Destined for Power (18 page)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Mallory walked through the lobby without garnering any attention. It was common for Miss Winters to be going to and fro, so no one paid her a bit of attention. She headed down a side hallway and pulled out the key Reid had given her for the mechanical room. She knocked twice, then opened the door. The Secret Service agent stood inside with his hand on his gun.

“Agent, I’m Winters. Code word,
quack quack
.” Mallory rolled her eyes as the agent grinned. “Agent Wallace assigned me to the air duct inside the ballroom.”

The agent smiled as he watched her undress. “Yeah, Wallace told us. You expecting trouble?” He laughed as she stripped the suit coat and pants she’d used to conceal her weapons and tossed them in an empty box.

“I always expect trouble. It’s why I’m good at my job.” Mallory eyed the large return vent and the ladder already set up for her. She looked at her watch. Ten fifty-one in the morning. What was eight hours in an air duct?

“Has there been any change to the standard operating procedure?” Mallory asked as she started to climb up the ladder.

“Just a little. The prince believes he should have some of our men guarding him, which we agreed to do. That leaves some of the low-priority rooms unprotected. But, that’s all.”

“The restrooms?”

“That’s right. We pulled our two agents from the lobby restrooms. We still have all the agents stationed in the lobby, though.”

Mallory dropped the vent cover to the agent. How could they not listen to her? “I told them the restrooms were high priority.”

“No offense, but Washington was tired of hearing what you, a local non-agent, think. This is a foreign dignitary. When they ask for protection, we give it to them. Enjoy your day, Agent Winters.”

Mallory pulled herself up and began the long crawl to the ballroom. She didn’t need a map this time. She’d studied the whole system enough to know every turn by heart. She heard the vent behind her being sealed before the ladder was removed. As she navigated the ductwork, she pressed her coms. “Bowie, you there?”

“Copy,” her handler responded.

“Where are you?”

“I’m checking all the trucks as they come in to unload the food and decorations.”

“We have a problem. The Secret Service pulled their agents from the restrooms to guard Liam.”

“I know. I tried to get some of my guys on it, but there’s some major dick-swinging going on in DC. The only director who knows what’s going on is ours. The FBI and Secret Service are throwing fits. They don’t want foreign intelligence operating on their turf.”

“I’m starting to hate this super-secret spy shit.”

“True, and we both know the best of operations get blown with this interagency cooperation crap. I swear, no one can keep their mouths shut anymore.”

Mallory agreed. While it would seem better to have all these shared resources, the more people you involved, the more chance of a screw-up. She crawled past the women’s restroom and took a peek through the vent. The remodel was wrapping up. They were scooping up the fake debris and sheets of cardboard into trash cans to make a big show of exiting. The restroom did look nice with its fresh coat of paint and new light fixtures.

“I hope we can end this before lunch,” Mallory whispered as she crossed the ballroom.

“Me, too, but it’s not looking like it. I don’t see anything. It’s a strange feeling, this one.”

“I know what you mean.” Mallory felt the familiar tingle down her spine when she became anxious. “I know I’ve been out of the game for a while, but this is different.”

“Copy that. I have to check another truck. Stay alert and be ready for anything.”

Mallory took the last turn, crawled past the vent, and then slowly turned around in the nearby intersecting ductwork. She was careful not to put too much weight in one place or to knock the walls. She didn’t want anyone to get suspicious and look up. When she finally got in position, she slid forward on her stomach to look out the vent.

Reid stood in the middle of the ballroom with Evelyn. She was directing, and he was nodding. As if feeling her eyes on him, he turned around and looked right at her. It lasted only a split second, but she could tell he knew she was there. He gave another nod and then headed out of the ballroom. He didn’t look up at her as he left.

Reid couldn’t see Mallory, but something told him she was there. He looked at his watch. Eight hours until the candidates arrived. He crossed the lobby and saw the fake construction men clearing out of the restrooms.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Evelyn said as she hurried up behind Reid. “I’ve had so many questions about whether the restrooms would be opening soon or not. That makes tonight much easier.”

“Reid,” a familiar voice called out.

Reid plastered on a smile and tried not to get upset by the way Evelyn started simpering when Liam called out to him and sauntered over.

“Prince Liam. Is there something I can do for you?”

“Why, yes, there is. I am going riding. Join me.”

