Page 17 of Treachery


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Getting through today will be the first step.

* * *

My father leadsus through security, into an elevator, and down a series of vaguely familiar corridors. I’ve been to the Pentagon a few times during my tenure for the military, including the first time I showed off AX1 to my father and a couple other high-ranking officials. Beforethe Incident.

AX2 hasn’t been here before, and out the corner of my eye, I notice his gaze ever scanning for threats, aware of the unfamiliar surroundings as only an alpha can be. When a door opens ahead of us, he plants a firm hand on my shoulder and takes a half-step to effortlessly shield me, even though my father is already ahead of us.

“General Thompson!” A young man in uniform steps through the door, his eyes lighting up with relief when they land on my father. “Sir, they need you in conference room two. Your presence is required immediately.”

My father frowns. “Now? I’m here to accompany my daughter. Whatever this is, it’ll have to wait.”

The soldier’s eyes widen with the look of panic of a private who realizes he somehow has to force a three-star general to do something he doesn’t want to. “S-Sir. Please. It’s an urgent matter of national security. You’re the only ranking commander on-site.”

“Oh.” My father glances at me over his shoulder, and I recognize the apologetic look on his face all too well. Duty calls. “Addie—”

“It’s fine,” I interrupt him. “I know the way. I’ll see you at home.”

He nods, then looks to AX2. “Do not leave her side, soldier. That’s an order.”

An entirely unnecessary order. AX2 accepts it with a, “Yessir,” nonetheless, and then my father stalks off, followed by the young soldier.

I watch his retreating back for a beat, annoyed with myself for the smolder of resentment in my gut. In reality, it’s a relief I won’t have to talk about what happened to me in front of him.

AX2 shifts by my side, and I turn back around to see a man in a black suit approaching from the opposite direction from where my father disappeared. When he slows to a stop, my alpha companion plants himself fully in front of me.

“Mr. Thompson. Dr. Thompson,” the stranger greets us. “Please, come with me.”

“I don’t need an escort. Meeting room 116 is literally five doors from here.” And I already have one. I glare at AX2’s wide back blocking my view of the newcomer.

“The location for your interview has been moved. If you would both follow me,” the man insists.

“Why wasn’t I informed of this before? “I frown and try to sidestep AX2 so I can look the man in the eye, but the alpha reaches back a hand to grab me by the arm, keeping me in place.

“Identify yourself.” The growl in AX2’s voice makes a shiver travel up my spine. I’ve only ever heard him sound like that once before—when he pinned me by the throat in my own lab.

“There is no threat to your mate, Mr. Thompson.” To his credit, there is only a slight waver in the man’s voice. “It’s a simple change of location. Please, allow me to escort you.”

AX2 releases my arm and takes a step forward. The aggression in his stance is clear even from my vantage point behind him. “Identify yourselfimmediately.This is your final warning.”

“Christ, calm down, soldier. My name is Agent Peter Marsh.” The tremor in his voice is far more pronounced now.

AgentPeter Marsh? I pop my head around AX2’s side and look at the badge he’s holding discreetly at hip height. “NSA?”

He nods once, eyes flicking briefly to me before they return to AX2. “Yes, ma’am. We will be conducting your debriefing.”

This is… unexpected. My father didn’t mention NSA was involved in this, and I’m almost positive he would have, had he known I’d be speaking with them. “Why? And why here?”

“Perfectly valid questions, both of which can be answered in more private surroundings.” He grimaces. I think it’s an attempt at a smile, but his focus is too firmly on AX2’s still aggressive presence to muster.

I hesitate for a second, but we’re in the Pentagon. No one is going to grab me here. I glance up at AX2. No one is going to grab me from anywhere, so long as he’s with me. I don’t allow myself to dwell on the bloom of comfort that thought brings.

“Very well. Let’s hear what the NSA wants.”

NINE

AX2

Agent Marsh leads them past meeting room 116, through a door marked “emergency exit,” up a flight of stairs, and onto what appears to be a deserted floor. However, the low murmur of voices from the occasional unmarked door tells another story.

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