool to cut me free. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“Ya couldn’t do anythin’,” I told him. I couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be comforting or accusing, and it didn’t matter. “Thank ya, Mr. Shepherd. Ain’t gonna do me much good, but I guess my parents will be happy I wasn’t taken in for attackin’ the government.”
“I think you can safely call me Marc,” he said as he stepped into the room and closed the door. “Reggie?”
