put it another way,” Halstead said, his tone and bearing giving away the fact he was a classless asshole, “it’s better we get you straight on what the hell’s happening here before you stick all of our tits in a ringer again.”
I let my eyebrow creep skyward on that one. Marshwin coughed gently, as though she’d never heard that sort of language before. Wexford’s smile dimmed just a hint.
“My tits aren’t in any ringers just yet,” I said, keeping a measured tone. “Trust me, I keep track of these sort of things.”
Halstead turned his head around just enough to acknowledge me. He had the smirk of an asshole. “You may not realize it yet, but the next time you go before Congress, you will.” He turned back to Marshwin as if I were no longer there. “She’s a little slow.”
I resisted the urge to jam a hand down his collar and lift him up by the back of his neck. “I’m sorry,” I said, and I think my tone conveyed the fact that I wasn’t remotely sorry about anything, ever. “Did I miss something? Because so far the only thing that’s happened is that I’ve come face to face with a meta who’s killing UK citizens, and I lost my leg trying to apprehend him.” Wexford made a sympathetic noise and looked down at my legs. “I got better,” I assured him, wondering if anyone else got the Monty Python reference.
“Let me tell you what you’ve done,” Halstead said, his sneer settling as he shot Marshwin a she’s-so-stupid-let-me-educate-her look that was not reciprocated. Fortunately. “You’ve brought a handgun into the United Kingdom—”
“Two, actually,” I said.
“—you’ve prompted an exchange of gunfire—” Halstead went on.
“I’m the only one who shot,” I corrected.
“A UK citizen has been kidnapped—”
“And I tried to retrieve him, at great cost to life and limb,” I said. “Or at least at the cost of one limb.”
“WILL YOU SHUT UP, YOU SILLY LITTLE BITCH?” Halstead lost his shit. He came to his feet, face inflamed, and poked a finger that hit me just below the collarbone. I let him. Once. “I am the ambassador for the United States of America, and I will not have you make a mockery of us by shitting all over the laws of the United Kingdom, you prissy, high-minded little—” He jabbed at me again.
Less than a second later, he was screaming and grunting on the floor, his wrist twisted in a lock on the outside of my leg. I had my foot, the newly grown one, resting lightly on the side of his head, and his face was buried in Mary Marshwin’s carpeting. She was on her feet, hands on the edge of the desk in mild alarm, but she hadn’t made a move to grab her phone, which I considered to be to her credit. Wexford was standing a bit stiffly, but he did not look particularly upset. Maybe he hadn’t had time to get there just yet. Maybe he was secretly glad to see Halstead with his face buried in the floor.
“Excuse me for just a moment,” I said to both of them, apologetically, “this is an internecine dispute.”
Wexford cleared his throat and regained his powers of speech first. “Quite. Well.”
“Listen, dipshit,” I dropped the formality as I turned my head to speak down at Halstead, “I don’t know whose lower backside cheeks you kissed to get this post, but let me make something plain to you. You may be the Ambassador of the United States to the United Kingdom, but I am the am- badass -ador. I’m here to help them, and you’re being a dick. So, we’re going to listen to what our hosts have to say for a few minutes, and you’re going to learn to love the flavor of Ms. Marshwin’s carpet while we do. Understand?” I inwardly cringed at the inadvertent double entendre, but I had a feeling no one else caught that one, so I ignored it. My brother would have been laughing had he been here, though.
“ Mmmrgh—!” he started to say, his face half-buried in the pile. I pushed him down harder.
“I’ll take your silence as an answer,
I let my eyebrow creep skyward on that one. Marshwin coughed gently, as though she’d never heard that sort of language before. Wexford’s smile dimmed just a hint.
“My tits aren’t in any ringers just yet,” I said, keeping a measured tone. “Trust me, I keep track of these sort of things.”
Halstead turned his head around just enough to acknowledge me. He had the smirk of an asshole. “You may not realize it yet, but the next time you go before Congress, you will.” He turned back to Marshwin as if I were no longer there. “She’s a little slow.”
I resisted the urge to jam a hand down his collar and lift him up by the back of his neck. “I’m sorry,” I said, and I think my tone conveyed the fact that I wasn’t remotely sorry about anything, ever. “Did I miss something? Because so far the only thing that’s happened is that I’ve come face to face with a meta who’s killing UK citizens, and I lost my leg trying to apprehend him.” Wexford made a sympathetic noise and looked down at my legs. “I got better,” I assured him, wondering if anyone else got the Monty Python reference.
“Let me tell you what you’ve done,” Halstead said, his sneer settling as he shot Marshwin a she’s-so-stupid-let-me-educate-her look that was not reciprocated. Fortunately. “You’ve brought a handgun into the United Kingdom—”
“Two, actually,” I said.
“—you’ve prompted an exchange of gunfire—” Halstead went on.
“I’m the only one who shot,” I corrected.
“A UK citizen has been kidnapped—”
“And I tried to retrieve him, at great cost to life and limb,” I said. “Or at least at the cost of one limb.”
“WILL YOU SHUT UP, YOU SILLY LITTLE BITCH?” Halstead lost his shit. He came to his feet, face inflamed, and poked a finger that hit me just below the collarbone. I let him. Once. “I am the ambassador for the United States of America, and I will not have you make a mockery of us by shitting all over the laws of the United Kingdom, you prissy, high-minded little—” He jabbed at me again.
Less than a second later, he was screaming and grunting on the floor, his wrist twisted in a lock on the outside of my leg. I had my foot, the newly grown one, resting lightly on the side of his head, and his face was buried in Mary Marshwin’s carpeting. She was on her feet, hands on the edge of the desk in mild alarm, but she hadn’t made a move to grab her phone, which I considered to be to her credit. Wexford was standing a bit stiffly, but he did not look particularly upset. Maybe he hadn’t had time to get there just yet. Maybe he was secretly glad to see Halstead with his face buried in the floor.
“Excuse me for just a moment,” I said to both of them, apologetically, “this is an internecine dispute.”
Wexford cleared his throat and regained his powers of speech first. “Quite. Well.”
“Listen, dipshit,” I dropped the formality as I turned my head to speak down at Halstead, “I don’t know whose lower backside cheeks you kissed to get this post, but let me make something plain to you. You may be the Ambassador of the United States to the United Kingdom, but I am the am- badass -ador. I’m here to help them, and you’re being a dick. So, we’re going to listen to what our hosts have to say for a few minutes, and you’re going to learn to love the flavor of Ms. Marshwin’s carpet while we do. Understand?” I inwardly cringed at the inadvertent double entendre, but I had a feeling no one else caught that one, so I ignored it. My brother would have been laughing had he been here, though.
“ Mmmrgh—!” he started to say, his face half-buried in the pile. I pushed him down harder.
“I’ll take your silence as an answer,
Similar Books
