Warbound: Book Three of the Grimnoir Chronicles (7 page)

“Serious as can be.”

“I wish you would’ve just come out and said so. Hell . . . Get in the car, Francis.”

“She’s legit?”

“She’s legit.” Dan seemed upset. “Get in the car now.”

Their destination was only minutes away, but Hammer insisted on driving around for a little bit to make sure they weren’t being followed before circling back and taking them to the White House.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Francis muttered.

“Nope. Afraid not,” Hammer answered as they stopped at the gate. They were keeping it low-key now, but the Army had been handling security in the Capitol ever since the demon rampage. The soldiers at the perimeter looked at Hammer and checked her ID while other soldiers gave Francis and Dan the once-over, then they were waved right through. They were definitely expected.

Francis had been to the White House before for social events. His father had been an ambassador and a man of considerable authority, he had uncles who’d been senators and governors, and of course, grandfather Cornelius had bought politicians like a farmer would buy pigs at auction. That said, attending a secret meeting with the president was still a little intimidating.

“Let me do the talking,” Dan warned.

“I won’t screw this up,” Francis answered.

“No, you won’t, because I’m going to knock you over the head, tie you up, and hide you in the trunk,” Dan warned. “Oh, you think I’m kidding? Wipe that smile off your face. This isn’t some congressman from Podunk, North Dakota you can shout at.”

Hammer chuckled. “Dan, I never get tired of seeing you sweat.”

“Yuck it up, Hammer. You know damn good and well what Carr had planned for Actives in this country. You saw the evidence Faye pulled out of Mason Island. Do you think for one second Carr was
alone?
Do you think he was the
only one
in the whole government who thought the Imperium and the Soviets were off to a
good start?
”

Hammer’s smile died. She knew that Dan was right. Deep inside, every Active in the country did. “I don’t think it is going to come to that.”

“You hope it doesn’t come to that?” Francis snorted. “It sure seems to have come to that damn near everywhere else in the world.”

“You’re a walking lie detector,” Dan said. “You tell me what you really hear when they start talking about public safety and national security, and monitoring and
controlling
Actives for our own safety. I’ve not got your gifts, but I’m pretty good at snowing folks with words, so I can darn sure recognize when somebody else is doing it to me.”

“Well . . .” She sighed. “I hear a lot of folks who don’t know better. They’re afraid and they figure we’ve got to do
something,
but since they don’t understand the topic, their proposed
somethings
don’t make a whole lot of sense, and then I hear a lot of no-good rat liars willing to take advantage of Do Somethings . . . Honestly, it scares the hell out of me.” Hammer pulled the car to a stop. Men were already waiting for them. “All right, this is it.”

Francis’ door was opened from the outside. “Welcome, Mr. Stuyvesant. Come with us, please.” Dan started to get out his side, but that door was politely caught by another functionary. “I’m sorry, Mr. Garrett. The President wishes to speak with Mr. Stuyvesant in private.”

That was unexpected.

“Aw, hell,” Dan muttered. “Do
not
screw this up.”

“Don’t worry, Dan. I can handle this.”

“Francis, wait.” Hammer looked over the seat at them as they were getting out. “Good luck in there.”

He’d heard they were building a new, nicer Oval Office, but either it wasn’t done yet or Francis didn’t rate it, because he was led to the same old office that he’d visited before. Besides the obviously increased security, the White House hadn’t changed much since the first time he’d been here, tagging along once when Grandfather had gone to visit Wilson. He barely remembered Wilson, except that he’d seemed very tall and a little frightening, like a leathery scarecrow, but in Francis’ defense, he’d only been a kid.

Another man was leaving the Oval Office as Francis approached. They made eye contact, and the fellow looked familiar for some reason. “Mr. Stuyvesant. What a pleasure to meet you.” The man nodded politely and extended his hand. Francis shook it. Firm and businesslike. Tall, humorless, he had the look of a banker. Francis knew a lot of bankers, but that wasn’t where he recognized this man from. It was from the front page of the papers. “I am Nathaniel Drew.”

They came from the same social circles, but Francis hadn’t been paying much attention to those lately. “The architect?”

