After Dawn (Book 3 of the Into the Shadows Trilogy) (18 page)

Paivi pushed into his mind again, on the off chance that he wasn’t guarded in his nervous state.

His eyes finally returned her stare. “I thought I told you to stop that. Don’t do it again.”

“Or what?”

He scowled at her and said nothing. The limo pulled into a parking lot in front of a strip of stores. Martin climbed out in front of her and Paivi followed, stretching after she exited the limo. A man in a black suit, with an earpiece in his ear, stepped out of the front passenger seat and fell in behind Paivi.

Paivi looked over her shoulder. Her heart beat a little faster. She pushed the energy down as it bubbled underneath.

Two other men in black exited the car behind theirs and joined their group.

“What? Stevens didn’t want to come to the fashion show?” Paivi snapped as they stopped in front of a locked door. The store was dark behind it. “It’s not even open.”

“It will be.” Martin knocked on the door and the lights flickered once and came on.

A woman in a narrow skirt and silk blouse marched toward the door. Her high heels stabbed the carpet as she crossed it. Her eyes roved over Paivi and her sweatpants as she unlocked the door. She stepped aside to allow the small entourage to enter.

“What have we here?” The woman stared at Martin, her mouth pressed into a firm line.

“Classified. Just make it look...,” Martin gestured to her outfit, “not like that.”

Paivi followed Martin in and stood next to him. She shifted from one foot to another. She hadn’t been in an American store in a very long time. The last shopping she had done was with Sterling when they arrived in Mexico. It was a million years ago. A lifetime ago. Paivi wondered just how many lifetimes she would live in this one. It was already one too many.

“Put her in the dressing room. I’ll get her sorted out.” The woman waved to the back of the store.

“Make it quick. She has an important appointment in an hour.”

*

The limo halted in front of the gleaming white U.S. Capitol building. Paivi stopped fiddling with the new pants to stare out the window. The white marble dome rose high above them. If only she was there as a normal kid, as a tourist who could wander the halls and admire the beauty around her.

But she was not a normal kid. And this was not a friendly visit.

Martin flung the door open and exited the limo. Men and women in suits rushed all around them, mobile phones stuck to their ears. They paid no attention to Paivi’s group.

Paivi crawled out behind him. The black-suited men from the other cars joined them, awaiting Martin’s orders.

He turned to look at Paivi, eyeing her new black pants and silky light blue shirt. Her feet were uncomfortable in the black ballet flats. The saleswoman had shoved them on. The pants clung desperately to her body, but there wasn’t much to hang onto. Camp life had taken a physical toll as well. She brushed absently at her hair but was careful to keep her hands from her neck. The saleswoman had applied a generous layer of cover-up to it, which failed to match her dark skin. She was tempted to rub it off, but didn’t want to anger them.

“You look good,” Martin said.

Paivi met his eye. She didn’t care if she looked good. She was walking to her death. She could have been in a hot pink prom dress and it wouldn’t have mattered. She hoped her mom would bury her in something nice. Not like this. It wasn’t her. Paivi’s eyes bored into Martin’s. He stared back. Words popped into her head.

I’m sorry.

Paivi’s eyes went wide.

Martin spun on his heel and led the group to a set of white marble steps that led into the Capitol’s rotunda.

They passed through the doors and Paivi’s breath caught in her throat. The ceiling soared above them. There was no time to admire the frescoes in the dome. They sped across the polished marble floor, past pillars and statues of great American statesmen. Martin led them down a corridor to the right. The clicking of their shoes echoed off the walls around them. People shuffled past, giving them dirty glances for taking up the middle of the hallway.

The corridor ended at a set of 12-foot oak doors. Above it printed in gold letters read
Senate Chamber
. A guard in a navy blue suit sat at a desk to the left of the doors.

Martin held up his hand and Paivi and her escorts stopped behind him. Paivi looked to the right and noticed a crowd building at the end of another hall. A large group of ATC agents were moving toward them. Their silver badges gleamed in the light of the chandeliers that hung above their heads. Each ATC agent carried a large weapon. She could barely make out Wendell Stevens in their midst.

Her heart jumped into her chest. Needles of cold sweat slithered down her spine.

This was it.

Her stomach twisted as the energy bubbled at her core. She could feel the heat of it inch over her skin.

The guard jumped up, alarmed. His voice shook. “Mr. President, what an honor. I’m afraid the Senate is in session at the moment. They’re not to be disturbed.”

The ATC agents at the front of the group stepped aside and Wendell Stevens made his way to the front of his protective circle.

“Nonsense,” Stevens shouted. “We’ll be going in now whether they like it or not. I am president of this damned country and I can go where I please.”

The ATC agent nearest the doors pushed the Capitol security guard roughly out of the way.

Stevens turned to Martin, but looked past him, locking eyes on Paivi. “Let’s go. You, there, stand next to me. And remember my promise.” His mouth curved into a terrible smile.