Reid smiled. Even he wasn’t careless enough to head outdoors right now. Not after multiple attempts to kill him. “I’m so sorry, Prince. I am too busy with preparations for tonight. But, may I recommend you try out Atlas? He’s the best horse in the stables."

“Are you sure? A ride could do you good. Help you relax before the big night,” Liam said as he tried to convince Reid.

Reid smiled tightly. “I’m sure. Thank you, though.”

“I’m sorry for the loss of your company. I shall see you tonight then. And thank you for the suggestion. I will give Atlas a try.”

Liam walked past him and out the door with his entourage trailing behind. A luxury golf cart picked him up to whisk him to the stables.

“Maybe I should help him?” Evelyn asked hopefully.

“I’d be careful of him, Evelyn. He’s not the marrying kind, and I have a feeling you are. Anyway, the linens should be arriving soon. Why don’t you handle that instead?” Reid suggested kindly. Sure, it annoyed him when she flirted. But she didn’t deserve what Liam would dish out. Evelyn sniffed and then nodded before walking quickly to the new restroom to compose herself.

Reid headed to his office but was intercepted by Damien, carrying a bag from Reid’s favorite sandwich shop.

“I know it’s only eleven-thirty, but this is the last chance I’ll be able to eat. I grabbed you a sandwich, too.”

“Thanks, Damien.” Reid unlocked his office and decided Mallory had excellent taste in men, especially since she was now with him.

“No problem.” Damien pulled out a sandwich wrapped in wax paper and set it on the desk. “How are your sisters doing?”

“They’re good. Mallory convinced them to go to the Connecticut compound. I’m sure Elle is madder than a hornet. She doesn’t like to be away from the office much. And Allegra and Finn are still on their honeymoon. Bree and Logan seem to be enjoying their time away from the city, but it’s my mother who has me the most worried. While she’s not at the hotel, she is still in town. She’s checking in on Troy every day and sending me updates.”

“How is he doing?”

“Really well, given the circumstances. He’s improving every day, and they’re even talking about releasing him to a rehabilitation center soon.”

“So you are the last man standing. I bet your mother is on a mission,” Damien chuckled.

Reid laughed before taking a bite of his sandwich. If she were coming, she would introduce him to every single woman or mother of a single woman at the charity event tonight.

“I guess you don’t have to worry about that much longer the way things are going between you and Mallory. How do you think your family will feel about you and Mallory as a couple?” Damien asked interrupting Reid’s nightmare of never-ending ladies being foisted on him.

“I don’t know. I’m thinking of not telling them,” Reid joked. “I just know as soon as I do, they will all warn me not to mess it up. And if I do, I fear they may kick me out of the family and keep Mallory.”

“Good luck with that. Mallory is a wonderful woman.” Damien stood up and tossed the empty wrapper into the trash. “Given what’s going on, keep your office door locked at all times, and no venturing out onto the property.”

“I have a lot of work piling up here. It’ll be another couple of hours before I’m done.”

Damien looked at his watch. “I’ll meet you in the ballroom at five. The string quartet for the lobby should be setting up and the band in the ballroom will have arrived. We can go over everything then.”

“Guests will start arriving in the lobby at six for drinks. The ballroom doors open at seven. Let’s hope this whole thing is over by then. I hate just sitting here, waiting.” Reid crumpled his trash into a tight ball and threw it away. His nerves were shot.

“I do, too. I don’t like feeling helpless while Mallory is up there. It’s why I’m going to head back in, now that I know you’re safely locked up.”

“If you think of anything I can do, please let me know.”

“I will. I’ll see you this evening.”

Reid walked Damien to the door. At each end of the hallway was an armed guard. Between his security guards, the Secret Service, and undercover CIA, he had a sinking feeling nothing was going to happen tonight. And that meant he was going to have to stay in hiding. The air kicked on and blew lightly down from the vent. He wondered how Mallory was doing. He agreed with Damien. There wasn’t anything worse than knowing the woman you love was putting her life in danger for you and all you could do was trust and support her. It didn’t change the fact that he hated it.

* * *

Mallory looked at her watch: 4:45. She rolled over onto her back and did some leg pulses to keep the blood flowing in her body. Her body was stiff, and she was getting very hungry. She’d kept an eye on the ballroom all afternoon. Quite frankly, she was shocked nothing had happened yet. The ballroom was filled with florists, caterers, decorators, and now a band had just arrived to start setting up.

