some pretty incredible things.”
The chairman frowned, but she had his attention.
“Like what?” he asked. Waller smiled again, but this time it was sincere. He’d asked the right question, and at exactly the right time.
She had him.
“Go get it, girl,” she said.
Enchantress’s eyes followed Waller’s hand to the box containing her desiccated heart. She forced a tight little smile. Then—snap—she disappeared. The chiefs stared at one another, not certain what they had just seen.
Five seconds passed. Ten. Twenty.
“That’s all you’ve got?” the chairman said, breaking the silence. “I’ve seen David Copperfield do a helluva lot better.”
“Wait for it, sir,” Amanda responded, a bit of annoyance creeping into her voice. “It’s coming.”
SNAP!
Enchantress reappeared, unleashing a mild shockwave that scattered papers across the room. She dropped a thick binder on the table. A binder secured with Iranian seals. Written in Farsi.
Waller slid the binder to the chairman.
“Sir, how about a little something from the Weapons Ministry vault in Tehran?”
Cautiously, he opened the binder and leafed through the papers. His eyes widened in surprise.
“We’ve been chasing these plans for years.” The chairman slid the binder to General Conway, who rifled through it one page at a time.
“Thank you, Enchantress,” Waller said. “We’d like Dr. Moone back now.”
But Enchantress wasn’t paying attention.
Conway paused momentarily on a photograph.
It was the remaining jar from the cave.
Waller saw it, too. She quickly swiped the lock and opened the case. Without attracting attention, she shoved her pen inside.
Instantly Enchantress snapped around and stared at her. Then her skin began to retract, squeezing her face, strangling her with her own flesh. She tried to resist, but the pain was too great.
“Enchantress,” she whispered.
In an instant June Moone had returned. She looked up to Waller, pleading with her eyes.
“Please don’t make me bring her back.”
Rick Flag pushed a glass of water to her.
“It’ll be okay. I promise.”
Waller shook her head dismissively. “There’s no reason to be worried. I control her, as I will all the others to come. You and the rest of the world will never have to fear metas ever again.”
Tolliver stood up again, a broad, victorious smile coiled across his face.
“Mr. Chairman, sir. I move that we authorize Amanda Waller to establish Task Force X under the A.R.G.U.S. program.” Immediately all eyes turned to the chairman.
A moment later, he nodded his assent.
Waller, too, was grinning. She had won.
She always won.
Under the table, Rick Flag took June’s hand in his.
FIFTEEN
With its landing gear extended, descending at a constant three degrees, the KC-135 Stratotanker began its approach to the Belle Reve runway, less than five miles away.
The facility was pretty much in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a vast bayou of cypress trees and swampland. Only a long causeway connected it to the rest of the world, but the drawbridge was raised, isolating it further.
The aircraft was coming in low at an approach speed of 100 knots. It buzzed over patrol boats bristling with machine guns, manned by alert guards.
The prison looked like an Iraq firebase with its missile launchers, plastic barriers, camouflage netting, and patrolling Humvees. Nobody was getting in uninvited.
Even more important, nobody was getting out.
Captain Griggs watched as the Stratotanker hit the tarmac. Moments later it taxied to a halt. Waller, Flag, and Moone made their way down the ramp. He put on a big fake smile and closed the gap to shake hands with the colonel.
“Welcome to Belle Reve Special Security Barracks,” he said. Flag ignored his hand and nodded toward Waller.
“Kiss her ass,” he suggested. “She’s in charge.”
Without hesitation, Griggs turned to Waller and extended his hand again.
“Ma’am, welcome. We’re here to assist you in
The chairman frowned, but she had his attention.
“Like what?” he asked. Waller smiled again, but this time it was sincere. He’d asked the right question, and at exactly the right time.
She had him.
“Go get it, girl,” she said.
Enchantress’s eyes followed Waller’s hand to the box containing her desiccated heart. She forced a tight little smile. Then—snap—she disappeared. The chiefs stared at one another, not certain what they had just seen.
Five seconds passed. Ten. Twenty.
“That’s all you’ve got?” the chairman said, breaking the silence. “I’ve seen David Copperfield do a helluva lot better.”
“Wait for it, sir,” Amanda responded, a bit of annoyance creeping into her voice. “It’s coming.”
SNAP!
Enchantress reappeared, unleashing a mild shockwave that scattered papers across the room. She dropped a thick binder on the table. A binder secured with Iranian seals. Written in Farsi.
Waller slid the binder to the chairman.
“Sir, how about a little something from the Weapons Ministry vault in Tehran?”
Cautiously, he opened the binder and leafed through the papers. His eyes widened in surprise.
“We’ve been chasing these plans for years.” The chairman slid the binder to General Conway, who rifled through it one page at a time.
“Thank you, Enchantress,” Waller said. “We’d like Dr. Moone back now.”
But Enchantress wasn’t paying attention.
Conway paused momentarily on a photograph.
It was the remaining jar from the cave.
Waller saw it, too. She quickly swiped the lock and opened the case. Without attracting attention, she shoved her pen inside.
Instantly Enchantress snapped around and stared at her. Then her skin began to retract, squeezing her face, strangling her with her own flesh. She tried to resist, but the pain was too great.
“Enchantress,” she whispered.
In an instant June Moone had returned. She looked up to Waller, pleading with her eyes.
“Please don’t make me bring her back.”
Rick Flag pushed a glass of water to her.
“It’ll be okay. I promise.”
Waller shook her head dismissively. “There’s no reason to be worried. I control her, as I will all the others to come. You and the rest of the world will never have to fear metas ever again.”
Tolliver stood up again, a broad, victorious smile coiled across his face.
“Mr. Chairman, sir. I move that we authorize Amanda Waller to establish Task Force X under the A.R.G.U.S. program.” Immediately all eyes turned to the chairman.
A moment later, he nodded his assent.
Waller, too, was grinning. She had won.
She always won.
Under the table, Rick Flag took June’s hand in his.
FIFTEEN
With its landing gear extended, descending at a constant three degrees, the KC-135 Stratotanker began its approach to the Belle Reve runway, less than five miles away.
The facility was pretty much in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a vast bayou of cypress trees and swampland. Only a long causeway connected it to the rest of the world, but the drawbridge was raised, isolating it further.
The aircraft was coming in low at an approach speed of 100 knots. It buzzed over patrol boats bristling with machine guns, manned by alert guards.
The prison looked like an Iraq firebase with its missile launchers, plastic barriers, camouflage netting, and patrolling Humvees. Nobody was getting in uninvited.
Even more important, nobody was getting out.
Captain Griggs watched as the Stratotanker hit the tarmac. Moments later it taxied to a halt. Waller, Flag, and Moone made their way down the ramp. He put on a big fake smile and closed the gap to shake hands with the colonel.
“Welcome to Belle Reve Special Security Barracks,” he said. Flag ignored his hand and nodded toward Waller.
“Kiss her ass,” he suggested. “She’s in charge.”
Without hesitation, Griggs turned to Waller and extended his hand again.
“Ma’am, welcome. We’re here to assist you in
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