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“Thought you might want to see this.” Susan Mackenzie stepped in front of where Diana and I stood, blocking sight of the podium.
“What is it?” Diana asked, accepting her mother’s phone when she’d yet to accept any of her mother’s apologies to me in the last week.
Diana had told her mother she’d have to do better. Be better. Beg on her hands and knees to me before she’d forgive her. Said as much to her dad as well, while I’d quietly listened to her grill them both, first virtually over a web camera and then in person today.
My sweet angel, wanting to fight my battles for me (and with me).
“It’s a breaking news story,” her father shared before her mother could.
Keeping hold of my hand, Diana pressed play with the other.
“The billionaire Novak family . . .” I barely registered the reporter’s words, only catching a few select sound bites. “Responsible for the deaths of the Barclays . . . Carter Dominick’s late wife, Rebecca, killed by Andrew Cutter because of . . .” More words. More explanations. Shocking details I’d had no clue would be aired. “Carter Dominick has been cleared of all charges related to his wife’s death.”
No mention of Craig Paulsen. Good. Per my request, he was still in the custody of Secret Service and had yet to be relocated. I had a feeling he knew something helpful, and I’d be the one to get it from him.
“You did this?” Diana pointed at the screen as her mom pulled the phone back. “You made sure the truth got out?”
“We had the President’s permission, of course.” Her mom returned her phone to her purse before Diana pulled her hand from mine and hugged her mother. Then father.
“Thank you.” Diana faced me, and I wrapped my arms around her waist as she hugged me next. “Are you okay?”
Was I relieved my name was cleared? Sure. That the case surrounding Rebecca’s death was finally closed? Definitely. I wanted to be fine and really mean it, but until Diana was safe, I was far from it. “I’ll be good once we’re back out of the country.” I knew there wouldn’t be an attack against us so out in the open, especially not on the White House lawn. But Diana was still vulnerable, and I’d never be “fine” until I could guarantee her safety.
Wild enough, it wasn’t criminals or the underground world I was worried about. I’d already put word out Diana was off-limits, and Sebastian ensured that message made its way through his parts of the world, too. Fuck with me and mine, fuck with him and the McGregors. Message received in all languages.
It was The Collective, the faceless and nameless group of people hiding somewhere in plain sight (and behind their wealth), masking as “good,” that had me terrified.
I hooked my arm behind Diana’s back, catching sight of Griffin, Gray, Natasha, and Camila now arriving with Secretary Chandler. We were separated by the podium and the press, so we’d have to talk after the speech.
With the threat neutralized on election day, everyone on Falcon, as well as the President’s SEAL Teams, had returned home.
My girl, my angel, my soon-to-be wife, had saved us. The ninety-four percent probability had turned into a hundred percent at precisely 14:05 on Tuesday, November the 5th. Crisis averted. The EMP weapon had been stopped. The pulse was diverted to space as Diana had planned, and by some miracle, missed hitting any satellites.
That’d been one of the longest days of my life, and for everyone on Falcon, as we spent the day video conferencing from our separate locations, waiting and wondering.
As a precaution, the President had grounded all incoming and outgoing flights in the area that day, not wanting to take any chances of a crash if the EMP weapon had been successful.
The President had opted to stay in the White House. “If the ship goes down, I’ll be going down with it,” he’d said, and I respected him for that.
Diana had sobbed with relief. Tears of both joy and overall emotion had overwhelmed her after Secretary Chandler had joined our web call to let us know, “Crisis averted. Mission success.”
Now to stop The Collective from ever striking again.
“Any clue what he’s going to say?” I asked Susan, speaking to her directly for the first time since we’d arrived that day. It was as close to an olive branch as she’d be getting from me.
“Maybe,” Susan said, shooting a nervous glance her ex-husband’s way before shielding her eyes.
Real comforting.
“He’s finally talking,” Diana said, covering her mouth with her fist, eyes set on the President at the podium.
Aside from the cameras continuing to click, the outside grew quiet in anticipation of what he planned to say.
Maybe I was a little nervous, too.
“Tuesday, November the fifth, while Americans were voting in the election, the Calvert Cliffs Nuclear Power Plant, despite being on high alert, was overrun and used to launch an attack.” The President had cut right to it, no fucks given for tempering the blow. Gasps fell from the reporters. The camera clicking intensified as he continued, “An electromagnetic pulse weapon was used to target D.C. and surrounding cities. From Baltimore all the way to Richmond.”
I buried my fingers into Diana’s side a bit tighter, drawing her closer to me, doing my best to shut out all other thoughts and focus.