“Checking in.” Bowie’s voice sounded in her ear. “How are you doing?”

“Stretching now. Anything?”

“Negative. And this wig is killing me,” Bowie complained.

“Really? You’ve been wearing it all of a few hours. I’ve been stuck in mine all week. Crybaby,” Mallory teased.

“Damn Liam for showing up,” Bowie muttered.

“You know him really well. What do you think he’s up to?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll be sticking to him like a tick on a deer.”

Mallory rolled back over onto her stomach and looked out at the ballroom. “Someone is testing the microphone at the podium. Make sure you recheck it when they are done.”

“Copy that.”

Five minutes later, Mallory saw Bowie disguised as an older gentleman in overalls approach the stage.

“All clear,” he whispered into the coms. “It’s almost five. Reid will be here soon and the bomb-sniffing dogs will be walking through in a couple minutes. You don’t have any explosives on you, do you?”

“Damn, I knew I forgot something,” Mallory deadpanned.

The ballroom doors opened and slammed shut. A couple of seconds, Mallory saw Reid, Damien, and a dog with its handler walk in. The dog and handler went to work while Reid and Damien walked around the room.

Mallory felt like banging her head on the thin metal. How could this not be over yet? She was so sure the assassin would hide here. This whole thing would be resolved by now. Reid would be safe and she would know whether or not her father was capable of murder.

Mallory fought down her emotions and doubt. She had to trust her training. She had to trust her instincts. If it meant she spent the whole night here making sure Reid was protected, that was what she was going to do.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Reid opened the door to his suite and let Damien walk in first. Damien reappeared a minute later and told him it was safe to enter. He cast a quick glance at the clock. It was five-forty. He had twenty minutes to get dressed and meet the arriving guests.

“Have you talked to Mallory?” he asked Damien, who was unzipping his own garment bag.

“No. Everything is radio silent. I don’t even know where Bowie is. They didn’t want anyone to pick up on their plan. They’re worried any of their communications might get picked up on the coms network by my team, so they are on their own secure channel.”

“I have a bad feeling, Damien. I don’t know why, but I feel as if this whole thing is falling apart.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Damien said as he reached into this garment bag. “That’s why I got you this.”

Reid caught the bulletproof vest Damien tossed at him. “This will look nice under my tux.”

“Yeah, just don’t dance with anyone. They’ll be able to feel it and wonder why you’re wearing it. Now, for tonight’s schedule. We’ve heard from both campaigns. Graham and Orson will arrive at seven o’clock. Westin and Childs will arrive at seven ten. At seven-thirty, you will begin your welcome speech and introduce Graham. Graham will talk for five minutes and introduce the head of the charity. Sandburg will speak and introduce Westin. Westin will talk for five minutes. Sandburg will then make a closing remark and accept your and Liam’s checks. Clapping and then dancing starts.”

“And somewhere during that time, someone gets shot,” Reid said dryly.

“Could be. Let’s hope only Mallory does the shooting.”

Reid closed the door to the living room and undressed. He thought over and over that he was glad he took Mallory's gun. He double-checked it and slid the gun back in place.

* * *

Mallory felt her head sweating under her wig. She was sure the makeup she had on to change her features was running. Both were a hindrance to the job, but she needed to be in disguise when she joined the party, which was in full swing. Graham and Orson had made their entrance and were currently circling of the room. She looked at her watch: seven-ten. Her father would be pulling up to the front door right now.

The ballroom was packed. There were veterans in service uniforms with spouses in formalwear. There were businessmen, philanthropists, and society types all mingling together to raise money for veterans’ needs. Newspaper, television, and magazine reporters took pictures and interviewed the who’s who of local and national fame.

The room erupted into polite applause, and Mallory knew her father and Ambrose had arrived.

Reid didn’t bother shaking hands with Mallory’s father or Ambrose Childs as they strode into the room like a pair of peacocks. The fake “Oh, hello! Good to see you again” look followed by a wave was getting on his nerves.

He also didn’t smile when he saw Shirley wheel into the event with Feng next to her. She spotted Reid and sent him a wink. He watched as they moved to the table nearest the side exit. He’d given orders to his security to take care of them in case anything happened tonight.

Reid smiled to each guest who walked past him and was surprised when he saw Senator Westin heading right toward him, fake smile and all.

