Presidents, Spies, and Boys, Oh My!

Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

The White House was cleared three hours later. President McGallen was immediately whisked away to his office by Secret Service agents as soon as the all clear call went over the comms network. Mrs. McGallen was fanning herself with her hand, Ariana walking besides her and whispering into her ear at rapid-fire speed. Preston stood by me, clutching his Nintendo DS in a white knuckled hand. I sighed, crossing my arms across my chest and stepped forward to follow Ariana. Preston took hold of my arm before I could step any further. I turned around to face the little boy. 

"Yes, Preston?" I asked.

"I just wanted to say thank you, ma'am. If I had eaten that muffin, I wouldn't be here anymore. Thank you." his small voice was timid.

I smiled and crouched down, wrapping my arms around his small frame in a hug. He hugged me back, burying his face into my shoulder. I patted his back comfortingly. Poor boy. Five years old and already having to deal with this kind of stuff. It's wrong. I never really had a childhood, but I'm a much different story. Preston should enjoy his time here, not have to worry about being killed everywhere he goes. 

"You're very welcome, Preston. That's my job. And, please, call me Ember." I said, pulling out of the hug and smiling at him.

He nodded, his big brown eyes glassy and teary. I wiped a stray tear away from his cheek with my thumb when it slipped from his eyes. Standing back up, I saw one of the Secret Service men walking over to me. Through his dark glasses, I could feel his intense stare. Shivers ran through me. I'll never get used to that. I turned to face him.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Falcon would like to speak with you in his office. You're not going to believe who he has in there."

I have an idea. I groaned.

"You don't mean Mr. Wells, do you?" I asked.

The agent didn't answer and I took that as a yes. Dammit! Why is my boss here?! I nodded and walked out of the ballroom with the famous silent steps that earned me my codename, Kitty Cat. Let me explain. While I was in training to become an agent, I could sneak up on anyone and always landed on my feet when I jumped off of things. Even when we went skydiving (yes, skydiving was part of my training), I landed on my feet. According to my trainers, I had the silent grace of a cat. Kitty just sounded like a cooler addition. Hence, my codename Kitty Cat came to be. Suddenly, as I rounded a corner into another hallway, I bumped into what looked like an Oompa Loompa on stiletto heels. 

"Shit!" it exclaimed, tottering around on her heels and over to me. 

I looked at her as a spy. Noting every little detail. Short, tight bright pink skirt (that could've qualified as a belt), a low-cut black V-neck half shirt with her orange stomach out in the open. Twig thin and caked with makeup on her Botoxed face, I could have broken her spine with a single tap. Her hair, curly and bleached blonde, was pulled back with an elastic ponytail. I propped my fists on my hips, turning to guard mode. 

"Who the hell are you? How did you get into the White House?" I asked icily.

She pulled down her skirt, which didn't help her look better at all (if that's even possible), and glared at me. I almost laughed. Glaring with bright blue makeup and heavy mascara is just hilarious to see. It's, literally, like a mad Oompa Loompa. 

"Why should you have to know?"

"Um, maybe because we just got out of a code red lock down and you're tottering around here in heels."

She pursed her Botoxed and ruby red painted lips, trying to look threatening by copying my hands-on-hips pose. Unfortunately for her, it didn't work out too well. I swear, why isn't anyone getting this on video? A slut facing down a professional CIA agent. Golden. 

"That doesn't mean I'm a terrorist, asshole. Who are you to be telling me this anyway? You don't look like a Secret Service agent."

Oh, if only you knew. I cleared my throat and opened my mouth to answer. 

"That's none of your business. I'm warning you now, I'm not someone you want to mess with. I do now that every visitor to the White House needs a visitor's pass unless escorted otherwise by either a member of the McGallen or a Secret Service agent. Now, I'll ask once more. Who are you and how did you get in here?"

"I'm Stephanie," she said, as if I was supposed to know her name already, "I was invited here by Skylar McGallen. He wanted some fun so I offered to give it to him."

My blood boiled. Skylar! I should have known! That douchebag is inviting prostitutes in again! I swore under my breath. Stephanie took one look at my anger, which was probably written all over my face, and stepped back. Without saying anything, I grabbed her arm and dragged her down the hall to Skylar's room. I know exactly where it is. She clawed at me hand, ordering me to let go in a nasally voice. I ignored her.

"Kitty Cat, where are you?" my comms unit piped in.

"I'm a little busy right now, Alpha. Caught an unwelcome guest roaming the halls."

"What? Who?"

"A slut. Skylar's slut, to be specific."

"Hey! I am not a slut!" Stephanie protested, clawing at my hand again.

I rolled my eyes, turning down the hallways sharply with Stephanie in tow. Her arm felt so small in my hand I could've mistaken them for sticks. Easily. I found Skylar's room with the door closed. Without knocking, I kicked the door in. It burst open. Lying in the luxurious king size bed that dominated the room, protesting my entrance with a slur of curses, was Skylar McGallen. His comforters were a mess on the bed, an empty box of Trojans sitting on the floor next to his clothes. Completely naked, he scrambled to pull the covers over him. I slammed the door shut behind me and threw Stephanie at him. He swore at me. I rolled my eyes.

"Care to explain? I found her roamins around aimlessly in the halls." I growled.

Stephanie rubbed her arm where I had been holding onto her. It was red. Well, shit. Skylar sat next to Stephanie on the bed, shushing her while she blubbered over her arm. 

"Well? I don't have all day!" I said, even more forceful this time.

"I'm eighteen! I can do whatever the fuck I want!"

"Oh, really? Why don't you run that by your father and see what he says? Do you want your father to be completely ruined? If anyone finds out about your little conquests, your father is going to be blamed. You're such a douchebag. You've been warned twice about this!" 

Skylar rolled his eyes. Stephanie glared at me, which was still hilarious. I was too angry to laugh. 

"Whatever! I never even wanted my dad to get elected anyway! The only good thing about being the First Son is the luxuries I get! I can screw any pretty girl I want. I can go to any country I want at any time of day."

"Yes, and if you want those luxuries for another four years, you will sure as hell behave. Now, since this is the third time you've been warned about this, I'm afraid you'll have to face the consequences."

I raised my hand to my comms unit. Skylar watched me with pure fury in his cobalt gray eyes, his dyed inky black hair flopping into his face. The silver piercings in his lip and eyebrows glinted in the lighting of the room. 

"Alpha, get me three agents. Skylar's reached his limit. Re-"

I wasn't able to finish what I was saying when Skylar flung himself at me. Despite the fact that he was completely naked, he looked determined to beat me. I easily deflected his punches and kicks, flipping into my spy mode and pinning him against the wall in under ten seconds. He fought against me, but my grip was too strong. Stephanie watched from the bed, wide-eyed. I remained focused on Skylar.

"What was that again, Kitty Cat?"

"Send me agents. Skylar's done it again." I answered.

"Let me go, bitch!"

"You asked for it. Never fight a trained agent."

Skylar gritted his teeth and, not too long after, three Secret Service men walked in. I let go of Skylar, shoving him towards his bed and slipping out of the room, leaving the Secret Service guys to do their thing. I closed the door behind me and started jogging to President McGallen's office.