Page 2 of State of Retribution (First Family #9)

T he reports were surreal. Fourteen drones had been recovered, equipped with semiautomatic weapons that, had the drones made it through the robust layers of security, could’ve killed scores of people gathered for a fun and joyful event at the White House.

Everyone Nick loved might’ve been killed in the effort to get to him.

No one had claimed responsibility as of yet, and the investigation was in the earliest stages. His intelligence team was working as fast as they could to gather data and trace the origin of the devices.

From his vantage point at the head of the table, Nick eyed the others. Teresa Howard, the National Security Advisor he’d inherited from President Nelson, and Defense Secretary Tobias Jennings, also inherited. Nick liked and trusted them and planned to retain them in their roles going forward.

Admiral Forrest Malin, the new chair of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, replacing General Michael Wilson, who, along with other members of the Joint Chiefs, had betrayed Nick—and the Constitution—so flagrantly.

Grace Crowley, acting head of the National Intelligence Agency, whose permanent appointment was pending before the Senate. She was one of the people retired Senator Graham O’Connor, Nick’s friend and mentor, had recommended.

They were in the process of putting together their own team, mostly from Graham’s deep stable of contacts and trusted allies.

Vice President Gretchen Henderson, Nick’s choice to fill the role he’d vacated after he was promoted, was asking all the right questions and demanding fast action from subordinates.

She and her teenage children had been on the South Lawn during the Egg Roll, and she was clearly rattled by the day’s events and the understanding of what could’ve happened.

Hours after being hustled off the South Lawn, they still had no idea where the drones had come from. It was easy to lose track of time in the windowless Situation Room under the glow of fluorescent lights.

“The first two that were recovered have no identifying marks,” FBI Director Sally Monroe said. Nelson had appointed her to a ten-year term following the murder of the previous director, Troy Hamilton. “No brand-name components or serial numbers. It’s possible they were homemade.”

“And still no claim of responsibility?” Secret Service Director Ambrose Pierce asked.

“Nothing yet,” Crowley said. “We’ve picked up no chatter or any indication something like this was in the works, which we normally would’ve if they were sent by known terrorist groups.”

They were spinning their wheels at this point, and Nick had heard enough. When he stood, everyone else did, too. “I’m going upstairs,” he said to his chief of staff, Terry O’Connor. “Keep me in the loop on any developments.”

“Yes, sir.”

He left the room, feeling frustrated, disgusted and unsettled.

All the systems in place to protect the nation’s capital had held that day, but this was a daunting reminder of the many threats of violence against the government.

As the CEO of that government, he was the main target, but a mass casualty incident on the lawn of the White House would’ve had the desired effect of causing chaos, even if he hadn’t been one of the victims.

That one of his family members could’ve been killed made him sick. Scotty, Aubrey, Alden, Elijah, his little brothers, Sam’s nieces and nephews and many other family members and close friends, all of them so dear to him and Sam, had been in grave danger that day because of him.

Because he held the highest office in the land. Because he’d inherited it, rather than winning it in an election. Because he was the youngest president in history. Because they didn’t agree with the way he did the job.

Who knew which of those things had motivated someone to fly drones armed with semiautomatic weapons into the National Capital Region’s airspace? Who knew what motivated anyone to do such a thing?

With Brant by his side, he trudged up the stairs to the residence, eager to see Sam and hopefully tuck the kids in if they were still up.

“Thank you for everything today, Brant. Please pass along my thanks to the other agents as well. We appreciate everything you do to keep us safe.”

“I’ll tell them, sir. We’re all thankful the incident was neutralized before anyone was hurt or worse.”

“I don’t like the feel of this. Not one bit.”

“I don’t either, sir. It’s unsettling, to say the least.”

“Can you please let me know that we’re on for normal operations tomorrow for Sam and the kids?”

“I’ll confirm that and call you when I know, sir.”

“After that, go home and get some rest. I have a feeling we’re in for some long days around here.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll see you in the morning.”

They parted company at the top of the stairs, where Melinda, one of the other agents on Nick’s detail, stood ready to take over.

“Evening, Mr. President.”

“Hi there, Melinda.”

“Are you home for the night, sir?”

“I am.”

“Very good. Thank you. Have a good evening.”

