100° & Rising III: Hell Fire

Chapter I

(Kamala POV)

The Jungle | Black Heat

"Madam VP." His voice is crisp, professional

"Giselle is missing." The words tear from my throat, raw and unfiltered. A rare slip in my carefully maintained control. "She's been gone since the ball. I received a text that night that didn't sound like her at all, and there's been a stabbing at The Madison where we-" I catch myself as emotions begin to take over.

"Tell me everything," he commands, and there's a shift in his tone.

I relay the facts with mechanical precision.

"Her personal security detail?" Theodore's question is pointed.

"There wasn't one. After Catherine we decided that it wasn't needed anymore. We used mine when we were together, when alone she tends to stay put unless she was modeling. Then her agency would provide security." The explanation sounds hollow now, negligent even. I press my fingertips against my eyelids, fighting back an unexpected sting. "The text mentioned a family emergency and her coming to stay with you and Dot, but you two obviously don't live together."

"I'll make some calls." Theodore's voice has taken on that particular quality that reminds me why, despite his advanced age and academic cover, he remains one of the most formidable forces in Washington. "Go to the hotel. See what you can find out directly. I'll be there with Dorothea tonight."

I nod, though he can't see me. "I'm heading there now."

"Kamala." His use of my name stops me cold. "If someone has harmed her, there will be nowhere on this earth they can hide from us."

The line goes dead, and a shiver races up my spine.

I buzz for my chief of staff. "Get my security detail ready. We're going to The Madison. Now."

Twenty minutes later, my motorcade pulls up to the hotel's pristine entrance. I don't wait for the door to be opened, bursting from the vehicle with barely contained fury. My security detail scrambles to keep up, their usual formation tightening around me as I stride through the ornate lobby. The manager must have been alerted to my arrival - he's already waiting, nervously adjusting his tie.

"Madam Vice President, this is an unexpected honor, but I must say the timing is-"

"Show me the security footage from the eighth floor." I cut through his pleasantries like a scalpel. "Room 812 specifically."

His face pales. "I... That's the room where the incident-"

"I'm aware." My voice drops to a dangerous whisper. "The footage. Now."

He leads us to a small security office tucked behind the reception desk. Three uniformed guards jump to attention as we enter. The wall of monitors displays various angles of the hotel's public spaces, but one section is conspicuously dark.

"What am I looking at?" I ask, though I already know.

The manager swallows. "The security cameras for the entire east wing were disabled. We're still investigating how it happened."

My blood runs cold. "Disabled before or after my team checked in?"

The head of security steps forward. "Before, ma'am. The system went down at approximately 3:14 AM. We had a team working on it, assuming it was a technical glitch."

"A technical glitch." The words taste like ash. "And you didn't think to increase physical security presence when your cameras mysteriously failed? Especially with the Vice President elect walking in your halls?"