“Reid, I need to have a word,” Senator Westin whispered.

“I don’t think so,” Reid smiled back as people pressed in to shake the senator’s hand.

“Where’s Mallory? I need to talk to her. It’s important.”

“Why should I know? Don’t you manage her—telling her who she should marry, that kind of thing?” Reid felt his voice cut into the senator but didn’t care. He forced himself to smile at another patron who passed by.

“You know,” the senator said, surprised.

“Look at the time,” Reid said with a show of looking at his watch. “I need to give a speech.”

Reid headed toward the stage and in his peripheral vision saw Evelyn rounding up the candidates and the head of the charity, Mr. Sandburg. Reid’s heart raced from his talk with Senator Westin. As he approached the stage, he felt his footsteps slow. It was going to happen, and he didn’t know if he’d be able to live through it.

He fought the urge to look up to where Mallory was. Instead he took the black stairs one at a time, each one a step closer to the end of his life. He cast a quick glace behind him to see the other candidates walking a little way behind him. One of them was supposed to die with him.

Mallory pulled her gun from her thigh. She didn’t hear movement, but she sensed it. She focused on controlling her breathing and tuning out the applause. Reid’s voice spoke to the audience, welcoming them to the first event to be held at his new resort.

She closed her eyes and focused on the metal. She felt it. A vibration. She put her finger on the trigger of her gun and slid backward a couple of feet into the
T
intersection in the ductwork. She didn’t want to be a sitting duck for the assassin coming around the corner from the restrooms. It was just like she had thought. So far, so good.

Mallory pressed her com. “We’re a go,” she whispered.

“Copy that. Moving into position,” Bowie whispered back.

Reid smiled and clapped along with the hundreds of people sitting at their tables. The candidates, the prince, and the head of the charity were lined up behind him across the stage. Secret Service flanked the front of the stage.

“Military veterans and their families sacrifice so much . . .” Reid continued with his speech. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw an older man move forward. Reid faltered. Was that him? Was this it? The man gave his head a very tiny shake of his head and a quick glare before casually scanning the audience.

Reid cleared his throat. “As many of you know, Governor Graham proudly served his country for nearly ten years before he decided to run for political office. Please join me in welcoming Governor Graham.”

Reid took a step back and watched Graham step toward him to shake his hand. Reid smiled and shook hands before coming to stand next to Liam. Liam shifted nervously, and Reid had a sinking feeling it was all going to go down tonight after all.

Mallory counted off the seconds it would take for the assassin to make it from the turn in the air duct to be fully visible. Mallory made her move. She pushed herself partially out from the intersection she was hiding behind and aimed her gun.

“Stop where you are,” she said to the figure who surprised her by being just inches from her.

“Or you’ll shoot?” replied the feminine voice. “Oh, please. That’s so dramatic. Besides you’re not the only one with a gun.”

Mallory’s mind raced as she came face to face with the barrel of a gun. The voice of the owner sounded familiar. “Who’s your target?” Mallory asked as they kept their guns aimed at each other in the narrow confines of the air duct.

The woman with red hair just laughed. “Honey, as if I’d tell you. We’re in a bit of a standoff, aren’t we? I must say, I’m surprised, Miss Winters. I thought someone else would be trying to stop me. I’m kinda glad. I liked the other woman, and now I won’t have to kill her.”

Reid stood with his arms behind his back while Governor Graham started his speech. He took a moment to look at the rest of the men on stage. None of them seemed to be worried. None except the man standing next to him. Liam continued to fidget and repeatedly tried to take a step away from Reid. Every time he did so, Reid found a reason to lean over and whisper something to him, moving even closer to Liam’s side.

The old man Reid had spotted earlier in the audience kept moving closer to the steps of the stage. The Secret Service continued looking straight ahead. Damien must have picked up on Reid’s worries, because he saw him moving closer to the vent Mallory was in. Reid looked at his watch. Graham had two more minutes left in his speech—if he lived that long.

Mallory took in the red hair, the full lips, and the tight black dress with two large slits up the sides that allowed access to a knife she saw strapped to the woman’s thigh. She could try to slide back into the intersecting air duct where she just was, but they were too close. The woman would easily be able to fire.

“No so fast, Winters,” she said as she moved to press her gun against the side of the metal. “You move and I shoot. I’m bound to take out some innocent lives. It’s awfully crowded down there. I could maybe even get a whole table by the time your bullet enters my brain. Is your mission really worth that?”