“I prefer to think of myself as the designer of the planned communities of the future.”

“Of course. I hear you’re quite the visionary.” That was the polite way of saying that all Francis knew of the man was that he was another one of those opinionated collectivists who felt the world was somehow entitled to a bigger share of Francis’ money, all in the name of progress, but Drew was also a Cog of some renown, which explained why he was meeting with the President. In fact, Drew was even wearing a white armband on his suit coat bearing the meshed gear logo of the Cog. Francis frowned when he saw that. The mandatory armbands were part of the Active Registration Act, so the architect was probably sucking up to the President, and Francis automatically hated suck-ups. “Those armbands aren’t law yet.”

“Oh, this?” Drew glanced down at it. “I stand behind Franklin’s proposals and merely wish to set an example for others of our kind.”

“No, seriously . . .”

“Easy identification is in the best interests of public safety and builds better relations with the general public.”

Cogs were beloved celebrities. Of course he didn’t mind wearing it on his sleeve, but tell that to some poor Shard who didn’t want to be known as a freak, or a Reader who’d spend the rest of their life a pariah. “Personally, I’ll be damned if I ever wear one of those things. Like cattle with an ear tag.”

“We are all entitled to our opinions.” Drew gave him a forced smile.

“Yeah . . . It’s a free country. For now . . . Nice to make your acquaintance, Mr. Drew. Maybe I’ll give you a call the next time UBF needs another skyscraper.”

“Sadly, I am afraid my time has been too consumed with other altruistic humanitarian projects to bother with any commercialism, but please, I was just leaving . . .” The architect stepped out of the way. “I do not wish to keep you.” And then he was whisked away by the functionaries, and Francis was escorted into the inner sanctum.

Franklin Roosevelt was already seated behind his mighty desk, waiting. “Well, hello, Francis. It has been a long time.” The president extended his hand to shake, but he did not bother to stand. Francis gave him a firm handshake and found himself hoping that his palms weren’t too sweaty.

“Good afternoon, Mr. President.”

The functionary hurried out and closed the door behind him, leaving the two of them alone. Roosevelt looked like a kindly man, with an easy smile, even a bit of a twinkle in his eye, but Francis had grown up in the brutal knife fight that passed for New York politics, where various rich families played at Machiavellian games, and he knew that this man had been ruthless enough to earn the grudging respect of Grandpa Cornelius, who had been as cutthroat, a rat bastard as there had ever been. That meant Roosevelt was not to be trusted.

“Last time we spoke was at a gala event put on by your father. You were about to leave for Boston for school. How time flies.”

“Yes, it does, sir.” When they had last spoken, Francis’ greatest questions in life had been how to bed the best-looking girls and where to get the best-quality alcohol. Since then he’d been drafted into a secret war, engaged in intrigue, espionage, and outright combat against all manner of nefarious magical forces, lost good friends, been shot, beaten, and briefly imprisoned, and unexpectedly wound up as the head of one of the most powerful corporations in the world. Francis was still a very young man by most standards, but the last few years had been very
full.
“Yes, it does.”

The president gestured at one of the high-backed chairs which had been arranged before the desk. “We were supposed to have spoken in Miami before the unfortunate events there . . . Please, have a seat.” Francis did. The chair was remarkably uncomfortable. He wondered if that was on purpose. Roosevelt was smoking, and he gestured at a golden box on his desk, but Francis shook his head politely. “You know, I’ve never been able to thank you personally for what you did in Florida. You and your German friend, Mr. Koenig, saved my life.”

“That is no problem at all. We’ve all been very busy since then.” The assassin had already struck before the two Grimnoir could react, but if Heinrich hadn’t Faded the already badly wounded Roosevelt through the hotel steps, the assassin Zangara would’ve finished him with the next magical blast. “Are you well? There are rumors that the Healers weren’t able to—”

Roosevelt waved his hand dismissively. “No, no. I assure you, I am quite all right.”

“Heinrich and I were both glad to help.”

