Matt Drake 07 - Blood Vengeance Read Online Free

wrong turn—” He referred to a recent scandal. “Every day a new government conspiracy. Ah,” he laughed, “They just don’t know us at all.”
    “But we have all seen the darkness.” He launched immediately into a fresh tack, buoyed by his own beliefs. “ We have touched it. It has blighted all our lives. But in darkness, good can be allowed to shine. And yes, we have all seen it shine. First responders leaping through flames to save those who can’t save themselves, civilians rushing into danger to help each other.” He paused. “We have all seen the good sparkle in the dark.”
    A tumultuous applause broke out. Coburn swept the crowd with his eyes. Even the people on the fringes were clapping, the wandering staff stilled, rapt with concentration. Even the presidential aides, usually vying for attention, for recognition, barely moved a muscle.
    But there was one select group of men who remained far above the captivations of a presidential speech. These men would never be beguiled. They were the best of the best. The Secret Service knew every inch of this hotel like the backs of their hands. They had memorized every square foot of the twelve floors, the three hundred and thirty nine rooms, the forty one suites all the way down to the kitchens, the basement and the sub-basement underneath with its tunnels, which also existed as a blueprint in every one of the forty shrewd minds that formed the President’s protective detail. They had swept for bugs close to the stage and behind it, using a Digital Spectrum Analyser; every one of them was acquainted with the EER – the primary Emergency Escape Route drawn up around the hotel.
    Now one of them spoke into his wrist mic, then stepped forward unexpectedly, leaning toward the President’s ear. “We need to leave, sir.”
    Coburn didn ’t argue. He knew these men and their utter professionalism. With a quick glance at Marie, the First Lady, he ducked his head and fell into line. Under his breath he whispered, “What’s going on?”
    “Trouble across the street, sir. We aren’t taking any chances.”
    Coburn paused. “With Jonathan? The Secretary of Defense?”
    In answer, a n agent encircled his waist with an iron-like arm, making him realize he’d slowed down. Several others crowded around him, herding him away from the stage and through a network of passages. Other black-suited men manned entry points and fell in as they passed, calling all-clears and prepared for every single outcome.
    Coburn heard the chatter alongside him. “Eagle One is on the way. Prepare for evac.” And more, “Report on exterior needed now. Is the route clear?”
    “Don ’t worry, sir,” He recognized the voice of Marnich close to his left ear. “We’re only two blocks from the White House.”
    Coburn said nothing. He hadn ’t even thought about his own safety. His only thoughts were for Jonathan Gates and Marie, his wife. She would be undergoing a similar evac, through another route. Thank God the kids weren’t here.
    “Maybe you should give me a gun ,” he finally said. It was a one-liner that regularly passed between Marnich and himself, born of yearnings for his simpler fighting days that would never return. Marnich was one of the agents who truly understood the urge.
    “Only when we get you back to the White House, sir.”
    In other circumstances, Coburn would have laughed. Tonight, he didn’t think he would ever laugh again. He slowed as they entered the parking structure. “I want two of you to go over there with the Secretary,” he said firmly. “And I want reports. Regularly.”
    “Sir, that can ’t—”
    “It will happen.” Coburn read the lead agent ’s mind. “And now. Send two of your best men, Jeff. Send them now.”
    The agent immediately ordered two men away, speaking through his military -grade communications device. The line was unhackable; the GPRS coordinates masked beyond anyone’s ability to crack.
    “A short hop to the White House ,”