Two ATC agents pulled open the doors and cleared the way for them to enter. Shouts echoed through the Senate Chamber as Wendell Stevens marched next to Paivi down the aisle into the cavernous room. To the right and left, puzzled faces of men and women in suits swiveled toward them.

Paivi’s heart raced as they reached the center of the floor. Above them, in the balcony, curious onlookers and press leaned over the edge. Cameras swung in their direction. A lighted board hung above them.
Amendment 25
stood in lights and underneath were the categories yay and nay. Beneath that it was blank. They hadn’t come to a vote yet.

A man rose from the elevated podium at the front of the room. He wore a navy blue suit with a red tie and white shirt. His hands gripped the wooden railing in front of him. His brow was knit into an angry line. “Mr. President? What is the meaning of this? You can’t just barge in here. We’re in session regarding Amendment 25. You are well aware of that.”

Stevens looked up at Chuck Zavala, President of the Senate, who stood above him. A blond woman jumped up next to him so fast Paivi could swear she sat on a tack. Her mouth was pressed into a firm line and she smoothed her red suit.

Stevens glared at her.

He spun to face the Senate. His ATC guards lined the aisles and stood at attention. He grabbed Paivi’s arm and turned her toward the Senate, but released her arm quickly as if he’d received an electric shock.

Paivi was sure he didn’t want to touch her. To him, she was dirt. Disgusting. Less than human. His captive animal. The energy surged beneath her skin, which began to glow ever so lightly.

“Considering you’re discussing my current mental state and whether I am competent to continue to hold office, I thought you might want to see me in the flesh.” He waved a chubby arm over his head. “Here I am, of sound body and mind. I am more than capable of handling the responsibilities required of the President of the United States.”

Eyes stared at him. The room was silent as a crypt.

Sweat trickled down Paivi’s back. The silky shirt stuck to her. She missed her grimy EOS camp uniform.

“Wendell, I must insist you leave.” Chuck joined them on the floor of the Senate.

Stevens turned to Chuck and nodded to the board above. “Tell them to vote. Now.”

“But…I,” Chuck stammered.

“I’m not interested in your explanations or any further conversation. Vote now.” Stevens folded his arms. The ATC agents stood, backs straight, and stared at the Senators in their seats.

“You can’t do this, Wendell,” the blond woman called from the podium.

Stevens turned to face her. “Shut up, Susan. Last time I checked, you were vice president. You don’t make the rules. I do.”

Voices rumbled through the Senate floor and the balcony above.

Chuck climbed back to the top of the podium. “May I please have your attention? At the President’s command, you will all vote now on Amendment 25. If you feel that President Stevens is capable of upholding his duties as president, press yay.” He paused and tugged at the collar of his dress shirt. “If you feel he is incapable, press nay.” He pressed a button on his own remote.

A hush fell over the crowd as the Senators picked up handsets that resembled remotes. Paivi could see into the front row. The Senators’ faces were blanched with fear. One Senator’s hand shook as he raised the remote.

The board above them came to life. Lighted numbers flashed as each vote was tallied. Paivi held her breath as the numbers slowed.

Yay. 32.

Nay. 68.

The crowd in the balcony above gasped. Whispers broke out all around the room.

Paivi turned to Stevens, watching his face melt into a frown. He turned a deep shade of red.

“I think you’ve made a mistake,” Stevens said. He spun from the board back to the Senators.

“It’s no mistake, Wendell. You’re not fit for this job.” Susan Morgan stepped down from the podium. “If I’m not mistaken, I’m president now. I think it’s best if you leave. And if not, I’ll have you escorted someplace safe where you can be treated.” She joined Stevens and Paivi on the floor.

Martin stepped up behind Paivi, a mobile phone in his hand. Stevens turned to Paivi, his face contorted in rage.

“Do it. Destroy them. Or I’ll destroy everything you love.”

Paivi looked frantically around her for any sign from the guys that they had saved her mom. No words appeared anywhere.

The energy raced to the edges of her skin. It glowed brighter and brighter.

She took a deep breath and flicked a hand.

The room around them shook. The marble floor rumbled to life beneath their feet and the crystal chandeliers above their heads swung dangerously.

It was time.

Chapter 24

Clouds of dust billowed around the Mexican Army Humvees as they tore across the desert landscape. Torsten bit his nails and stared out the window. The heavy gun in his lap felt out of place. He wasn’t a fighter. He was a healer.

“Do we really think this is going to work? Do you think they’re just going to let us waltz in here and not try to make us look like Swiss cheese?” Torsten asked.

“El Presidente had a phone call from the vice president of the U.S.,” Sterling said, looking back from the front seat of the Humvee.

Lieutenant Fernandez, who had worked with them since they had first met General Ortiz in Mexicali, swung the Humvee around a large hole in the ground.

“Lieutenant Fernandez has the paperwork for us.” Sterling waved a stack of papers over the seatback.

“The vice president? What is she going to do?” Christian asked. He sat next to Torsten in the backseat. Seamus was to his right.