Breed Book 4, Part 51


“I always kind of wanted to go on a White House tour,” Rox said quietly as they trailed behind the walking tour, “you know, when there was an inhabitant less stomach-churning.”

“I’ve been, once, when I was tiny,” Mahmoud said. “Didn’t make much of an impact, then. Of course, if you’re too young to understand the historical significance, it’s just an old house.”

The guide stopped, listening to the radio clipped to her belt. Then she stood up robotically. “Apologies for the inconvenience, but we need to divert to a security checkpoint for all of your,” the room shook as the sound of a not-very-distant explosion disrupted the rest of the tour group.

“Think that’s our distraction?” Anita asked.

“We’ll know in a couple of seconds, if Sonya managed to peel off enough,” the rest was drowned out by the hustling through of a squad of Secret Service agents in tactical garb, “looks like that’s our signal.”

“Wait,” Anita said, and held Mahmoud back from the hall as a second group of agents, these in suits and ties, rushed by. “They didn’t notice us, the tour guide didn’t notice us falling behind. Your powers make things a little too easy.”

“If you really want to get shot at, we can split up. Then my ability won’t protect you in the slightest.”

“I just wish it was more offensive specific, rather than waiting until the last second to protect you by having your opponent slip on a banana peel.”

“Why not?” Rox asked. “That’s a classic. You ready?”

Mahmoud nodded. “Ready.”

She leaned her head to the side, to better hear Rui through her phone earpiece, “And our special delivery?”

“Getting nervous about being up in the air, honestly,” Rui responded.

“The window alarmed?” Rox asked, walking to the end of the hall. 

“Yeah,” Mahmoud said, “but I’ve got it bypassed.”

“Great.” She opened it, and stuck her head out.

“I see you,” Rui said. “Hold out your arms.”

She did, and a heavy backpack fell into them.

“Hey, you’re not supposed to,” the agent didn’t get to finish as Anita hit him in the throat, then slammed his head into a wall.

“We have tranquilizers for that,” Rox said, opening the smaller pouch on the bag that was filled with syringes.

“I prefer tranquilizers with more punch,” Anita said, and held out her hand. Rox opened the larger pouch, and handed her a handgun, then a magazine. Anita checked the weapon before loading it and chambering a round.

“They’re rubber bullets, but you still need to aim for the chest, and try not to use them within 30 feet. Because we’re better than these fascist assholes. We clear?”

Mahmoud shut the window. “Yeah. No alarms so far.”


“Guard at the door and one inside. That feels light…”

“Lady Luck strikes again,” Anita said.

“Let’s stop looking the gift horse in the mouth and get in there,” Rox said. “In or out?”

“One right after the other in rapid succession usually helps get me there,” Anita said. “You distract the guy outside, and then take the one inside while I handle him.” Anita burst down a side hallway.

“She know what she’s doing?” Mahmoud asked.

“Sometimes,” Rox said. “Hold this.” She handed him her gun, and he pinched it between his thumb and forefinger. “I meant like a normal human being, not an awkward cartoon crab.”

He slid it into his palm. “I don’t like guns.”

“Only amoral nuts like guns. At best, they’re a distasteful tool.”

“I have a particular aversion, maybe as a product of having one shoved in my face on the regular during ‘interrogations.’”

“With any luck you won’t need to use it. But I don’t think they’ll appreciate the nuance that the intruder of Middle Eastern dissent was holding the gun like it was one of the President’s overflowing diapers.”

“Noted,” he said, and pushed the gun into his pocket and held it there.

Rox slunk down the hall. The agent standing guard at the door noticed, and put up his hand. “Excuse me, Ma’am, you’re not allowed in this area. Did you get lost from the tour? I’m going to need you to go back down that hall, take a left and walk towards the flashing red lights at the security checkpoint.”

Rox put a little more swing into her hips, and tried to arch her back to emphasize her cleavage. “I don’t suppose you can help me find the nearest bathroom,” she said, in what she was sure wasn’t a terribly sexy voice.

His hand started towards his holster, and Anita hit him from the side with the butt of her gun. She took his sidearm and his radio, before giving Rox a bemused look. “What were you doing?”

“Distracting him?”

“I meant the pretty one. This one has a thing for Middle Eastern men.”

“Well, that at least salves my ego a little bit,” Rox said.

“And?” Anita asked, tossing Rox the gun.

“Oh, right,” Rox swung open the door into the Oval Office. The agent inside fired a shot too wide, and she returned fire, catching him in the chest.

“I had a thought,” Mahmoud said, bending over and pulling the agent’s earpiece near to his mouth. “Repelled two intruders, and Big Bird is safely feathering his nest.”

 “Big Bird?” Rox asked.

“Don’t’ look at me. I didn’t pick their codes.”

Drump was cowering behind his desk. “Mr. President,” Rox said, fighting back a wince, “your life is in danger.”

“I can see that. I’m not a wee-tard.”

Rox sighed, and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I don’t think you understand. We’re here to make sure the attack doesn’t succeed.”

“I, I don’t believe you,” he said, his eyes barely visible over his small fingers clutching the edge of his desk.

“And you think if I meant to harm you, staying behind the Resolute Desk is a viable strategy?” He pondered a moment, then went back to glaring. “Fine. I couldn’t care less if you get a fucking leg cramp back there. A?”

“R?” Anita asked.

“We’re outside the door. M?” Anita threw Mahmoud the Secret Service agent’s weapon, and he tossed her one of the other guns.

“I’ll be fine in here.”

“Will he?”

“He don’t start none, won’t be none.”

“That’s a better deal than he ever would have offered any of us.” Rox nodded, and Anita followed her out.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *