Warbound: Book Three of the Grimnoir Chronicles by Larry Correia Page A

a meeting with the government and come out of it without having somebody like Crow working me over with brass knuckles, I consider that a home run.”
    “Thankfully, Donovan shut you up before you said anything really stupid. It wasn’t like he didn’t use something everybody already knew anyway.” The Washington Mall was still under heavy construction. Many of the buildings were still being repaired, and a few had needed to be torn down, leaving gaping fenced-in holes where there had once been landmarks. “And to think, last time I was here, I was about to get stepped on,” Dan said.
    “How’s that different than this time around?” The great claw marks were still visible on the Washington Monument, as nobody had really come up with a satisfactory method to fix that damage yet. No wonder everyone is so scared now.
    Dan sighed. “I suppose it’s a different behemoth doing the stepping, but we’re still getting squished.”
    “That’s not very optimistic.” But who could blame him? Soon it was going to be the law of the land that every person in America with magic was going to have to wear an armband identifying them as an Active and what type of magic they were capable of, all in the name of public safety . “You’re starting to sound like Sullivan . . . Or worse, Heinrich. Come on, let’s get a drink. I’ve had enough nonsense for one day.”
    There was a car waiting for them on the street, only it wasn’t Francis’ regular car, and it certainly wasn’t his regular driver. This driver was far too pretty. The lady was tall, statuesque, and doing her best to hide her good looks behind big dark glasses and a floppy hat. “Hello, gentlemen,” she said, gesturing toward the open rear door of a plain government Chevrolet. “Someone important would like to have a word with you.”
    “Why, Pemberly Hammer.” If Dan was surprised to see her here, he played it cool enough you’d never be able to tell. “How nice to run into you.”
    She tipped her big hat at Dan. Between it, the silver-blonde wig, and the fake glasses, nobody from the press would recognize the now-infamous corporate-espionage expert turned BI agent. “Why, Mr. Garrett,”—She sounded sweet, with just a hint of east Texas—“Why, bless your heart, you know you can’t lie to me.” Hammer was, after all, a Justice, and since Justices could always recognize the truth, lying to one was simply a waste of time.
    “Got me there. It’s not nice to see you. It’s frankly a bit suspicious . . . Nice car. Not as nice as that fancy Ford you used to have though.” It was a dig, and not a very subtle one, since Dan had been partially to blame for her last one getting wrecked by an Iron Guard.
    “Actually, before he up and disappeared off the map, Sullivan wired me some money to replace my car that he stole.”
    “He promised he would.”
    “Well, it was his fault the last one wound up on its roof.” Hammer smiled. “Imagine that, a man who keeps his word.”
    “Jake always keeps his word. He’s old fashioned like that, reliable as gravity.”
    “Yep. Good old Jake. Though I do wonder, where did he get off to with that fancy new warship of his?”
    “You should ask your boss. I’m fairly sure Jake asked for his help and got turned down.”
    “He didn’t ask me for my help,” she sniffed.
    “Okay, enough. Agent Hammer . . .” Francis didn’t know her very well, other than that Sullivan had vouched for her character, and she’d helped rescue him from Mason Island, but she worked for J. Edgar Hoover now, and it would be a cold day in Hell before Francis trusted Hoover or anybody on his payroll. “Where’s Sidney?”
    “Your driver was sent away, Mr. Stuyvesant. He tried to argue, but I did that whole flash-the-badge thing and he moved right along. I ever tell you how much I enjoy that? Don’t worry, I’ll have you back to your hotel in time for your dinner reservations. In the meantime, you need to come with me. Important top