“There are some complications at home I’ve been trying to avoid.”
He caught it then, that sense of someone else. He didn’t even try to fight the wave of jealousy that surged through him. Rather than respond, he just continued through the hall and then pushed open the door to the briefing room.
During the twenty minutes he had been gone, six new computers had been set up on two long tables stretching across one wall. Each of the screens had four images on it, apparently feeding from the security cameras at the various metro stations in Washington DC.
Immediately, Amy zeroed in on the video images. “That looks like the metro station at Dupont Circle.”
Kel nodded, then shifted uncomfortably. “You probably shouldn’t be in here. Why don’t we go down the hall and you can tell us what you remember.”
Amy let out a little sigh. “If I’m going to be able to help you, I need to see what you already have.”
“I’m sorry, but you don’t have the proper security clearances,” Kel responded.
“We all know that there isn’t time for that.” Amy folded her arms across her chest and looked Kel in the eye. She sighed and pulled the strings she hated to use. “Look, my father is a senator, and my sister-in-law was in the Witness Protection Program for three years. If there was anything questionable in my past, the government would know about it. I won’t know what you’re looking for unless I know what you’ve already got.”
Brent stepped to her side. “She’s right. We can debrief her later, but we can’t afford to hold anything back now.”
“I am going to get so busted for this,” Kel muttered as he turned to Brent. “Show her whatever you need to.”
Five minutes later, Amy was sitting at a desk that has been pushed into the corner nearest the door. In the middle of the desk were all of the operation plans and debriefing notes from the hostage rescue, the background on the terrorists who had been involved, and several analyses of key figures in Abolstan.
Daunted by the task at hand, Amy decided to start at the beginning, scanning through the team’s report of the rescue operation. She tried to look at it objectively, but even scanning through the report brought back images of the shot ringing out that she had thought was meant for her. Taking a deep breath, she scanned through each team member’s individual report, trying to visualize their side of things.
She didn’t notice anything unusual, so she moved on to the reports on the continued violence in the capital city the night that she and Brent had escaped. Halfway through reading them, her mind caught up with what she had read in the first report. She picked it up again and looked at the team members’ reports again, this time with a purpose in mind. The two men guarding the hostages had been killed along with two more who had been out in the hall. Another nine had been killed when the SEALs secured the building.
Amy looked around and reached for the closest paper available, which happened to be from the printer hooked up to the computer Quinn was using.
“Can I borrow a pen?”
Quinn grabbed one off of his makeshift desk and held it out to her without even looking up.
“Thanks.” Amy sat back down and sketched out the hotel when they had been taken hostage. Two men had come into her room, and one had been outside in the hall. She forced herself to recall what she had seen during those terrifying moments when they were dragged from their rooms, their freedom violated.
Detailing the floor on which all of the hostages had been staying on that fateful day, she drew in little stick figures to represent each of their captors. Two had gone into each of the rooms, she was sure of it, and she distinctly remembered three armed men in the hallway. She looked through the reports one more time to make sure she had done the math correctly. Thirteen had been shot, but she had seen seventeen.
With her sketch in hand, she pushed out of her chair and crossed to where Brent was staring at the security feed from the various subway stations. “When you came in to rescue us, what happened to the other terrorists?”
Brent shifted his focus to her. “What other terrorists?”
“The reports indicate thirteen terrorists were killed. I remember at least seventeen.” She put her sketch down on the table and pointed
at her little stick figures. “Two came into each room, all at the same time. I remember at least three more were standing guard in the hall. In fact, one of them went to help when they pulled Frank out of his room because the first two couldn’t handle him alone.”
“That leaves four unaccounted for.” Brent stood and motioned to Kel. “During the hostage rescue, were there any terrorists still in the building when we left?”
“No, we cleared the building before the helicopter took off. We didn’t want to take a chance of someone being left to shoot us down.” Kel gave a careless shrug, ignoring the fact that in essence it had happened anyway. “Why?”
“Because we’ve got four terrorists unaccounted for,” Brent replied, showing him Amy’s sketch and explaining her analysis.
“Did all of them take shifts guarding you?”
Amy shook her head. “I don’t think so. They changed shifts a lot, but I don’t remember the ones in the hall ever guarding us, at least not inside the penthouse.”
“Can you remember what they looked like?”
“Sort of.” Amy flipped the paper over and did a quick sketch of the one who had been right outside of her room. His face had been emblazoned on her mind, along with the way he had looked at her as though her life was of no importance to him. She held out the drawing to Kel. “If you can get me a pencil, I can probably do a better one, but this should give you a general idea of what he looks like.”
Kel’s eyebrows rose as he looked at the paper in his hand. A composite artist couldn’t have done any better. “Can you do this for the other two who were in the hallway?”
“I can try.” Amy fiddled with the pen in her hand. “I didn’t see one of them very well, and I’m sure you can imagine that I was a little distracted at the time.”
“Tristan! Get me some pencils and paper,” Kel shouted across the room. He then turned back to Amy. “Do the best you can.”
Amy just nodded as Tristan handed her a dozen pencils and a ream of paper. As she sat down at her desk, Kel called out to her. “Hey Whitmore, welcome to the team.”
“Thanks.” Amy smiled with a new sense of belonging. She shifted the paper on her desk, picked up a pencil, and got to work.
CHAPTER 12
“Amy, you need to go get some sleep.” Brent laid a hand on her shoulder, concerned because she had spent the past four hours sketching the men who had taken her hostage and then devouring as much information as she could from the project files.
“It’s going to happen tomorrow, isn’t it?” Amy asked wearily.
“We think so.”
“Then I want to stay here,” Amy said. “Maybe I’ll be able to remember something that will help.”
“You aren’t going to do anyone any good if you don’t take care of yourself,” Brent insisted. Realizing that he was about to face her stubborn streak, he crossed the room to where Kel was looking over the latest intelligence report. Brent lowered his voice to make sure Amy didn’t hear him and said, “I think you may have to order her to take a break.”
Kel pushed back from his desk and stood up. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to get much more done tonight anyway. The subway opens at five o’clock eastern standard time, that’s eleven to us.” He rolled his neck, trying to work the kinks out of it. “Intel in Washington is going to keep running checks on the emails to that Palm Pilot, but so far we haven’t found anyone he was communicating with in the United States. We have another unit that’s going to come in here and watch the subway monitors in case someone tries to drop a package during the night.”
“Sounds like we have as much covered as we can from here,” Brent agreed. “Did anyone think to get Amy someplace to sleep tonight?”
“Quinn,” Kel called
out.
Quinn turned toward him. “Yeah?”
Kel grinned. “Thanks for volunteering. Call housing and find someplace for our new teammate over there to sleep,” he instructed, nodding in Amy’s direction. “Also, where did you put those cell phones?”
Quinn dug through a knapsack and fished out two cell phones. “Here you go.”
Kel passed them to Brent. “Here’s your phone, and we got one for Whitmore so we can keep track of her while she’s here.” He turned and raised his voice so everyone could hear. “Okay, everyone go get some sleep. We’ll start back up at 0600 hours.”
“Thanks,” Brent whispered.
“It’s going to take Quinn a few minutes to track down someplace for her to stay,” Kel reminded him. “Why don’t you go take her out for some dinner? There’s a Jeep out front.”
“I might just do that.” Brent grinned and took the keys Kel held out to him.
“Give Quinn a call when you’re finished with dinner and he’ll tell you where she’ll be staying.”
“Thanks.”
* * *
“What do you mean she’s not here?” Jim Whitmore growled at the doctor. He was normally a calm, reserved individual. But today had been anything but normal.
“I’m sorry, sir. She just got up and left.” The doctor fumbled with the chart he held in his hand. “The nurse said that an officer came in and signed her out.”
“Do you know who the officer was?”
“Yes, it was Lieutenant Miller. He gave the name and number of his commanding officer.” The doctor scribbled the information down on a piece of paper and handed it to the senator. “Housing should also know where she is staying. I’m sure we can get someone to take you over to the temporary quarters.”
“Where’s the nearest phone?”
“This way, sir.”
* * *
“I’d almost forgotten what real food tasted like after eating those energy bars,” Amy said as she spooned the last bite of sherbet into her mouth.
Brent stared at her across the table for a moment before motioning for the waiter to bring him the check. “You must be tired. I should get you over to your room.”
“Yeah, I guess I really should try to call my folks again. I still can’t believe no one was home when I called.”
“I’m sure someone already got word out to them,” Brent assured her as he tossed some bills on the table and stood up. He reached for her hand without thinking and led her out of the restaurant.
“How long will you be here before you go back home?”
“About a week.” Brent pulled open the door of the Jeep for her and then skirted around the front and got in beside her. “Assuming we’re right about tomorrow, it will take about four or five days to finish the reports and debriefings.”
Amy watched him as he retrieved his cell phone from his pocket and called Quinn to find out where she was staying tonight. A moment later he put the car in gear and glanced over at her. “Quinn set everything up for you. We just have to swing by and pick up the key.”
Amy nodded. She remained silent as they stopped to pick up the key and then drove to the base’s temporary housing. She wanted to ask if she would see him again after she left, but she was unable to voice the question. Somehow her wants and needs seemed trivial in the face of a terrorist attack in her backyard.
He pulled up in front of a residential building and got out of the Jeep to show her to the door. “Here we are.”
They walked up the short sidewalk together. When they reached the doorstep, Amy turned to thank him for everything, but her mind went blank. He had moved closer without her even realizing it. His eyes were dark, questioning, and little butterflies started dancing in her stomach. Without seeming to move at all, he slid a hand around her waist and drew her closer.
She could almost see his mind racing, his conscience battling between the spark that flashed between them and the ethics he was bound by. She thought she understood the ethics part—his concern that her feelings for him had bloomed from gratitude and dependence. Certain that she knew her own mind and heart, she didn’t believe for a minute that she would have developed feelings for just anyone, even after spending days with them in the desert.
Without thinking, she slid her arms around his neck as he lowered his lips to hers. The spark between them exploded, and her entire being focused on this one moment, this one man. A little warning bell sounded in her mind, telling her that what she felt for Brent might overpower her if she wasn’t careful.
This wasn’t a man who would be home every day at five o’clock for dinner, or whose ambitions she even understood. He was driven to protect, to serve. Duty would always come first, family second. She convinced herself she could never live that kind of life even as she let the sensation of his kiss seep through her.
Suddenly light spilled out onto the doorstep as the door opened behind them. Amy turned to see her father standing in the doorway.
“Dad?” She was torn between wanting it to really be her father in the doorway and hoping that she was just imagining it. Her eyes narrowed as she decided that she wasn’t imagining anything. She withdrew from Brent’s embrace and turned to throw her arms around her father’s neck. “Dad! What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you.” Jim Whitmore pulled his daughter close, breathing her in for a moment before he shifted his gaze to Brent. The look turned to a glare. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”
“I’m sorry.” Amy released her father, noticing the proprietary way he kept an arm around her waist. “Dad, this is Lieutenant Brent Miller. Brent, this is my father, Senator Jim Whitmore.”
“Senator.” Brent extended his hand and noted the senator’s brief hesitation before he reached out to shake.
“It seems I owe you a debt of gratitude for bringing my daughter home safely.” His voice was controlled and formal.
“She made the job easy,” Brent said simply.
Charlie’s voice came from the doorway, and a moment later Amy was scooped up by her older brother. “Thank goodness you’re okay.”
Amy laughed as he lifted her off her feet before setting her back down. “Charlie, this is Brent Miller. He’s the one who rescued me.”
Charlie leaned forward to shake Brent’s hand, his smile welcoming. “We owe you.”
“Not at all.” Brent nodded to Amy. “I’ll let you spend some time with your family. Would you like me to pick you up in the morning?”
“Please,” Amy said simply.
Brent nodded. “I’ll see you a few minutes before six.”
As soon as Jim had shut the door, he turned to Amy. “What’s at six?”
“I’m helping out with a little project tomorrow,” Amy answered, not sure how much she should say.
“I was planning on taking you home tomorrow,” Jim informed her. “Your mother has been worried sick.”
“We can’t go home tomorrow,” Amy insisted as panic rushed through her. “In fact, I’d feel a lot better if you could talk Mom into going to visit Matt and CJ for a couple of days.”
“She’s already at Matt’s house,” Jim said, his eyes narrowing. “Why?”
Amy let out a frustrated sigh. “I can’t say. I’m sorry, but it’s classified information.”
“Amy, I sit on the Senate Intelligence Committee. I have top secret clearance.”
“Then you can get the information yourself,” Amy replied. “I’m sorry, but I was told specifically not to discuss this with anyone.”
Jim stared at her, not so much with disbelief as with admiration. “Let’s call your mom, and then we’ll talk.”
* * *
Tears of relief and joy streamed down Katherine Whitmore’s cheeks as she talked to her daughter for the first time since their world had been turned upside down a week before. Amy assured her that she was just fine and that they would come home soon. In fact, she even suggested that they meet at Matt and CJ’s house in Florida for a family reunion of sorts.
Matt hovered nearby, and Katherine finally relinquished the phone to him so that he could hear for himself that Amy was safe and sound.
“When is she coming home?” CJ asked as soon as Katherine was off the phone.
“She said it will probably be a few days, but she wants to come visit here first.” Katherine wiped the moisture from her cheeks. “I think she wants to have all of us together before she has to start picking up the pieces of her life again.”
CJ nodded in agreement.
“I wonder what she’ll do now,” Katherine said, half to herself. “Maybe she’ll finally agree to work for Jim.”
CJ shook her head. “I wouldn’t count on that. I don’t think there’s any way she’s going to work there as long as Jared is still on his staff.”
“Why do you say that?” Katherine asked. Every time she saw Amy and Jared together, Jared was attentive to the point that she wondered if they would decide to get married after all.
“Jared still wants to marry her, so it’s awkward for her to be around him.” CJ shrugged. “I think she feels like she’ll be fighting her way out of a corner all the time if he’s around.”
“They made such a cute couple,” Katherine said as Matt hung up the phone.
“Who did?” Matt asked, sitting next to CJ and putting his arm around her.
“Amy and Jared,” CJ answered.
Matt just shook his head. “Jared really isn’t Amy’s type.”
“What makes you say that?” Katherine asked, surprised. Matt had never voiced any negative opinions about Jared before.
Matt looked at CJ as though waiting for her to answer. The only response he got was a shake of her head, and a look that clearly said it was his place to tell his mother what they had both long suspected.
“We’ve always wondered if Jared was more interested in being married to someone with Amy’s social status than in being married to Amy.”
“You think he was only interested in her to advance his career?” Katherine shook her head. “I have a hard time believing that. He’s such a nice young man.”
“Of course he’s nice. He’s still hoping to tap into Amy’s trust fund.” Matt pointed out. “And whether or not it’s true, that’s what Amy thought.”
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