Mallory kept her hand on her gun as she thought about her next move. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

“I like it that way.”

“You seem like a sweet, young girl. Why don’t you just tell me who you were hired to kill. Then we can call it a night.”

“Has that ever worked for—” Mallory didn’t let her finish talking. She made her move. She dropped her gun and lunged forward, grasping the woman’s gun hand. She wrenched back her trigger finger, and the young woman grunted in pain.

The next thing Mallory knew, it felt as if a hammer had been slammed into her chest. She hadn’t seen the woman grab the gun Mallory had tossed aside before the redhead fired it into Mallory’s vest. Mallory’s breath was torn from her body, and she fought the panic of not being able to breathe. She lay helpless on her side, struggling for air, as the assassin opened a leather bag from over her shoulder and pulled out a Corner Shot.

Reid watched the old man in the crowd step closer to the stage until he was right in front of the Secret Service. He saw Damien’s brows furrow as he looked up at the air ducts and talked into his communication device at his wrist. Governor Graham finished his speech and started to step away from the podium. Suddenly there was a loud
crack
and Ambrose crumpled to the ground.

Senator Westin stood staring in shock at his fallen counterpart. Reid knew by Westin’s expression it had to have been Graham or Orson who orchestrated the assassination. Westin was innocent and in danger. Secret Service was scrambling to the stage. The old man pushed his way onto the stage as people screamed in horror and a second shot rang out.

Reid jumped. He saw Senator Westin’s eyes go round as he vaulted toward him. In a split second, Reid felt the impact of the bullet meant for Senator Westin hitting the back of his vest. The force of the shot, combined with his momentum, sent Reid crashing into Westin. The two men slammed onto the floor of the stage at the same time an agent jumped to cover them. The sharp pain hit him with every breath.

Fear for Reid’s safety caused the final adrenaline surge needed to overcome the pain of being shot. Mallory propelled herself forward and grabbed the Corner Shot before the assassin could pull the trigger a third time. Mallory ripped the gun from the woman's hand in a move she was sure broke the woman’s trigger finger.

Mallory tossed the gun behind her and rose up onto her hands and knees to deliver a hard punch to the assassin’s temple. Her face knocked onto the metal floor of the air duct, causing it to shake.

“Who hired you?” Mallory screamed as she grabbed the woman by the shoulders.

“Screw you,” she spat before moving quickly onto all fours in order to grab Mallory by the throat.

Mallory snarled as she wrapped her hand around the assassin’s. She dug her thumb painfully in at the pressure point between the woman’s thumb and index finger. With a flick of Mallory’s wrist, she twisted the woman’s hand from her throat. The woman shouted out in pain as Mallory wrenched her arm.

“Who hired you?” Mallory yelled over the screaming coming from below. She didn’t get a chance to ask again as her world shook and suddenly disappeared from beneath her.

Reid sucked in a painful breath. His rib had to be broken. The Secret Service agent was pulling Senator Westin out from underneath Reid as the old man he saw in the audience was fighting with Liam.

The sounds of metal scraping caught his attention. Was Mallory still alive? He pushed himself up as he saw his answer fall from the sky. The bottom of the air duct fell to the ground, followed by two women.

“Mallory!” Reid called in a panic as he watched her and the redhead who had asked him to dance fall in a tangle of limbs and crash onto a table.

China shattered, food went flying, the table collapsed in broken pieces, and guests who were running for the door screamed in surprise as they saw the weapons strapped to both women.

“Mallory? Where?” Senator Westin asked as he pushed off his security detail. Reid didn’t bother answering but knew when the senator saw who Reid was looking at.

“Help me,” a weak voice said from nearby.

Senator Westin and Reid shot a look at where Ambrose was being dragged past them by two Secret Service agents.

“Senator, we need to go right now.” An agent grabbed the senator and pulled him along the stage.

“No!” Ambrose and Westin yelled.

“Is that really Mallory? We can’t leave her,” Ambrose whispered as blood seeped from the gunshot wound through his right shoulder. He clung to the agents and slowly sat up. “Help me up,” he ordered.

Reid didn’t care about Ambrose. He cared about Damien’s team surrounding Graham and Orson. And he was worried about the redhead climbing on top of Mallory.