“Of course. Allow me to thank you now. Miami was just another warning of things to come. This has been a time of crisis for our nation. I’ve got a country to get through difficult straits. Things were bad enough as it was, our people low on hope and long on debt, and that’s before the added complication of assassins’ plots and their schemes within plots. The greatest among those plots would not have been exposed if it had not been for your help.”

Yet the Grimnoir were still being painted as the bad guy, as if only they hadn’t been there to be scapegoated in the first place, then none of this would’ve ever happened. “It would be nice to hear you say that in public.”

The president laughed, even though Francis had not been joking. “You remind me of your father. That’s exactly the sort of angle he would’ve taken. He was hotheaded, a bit impulsive in our youth, of course, but there was a stalwart Democrat for you.” Francis only nodded along. He was a Republican, but that was only because when he had first registered, he had declared he was the opposite of whatever his father had been. “Has anyone told you how much you look like your father?”

Not lately. Thankfully.
Francis was also told that he resembled Cornelius before he’d gotten fat. “I don’t think you had me summoned here to trade pleasantries about family.”

“Of course.” Roosevelt’s smile went away too quickly for it to have been real in the first place. Regardless of the fact that Francis had helped save his life, this was politics now. “I must remember that you are a titan of Wall Street, a captain of industry. Your time is
so
very valuable.”

“No offense intended, Mr. President.”

“You are correct though. Time is of the essence, and every day my proposals are stymied makes our situation that much worse.” The pretenses were gone, and now Francis was clearly speaking to the man who thought it was a fine idea for Actives to have to wear identifying badges like they were livestock brands. “I heard about your testimony earlier.”

By the time the evening papers went out, the whole world would hear his inflammatory testimony. “I stand by what I said.”

“You may want to tread more carefully in the future. You are not making yourself any friends.”

“If they don’t like the truth, then maybe I don’t really desire their friendship.”

“Regardless . . . One needs friends in this town.”

“That’s a shame. Whoever will I play bridge with?”

Roosevelt chuckled. “I see how this will be . . . Then let me clarify a few matters for you, young man. I now know quite a bit now about your
society
. I am familiar with your code and your manifesto. You see yourselves as chivalrous defenders against tyranny, I grasp that and I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“
However
, I do not believe you grasp the magnitude of the situation before us. This nation teeters at the brink of ruin and the world stands at the edge of chaos. I inherited a mess. Our industries and businesses are failing, our people are broke and hungry, and above all, they are worried about terrible events such as Mar Pacifica, Miami, or Washington. We must take firm, decisive action to assure the people that steps have been taken to prevent future acts of this nature.”

Francis gritted his teeth and cut off his angry retort. “I’ve seen your proposals. I don’t think they’ll have the outcome you’re looking for.”

“And on that point we are in disagreement. I believe my proposals will ensure our liberty and our safety.”

Now Francis couldn’t help himself. “Look, I’m not some yokel you’re going to sway through a fireside radio chat. What is it that you really want?”

“The American people deserve to be kept safe from the magical menace.”

“Magical menace?” Francis sputtered.

Roosevelt smiled. “I understand your antagonism toward the term, but men like you are not the problem. You’re one of the good ones, Francis. You will be able to go about your life and your business with no undue extra burdens. Every other great nation in the world either has or soon will take steps toward better utilizing and protecting their Active population. We are at a crossroads of history. America must do the same.”

“Like the Imperium and their torture schools?”

“Of course not. That is barbarism.” Roosevelt acted offended by the suggestion. “However, you bring up an important point, which I fear you fail to understand. The world stands at the brink of war. World peace is threatened. I know you are far more aware of that than most of our countrymen. You are in the business of building the machines of war, and I know of your personal vendetta against all things Imperium. If it does not happen soon, I can promise you it will happen within the decade. The Soviets have turned their attention on a vulnerable Europe, and we both know the clock is ticking toward our collision against the Imperium in the Pacific.”

“I would not disagree with you there. I’d be surprised if we make it that long.” Francis leaned forward in his chair. Roosevelt knew damn good and well who was behind Mar Pacifica, not that he would ever admit it since the country wasn’t ready for a war. The event was still being blamed on Active anarchists. “We’re headed for a confrontation all right, and it will be a big one.”