Allie's War Episodes 1-4(175)

“Ethan,” Caine said at last. He cleared his throat, recovered slightly. “Ethan...my god. You look terrible. What happened?”
Ethan Wellington, the Vice President of the United States, gripped the door frame, leaving a smear of blood on the white-painted wood. He still breathed in pants, holding his chest with one hand, wearing a trench coat over what looked like bare feet and pajamas.
How the hell he had gotten there, from the Vice Presidential mansion through security, Caine’s mind began...
Then, in the same set of breaths, he dismissed the lingering doubt.
This might work even better. Let the whole Cabinet see the terrorist attack with their own eyes. Whatever Ethan said at this point could hardly matter, when Caine could simply have his seers manipulate the memory of every human in the room.#p#分页标题#e#
“Ethan.” Caine’s voice emerged stronger. “I just called James to fetch you. Are you all right? What happened?”
Ethan gave a half-gasp. It resembled a laugh.
He raised his head to stare at the President, and the expression on his face took Caine aback. A lot more of Terian lived inside that single body now, Caine realized. A lot more.
Caine’s infiltrators had been busy.
Turning from Caine, Ethan addressed the others, his brown eyes flashing amber in the reflected light.
“I have ordered the Secret Service to arrest President Caine.” He gasped, forcing out words. “I’ve asked for him to be detained...”
The Secretary of State laughed nervously.
“What charge?”
Galaith turned. Rogers had spoken, his Chief of Staff.
“Attempted murder,” Ethan said. Wincing in pain, he clutched his side. “Conspiring with enemies of the United States.” His eyes flickered up like spotlights, meeting Caine’s. “I’ll probably know of a few more things he’s done by the end of the day...he’s mentally unhinged.”
Caine shook his head in bewilderment. “What possible benefit can you see from this, Ethan?”
The question meant more than anyone at the table could possibly know.
Taking a step towards the door, Caine snapped his fingers at the porter standing at the back of the room. “What in god’s name are you waiting for?” he snapped at the man. “Call for medical help. Now! The Vice President’s obviously been hurt!”
Caine walked towards Ethan, thinking he would just use the Barrier to knock him out...
Ethan backed away with another short laugh.
Before Caine could reach the door, Jarvesch, the Secretary of Defense, got to her feet and inserted herself between them. She approached Ethan’s bent form, touching his shoulder even as a kitchen staffer wheeled in their breakfast on a pushcart stacked with silver trays and crystal juice containers. Caine heard the porter ask for the White House physician over the central speaker as the wheels of the cart squeaked jerkily across the floor.
The kitchen staffer brought everything to the long cabinet nearest Caine and began unloading trays laboriously.
The secret service agent by the door clicked his fingers to get the staffer’s attention, frowning when the man didn’t turn.
Caine only noticed this peripherally.
Tensing, he watched Jarvesch take Ethan’s arm, looking into his face. Then she cried out, opening his coat.
“He’s been shot!” She turned to the rest of the room. “He’s been shot several times! God, Ethan! What happened?”
The kitchen staffer stood stock still, gaping, holding a towel in one hand and the handle of the cart in the other. He stared at the Vice President along with the others.
Then he turned, facing President Caine.
Before anyone could move, before Caine glanced at him really, the staffer raised the towel and squeezed off three rounds in rapid succession.
Caine turned towards the sound, but too late. The slowed-down vision of the Barrier allowed him to witness the last shot, almost as an abstraction.
It didn’t allow him to get out of the way.
Smoke came from the gun’s end, the hand jerked, and then...
Panicked yells fill the bunker.
Caine is somehow on the floor.
He fights to breathe, but he’s got a frog in his throat. He tries to clear it, chokes. He hears them, hears the shots echo in his ears well after the fact, but really all he sees is the towel, the blank look on the man’s face, the strange clarity in his eyes.
Caine stares at the ceiling, wonders that he felt no warning from the Barrier. He breathes in labored inhales and stuck exhales, breathing as if through water. He hears a struggle, the breaking of glass, but that’s far away, too. He wonders how anyone could have gotten past his security, that of the Pyramid more than that of the human compound, although that’s not inconsiderable either.