Generation Lost (Gray Wolf Security #17)

CHAPTER THIRTY

“My apologies, General, but the POTUS is on the secure line demanding to speak with you. Something about finding these men and arresting them.”

“Stay right here, boys. I want him to see that you’re here,” said the General. “Mr. President, I’m in a meeting. How can I help you?”

“You tell those son-of-a-bitches they’re dead!” he screamed. The general gave a smirk to the three men as they stared at the screen.

“Mr. President, we get that you don’t like us much, but what have we done now other than being in your city?” asked Nine.

“You know what you did. You did this! I know you did this, and I want to know where it is. Where is the money? Where are the checks?”

“Sir, we really don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Gaspar. They could hear people shuffling in the background, doors opening and closing. The president placed the call on silent, his lips moving quickly.

“Everyone remember how to read lips?” smirked the general.

“Yes, sir. Damn sure do.”

“We need you here,” he said, coming back live to the screen.

“What do you mean? We are in Washington. You know that,” said Nine.

“No. I need you here! We’ve got terrorists attempting to break the gates of the White House. I need extra security, now!”

“Sir, you’re the fucking POTUS. You’ve got more security than the three of us could manage. Call your Secret Service, call the Army, call whoever you need to. They’ll come and get you.”

“I hate you! I hate you all!”

The general raised a brow at the black screen and looked at the three men.

“Wanna tell me what that was all about?”

“You might want a beer for this one, general,” smiled Ian.

“Where did he go? Where’s that fucker, Bodwick!” he screamed.

“I don’t know, sir. He was just here,” said one of the men.

“You idiot! He’s a former president. He knows all the secret doors and hallways! Never mind. I don’t have time to look for him right now. We have to leave.”

“They’re holding some interesting signs out there, sir,” said one of the Secret Service agents. “What do they mean?”

“Nothing. How would I know?”

“Is it nothing, or how would you know? Sir.”

“You protect me! You report to me! Get me out of here,” he screamed. The agent nodded, looking at the others in the room.

“Alright, sir, we’ll get you out of here.”

Using some of the same passages that Michael had used, they took the POTUS through the tunnels and out behind the White House. As the black SUV pulled up, he was shoved into the backseat, and the vehicle took off.

Straightening his tie, he leaned back with relief. It was all too short-lived. When the two men in the front seat turned to look at him.

“Afternoon,” smiled Tailor. “Fine day for a ride, don’t you think?”

“Who are you? Who the hell are you?”

“My mama doesn’t like cussin’,” said Alec. “Please keep your potty mouth to yourself.”

From the third row, he felt the stick of a needle, and then everything went dark. A little while later, he looked up to see lights above him and people murmuring.

“Wh-where am I?”

“Don’t worry, Mr. President, we’ve got you now,” said the general.

“Wh-what are you doing?” He yanked on the restraints, hoping to pull himself free. “What are you doing? I’m the president!”

“Not for long,” said Nine.

Over the next few days, the president’s confession was played over and over again, listing all the men and women involved, including listing off DiBenedetto, St. Pierre, and the others. The manufacturing sites were bombed by U.S. planes, and the casinos were shut down.

The heads of a number of agencies were charged, jailed, and confessions were flowing for leniency. A new president was sworn in, as well as vice president.

“We owe you a lot,” said the general.

“Nope. You owe us nothing,” said Nine. “Just do us a favor. Don’t call us.”

The man laughed, shaking their hands as they boarded their jet. He would be calling them. He should have been calling them more and working more closely with them. He knew better now and would make sure to include them on things in the future. He only hoped they’d be willing.

The auditorium was packed with everyone from Belle Fleur.

“Alright, everyone, settle down,” said Luke. “Dad? You’ve got the floor.”

“We suspected that you all would want to know how everything went down,” grinned Gaspar. “So, let us explain.”

“A few hours before the money was to be picked up, we created some bags of our own. Actually, the kids at the school, Tony, Victoria, and a few others created the bags,” smiled Ghost. “While DiBenedetto and St. Pierre were watching the bags being packed, we had someone waiting with their own cart filled with our bags.”

“Who? How did you get anyone down there?” asked Wilson.

“Simple. Ghost technology.” They all stared at Ghost, then realized what he was talking about. Tony smiled at them, Grip standing beside him.

“Tony stayed in the basement and swapped out the carts. He was able to time it precisely, placing a stealth net over their cart and uncovering ours. It felt like they hit a bump in the road. While they were looking down to see what it was, ta-da! We swapped it out.

“Grip was at the airport swapping out the carts already on the plane. In the other locations, we sent Archie, Nathan, Yori, and Franklin. At each one, they swapped out the bags and sent them on their way.”

“I can’t believe this,” smirked Miller. “You guys did all that?”

“It was fun,” laughed Tony. “Really fun.”

“Tony was in D.C. with us. While Michael was in the oval office, he was at the president’s personal computer and phone, downloading everything we would need to nail his ass to the wall,” said Nine.

“Outstanding, Tony,” said Whiskey.

“Thanks. It felt good to make up for what happened when I, well, when I died.” The others chuckled, nodding their heads.

“There was nothing to make up for, Tony. You’ve always been a huge part of this team, and we love you for it.”

“Thank you, guys. Of course, it was easier knowing that they couldn’t see me and I couldn’t die again.”

Luke, Cam, Eric, and Hex stared at the four older men seated before them. They cocked their heads, giving them a disbelieving look.

“No offense, Dad, guys, but you’ve said this shit before. You’ll only take certain cases. The slumlord, the guy out to get the little man. We’ve heard this before,” said Luke. “Don’t get us wrong. We love seeing you guys so active. It gives us hope for our old age.”

“Asshole,” muttered Gaspar. “You are old, you little shit! Your sons will be sitting there soon enough.” That brought a frown to their faces, staring at the elder statesmen.

“Listen, we’re fine with whatever you guys want to do, you know that,” said Eric. “But what’s this about not taking cases for the government any longer?”

“We’ve been fucked over, time and time again,” said Ian. “We’re not taking them any longer. If you guys want to, great. But we’re out on that.”

“Actually,” said Hex. “We’ve had a few conversations along this line as well. If we don’t take cases from them, we don’t have to worry about going after people like the ones we just took down and asking for permission. We do what we want when we want.”

“That was the goal all along,” said Ghost. “We didn’t want all the bureaucracy.”

“How many contracts do we currently have with the government?” asked Nine.

“We just met with G.R.I.P. about this,” said Luke. “We have three active contracts providing vests, one of the long-range rifles, and a comms system. All of them are three generations old compared to what we use, and all of them are going to expire in the next twelve months.”

“And what’s your plan?” asked Ian.

“We’re not renewing the contracts,” said Eric. “We have good enough relationships with the people we need to have relationships with that we don’t need to worry about contracts. If they need something, they know how to contact us.”

“Hot damn,” muttered Nine. “We might finally be free of Uncle Sam.”

“Don’t say that too loud,” smirked Eric. “He always seems to find a way to get to us.”