As if that was likely after this day. “You do the same.” As he walked down the red-carpeted hallway toward “home,” he tugged at his tie and released the top button of his dress shirt.

He’d come upstairs to change out of the casual clothing he’d worn to the Egg Roll so he could address the nation about the day’s events looking like the president rather than a dad who’d been enjoying an event with his kids and hundreds of other children until terrorists came to call.

Today was supposed to have been one of the rare “fun” days, when he was able to entertain family and friends as well as the public for an annual event everyone enjoyed.

Even the fun days sucked in this place. In the nearly five months since he’d become the president, Nick had worked hard to remain positive and optimistic, even in the face of never-ending challenges, relentless scrutiny and baseless accusations that took time and energy to defuse.

But this… This was demoralizing.

He looked in on the twins, who were already asleep in the bed they still shared. At some point, they’d decide to sleep in their own rooms, but they weren’t ready yet, and no one was interested in rushing them after everything they’d been through losing their parents so tragically.

The light was still on in Scotty’s room, so he knocked on the door and poked his head in.

His son’s smile was a balm on the wound of this day. “Hey. How’s it going?”

Nick shrugged. “Nothing new. My team is on it. Try not to worry.”

“What?” His tone was deceptively light. “Me worry about drones shooting my dad? And here I was afraid of plain old guns. I was so na?ve.”

Nick went to sit on Scotty’s bed and gave Skippy the dog a scratch behind the ears that earned him a contented sigh from the dog. “I don’t want you to be worried about something happening to me. As we saw today, I’m very well protected.”

“They didn’t mess around.”

“No, they didn’t, and a lot of other things went right today, such as the jets that were scrambled to shoot down the unauthorized aircraft inside the zone of protection around DC.”

“Would they have shot down planes with people on them, too?”

At fourteen, he was too old for lies and deflection. “Yeah, they would’ve. Pilots know they’re not allowed to fly over DC without prior authorization, so the military would have to send jets to figure out what they’re up to and possibly shoot them down, which, thankfully, has never happened.”

“I can’t imagine having to do that, even if they were bad guys.”

“I know. I can’t either. But I don’t want you awake and afraid all night, you hear me?”

“Yeah, I won’t be. I’m tired.”

Nick leaned in for a hug. “Knowing you’re here, in the house with me, even if it’s the freaking White House, makes everything easier and better for me.”

“I like knowing you’re just downstairs most of the time, even if you’re in places I can’t get to sometimes.”

They held on to each other a little longer than usual after the stressful day. “Love you, buddy.”

“Love you, too. I hope you can sleep.”

“I’m gonna try. Don’t forget to take Skippy out to pee one more time.”

“She won’t let me forget.”

Nick gave Skippy a kiss on the head. “You’re a good girl, Skip.” He swore the dog smiled at him, which made him smile back. “Sleep tight, guys.”

“We will.”

“See you in the morning.”

“Maybe I should stay home tomorrow. You know, in case there’s more trouble.”

“Nice try, but it’s back to eighth grade for you. You already missed today.”

“And I’m sure I’ll pay for that tomorrow.”

Nick walked away laughing. He had the best son in the whole world and would fight with anyone who said otherwise.

In their suite, Sam was curled up on the sofa, watching TV and waiting for him. She sat up when he came in, straightened her ponytail and patted the seat next to her.

He sat and put his arms around her.

She curled into his embrace and breathed him in. “How are you?”

“Better after five minutes with Scotty.”

“He does have that effect.”

“He thinks he should stay home tomorrow, just in case there’s more trouble.”

Sam snorted. “That’s so something I would’ve tried back in the day, not that I had drones coming for my family or anything like that.”

“I’m worried they’re all going to be traumatized.”

“They’re okay. Eli and I spent a lot of time with the three of them tonight and did everything we could to reassure them. The twins have already moved on. Scotty will take a little more time to process it.”

“Did Eli go back to school?” He was a junior at Princeton and had been home for the Easter weekend.

“They left about an hour ago.”

Eli’s detail, led by Nate, who was now dating Sam’s niece Brooke, would safely see Eli and his wife back to New Jersey. “It’s a relief to me that he has a detail, and we don’t have to worry about them driving.”

“I had that same thought when they left.” She combed her fingers through his hair, making him sigh with pleasure the way Skippy had. “What’re you hearing about the investigation?”