Mercury Striking (The Scorpius Syndrome #1)(56)

A pit opened up in Lynne’s stomach. “That’s not true.”

Bret shook his head. “Keeping her prisoner is against everything we are fighting for right now.”

The president nodded, his eyes bloodshot and rimmed by dark circles. “I know, but I have no choice.” He cleared his throat. “We have to make the difficult decisions now.”

Bret stilled. “Then you should make the choices and stop sitting here being a coward.”

The president gasped, and his nostrils flared.

Lynne frowned, the hair on the back of her neck standing up. “Bret!”

“The world is crumbling, and we need to make a stand. We need to impose martial law everywhere and take out the enemies we can right now,” Bret said.

“You’ve lost your mind,” the president spat out.

Bret stood. Since the fever, he’d somehow filled out even more, although he’d always been in good shape. He held a bound set of papers and moved around the desk. “I have the newest intelligence reports, and North Korea is about to strike.”

The president fumbled for his glasses and placed them gingerly on his nose.

Then Bret struck.

Faster than Lynne would’ve thought possible, he clamped his hands around the president’s neck and yanked him to the ground. The prestigious leather chair crashed against the wall.

“Bret!” Lynne leaped around the massive desk and jumped on his back.

He didn’t even twitch. Instead, as the president struggled beneath him, ineffectually kicking out, Bret choked the life out of him. Spittle flew from the elderly man’s mouth, and then his lips went slack in death.

It happened so quickly.

Lynne scrambled away from Bret, her gaze on the wide, unseeing eyes of the president. Shock rocked through her. She opened her mouth to scream, but Bret was on her, taking her down.

He slapped his hand over her mouth, and his body flattened hers. “Not a word,” he ground out, his face an inch away, his blue eyes hard.

She blinked. What had just happened? His hand pressed down, and her teeth ground against her lips. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she nodded. With him on top of her, she couldn’t move.

His eyes warmed.

Her entire body chilled.

“He was weak, and we need strength in this office. We’re at war on several fronts,” Bret hissed.

Panic stopped her breath, and she started to struggle, shoving against him.

He removed his hand. “Stop fighting me.”

Slowly, she shook her head. A tear slipped down her face. Who was this man? “You killed him.”

“Of course,” Bret said. “There’s important work to do, and it’s life or death.”

Lynne breathed out, trying not to move against him. He was stronger than she was, and she was weakened by having given blood again that morning. “The fever affected you, Bret.” Did he see that?

He slid his lips against hers. “I know, but I’m not a Ripper. I’m just more focused than before. It’s possible different individuals can be affected different ways.”

She tried to push her head back against the floor. He was showing no regret for killing the man next to them. “Yes. But you just killed the president.” She tried to eye the door to the Oval Office. “The Secret Service isn’t going to let you go.”

Bret flashed his teeth. “The men outside the door are mine.”

“You have your own men.” Lynne blinked. Terror froze her body, but she could still focus. “This isn’t you,” Lynne snapped out. She glared at him. At the man she’d considered planning her life with, at the man she’d trusted.

“Yes, it is, and I’m making the difficult decisions.” He shoved both hands in her hair and pulled it back from her face. “You’re mine, Lynne. You and I are going to heal this nation and lead it into the next phase of history. We’re going to protect and defend our people by any means necessary.”

A soft knock echoed on the door, and an agent stepped inside. “Mr. Vice President? We need to get moving. Now.”

Lynne’s mouth dropped open. Should she ask for help?

Bret stood, drawing her up. “Lynne Harmony, meet Greg Lake, my new head of, well, everything.”

Greg, his eyes darker than midnight, gave a short nod. “Ma’am.”

Lynne didn’t move. The president lay at an awkward angle, dead in the Oval Office. “What now?” she asked.

“We make a speech to the country, to the world, about the tragic passing of the president, and I step up.” Bret caressed her arm.

She had to get out of there. “I need to work. In fact, I have to go check in with the outlying labs. You still want a cure, right?” Did he? Maybe he no longer wanted a cure.

“Of course. We need the power and control a cure will give us, no matter what. America will lead the whole world if we have a cure.” He turned and pinched her chin with affection. “I’ll have you escorted to the labs at the CDC, and as soon as I take control and put everything in place, you’ll stay here.”

She could feel the blood drain from her face. “I have a bacteria to beat.” There were some promising results from using nanoparticles to destroy the toxins caused by Scorpius, so perhaps she could still save Bret. Turn him back into the man she’d thought he was.