The president stood up and pointed at Ben and then Billy. “Not just the ones we sent in response. Every fucking man and woman in the forces that we can pull. All of them. Boots back on the ground here at home. Ben, how quickly can we get ready to respond to this?”
“We’ve got the plans in place and everything is stockpiled, so probably twenty-four hours if we put a hellfire to it.”
“Light the match,” Steph said, “but don’t put it to the wick yet. I don’t want a single soldier outside the grounds of a single base, but I want trucks ready to roll.”
“Steph,” Manny said. “Madam President, I think . . .” He trailed off. He didn’t know what he thought.
Steph walked to the end of the table that held a phone. “You think I’m overreacting, and you’re probably right, but we know the Chinese nuked their own territory to keep something in check, something they are calling bugs, and now we’ve got a billionaire who crash-landed in Minneapolis and was eaten by spiders. I’m not exactly Mrs. Conspiracy Theory, but we better act on this. Worst case, what? We call it a training exercise?”
“A training exercise,” Alex said. “We say we’ve had the plans in place for a year, but we didn’t alert anybody because we wanted to really give it a test. That’s the story we spin if we’re overreacting.”
“Okay,” Manny said. “I don’t like it, but I can live with it.”
Billy raised his hand. Manny almost laughed. The man actually raised his hand.
“What?” Stephanie snapped.
“What if we aren’t overreacting?” he said. “Near as we can tell, this started, what, six days ago? Six days from the start to China dropping a nuke? What if we’re already moving too slowly?”
Stephanie looked at the secretary. “Put the director through,” she said, and then she turned back to Billy. “If we aren’t overreacting, then God help us all.” She picked up the phone, but then paused and pressed it to her chest. “And Manny,” she said, turning to look at him, “call your ex-wife. I’ve got some questions about spiders.”
American University,
Washington, DC
“Professor Guyer?”
Melanie snapped her head up from the desk. “I’m awake. I’m awake,” she said. Her cheek and the side of her mouth were damp, and she wiped the drool off her face. Jesus. How long had she been asleep? As she turned to look at Bark, she could feel a sharp pain in her lower back. She had a couch in her office for this very reason, so she could sleep at her lab when she wanted, and yet she’d still fallen asleep at her desk. She glanced at her watch. Nearly four in the afternoon.
“Professor Guyer?” Bark said again, her name still a question.
She looked at him and then past him, to see that neither Julie nor Patrick was drafting behind him, and then she said, “How many times, Bark?”
“I’m sorry? How many times what, Professor Guyer?”
“How many times have I had your dick in my mouth? And you’re still calling me Professor Guyer?”
Bark blushed, which, Melanie hated to admit, was kind of cute. He was really, really good in bed, though he seemed oblivious to it, always asking her if things were okay or if that was what she wanted, and that was part of his charm. Of course, that same cluelessness was what made her want to brain him with her desk lamp.
“You know it makes me uncomfortable when you speak like that,” he said. He looked over his shoulder to make sure none of his colleagues had heard Melanie’s remark, and then he shut the door behind him and came around her desk. He sat on the desk and put his hand on her shoulder. He’d been in the lab all night, as she had, but he still smelled good. A mix of soap and something a little stronger. His hand was big and heavy, and despite herself, she could feel herself starting to sink into its weight. She turned her head and, very lightly, sunk her teeth into the edge of his palm.
She released his palm. “But my saying I had your dick in my mouth doesn’t make you so uncomfortable that you’d stop me from doing it,” Melanie said. “Spare me the old-fashioned ‘delicate flower’ bullshit, okay?” She yawned and stretched. There was something seriously tight in her back, and she really wanted to just put her head back down on the desk and close her eyes again. She felt as if she could sleep for days. She’d been dreaming about spiders—she always dreamed about spiders—and there was a nest of cobwebs in her head.