by Debra Webb
“That would be the one.” And that would be the extent of Redmond’s knowledge on the project. Only the president herself would know more. Even she didn’t know everything. The Collective saw to that. Briefed her personally with a presentation that promised the kind of research that could eliminate catastrophic diseases altogether. And it was true. The only thing that wasn’t covered was the defense part of their work. That part was secretly funded by the Pentagon. If the president ever found out and didn’t like it, she’d simply have to take that up with her joint chiefs of staff. She would know more eventually…just not yet. Not until it became necessary, as it had with her predecessor.
“Well, you’re talking to the wrong man,” Redmond said with an amused chuckle. “She won’t let me touch that project. She already has an advisor on that one.”
He had to mean Winslow. It was his job to ensure that the president took care of their needs. He’d fallen down on that end with the previous administration. The Collective was counting on him to make sure that didn’t happen this time.
“Well, Mr. Vice President,” O’Riley began by way of ending the meeting, “I appreciate your time. We just wanted you to know that you had been cleared of suspicion. I’m sure our advisor has taken care of our needs.”
Redmond slanted him a pointed look. “I guess you’d better be talking to that congressman you seem to think you have in your pocket. Because if you think Winslow is working for you, you’re wrong. He’s pushing for funding to be cut. Has a new project on the table, off the record, of course.”
O’Riley resisted the urge to smack that smug look off his face. “I’m sure you’re mistaken,” he prodded, needing confirmation.
Redmond shook his head from side to side. “Oh, no. No way. She’s reviewing the package right now. If Winslow has his way, it’ll be buried in the next bill she signs off on. You’ve been had, my friend. He’s been pushing this new project since the final months of the last administration.”
“Thank you, sir.” O’Riley stood. “I won’t forget your cooperation.”
For the first time since they met, Redmond offered his hand. “I’m always happy to provide assistance.”
“I’ll remember that.”
O’Riley walked away.
He had his confirmation now.
Winslow was working with Galen.
The whole strategy to undermine the president’s mental stability was an effort to sway her. She’d likely stood on her principles of supporting Center. When Winslow couldn’t sway her, he’d opted to get her out of power, if only temporarily. Killing her husband and making her look unstable would do the trick. Obviously, Redmond was anyone’s dog who would hunt with him. He would have rolled over for next to nothing. Winslow had known that and used it to his advantage.
The Collective would be out and the Concern, obviously headed by Galen, would be in.
How interesting.
Too bad it wasn’t going to work.
Chapter Eleven
“It’s the only right thing to do, Madam President.”
Caroline considered Congressman Winslow a moment before she spoke. Something about him needled at her. He was a respected member of Congress, hailed from a conservative midwest state…and yet.
“Why don’t you leave the reports with me and let me review them a little more closely,” she offered, unwilling to commit without further consideration.
He nodded, however reluctantly. “Certainly.” She didn’t miss his lingering glance at the stack of reports in question. Obviously he did not want to leave the package.
Too bad.
She didn’t make snap decisions. She and her closest advisors would need time. His continued pressure that she shift her support from one project to another didn’t feel right. After five terms on the Hill he knew the way things worked around here. His impatience was simply out of hand.
Caroline stood, a blatant act of dismissal. “I’ll have an answer for you first thing in the morning.”
Winslow pushed to his feet and straightened the lapels of his obviously expensive suit. “I’ll look forward to hearing from you, President Winters. Time is of the essence here. This funding proposal really needs to go through with tomorrow’s congressional package.”
As they walked to the door, he paused. “You know, your father tried to get this project off the ground more than a decade ago. Perhaps you should look back at his old personal files if they’re still available.”
When the door was closed behind Winslow, Caroline gave him twenty seconds to make his way along the corridor and out of sight. She jerked the door open and motioned for Agent Levitt to join her.
Her mother. She’d have to call her mother first.
What if she wasn’t home?
Caroline rubbed at the pressure that had begun in the center of her forehead. She had to be home. If she wasn’t, Caroline knew where the spare key was kept.
“Yes, Madam President?” Levitt waited expectantly for her orders.
Why waste the time? Her father’s files were stored in a closet in his office. Some of the older ones might have been relocated to the attic, but those from the last few years would still be downstairs where Caroline had put them. Her mother wouldn’t have moved anything without mentioning it. She had to see those files. Winslow had purposely dropped that little tidbit. She wanted to know if he would be so bold as to lie.
After a quick check with her secretary to see that her schedule for the remainder of the afternoon was clearable, Caroline turned her attention to Agent Levitt who waited patiently.
“I need to go to my mother’s home in Bethesda. Can you arrange that in the next few minutes?”
Levitt nodded. “Right away, ma’am.”
The agent was already murmuring orders into his communications link as he left her office. Caroline had never been more thankful for his ability to react on a moment’s notice.
After clearing her desk, Caroline gathered her purse and placed the reports Winslow had left in her briefcase and started toward the door. It opened just as she reached it.
“Oh.” She pressed her hand to her throat, startled. “Justin, I need to make a quick trip to Mother’s. Do you want to come along?”
“I’d love to.” He reached for the briefcase. “Let me help you with that.”
Glad to relinquish the heavy bag she smiled. “Thanks.”
The trip to her childhood home took only a few minutes, considering they had missed the worst of the evening rush-hour traffic. The front car pulled to the curb, leaving the drive open for the SUV in which Caroline rode. A third vehicle parked behind the first along the curb in front of the classic colonial two-story.
Lora Mattson met Caroline and her entourage at the door. Levitt and two men entered the home first and ensured that all was clear while Caroline, her mother and Justin waited in the entry hall with two other agents.
“I’ll never get used to this, Caroline,” her mother said. “It was bad enough with your father’s minimal security detail.”
“Sorry.” Caroline kissed her mother’s cheek. “I hope I haven’t showed up at a bad time.”
“Having you drop by is never a problem.” Lora hugged Justin. The gesture appeared to startle him. “It’s good to see you, Justin.” She beamed a smile up at him. “I’m so thankful you’re all right.”
Lora Mattson rarely ventured into D.C. anymore. Her visits to the White House were even more rare. It wasn’t that she wasn’t proud of her daughter’s accomplishment, but she still resented that politics had taken her husband from her. Caroline felt certain that was the same reason she’d never pursued a relationship with Rupert. She didn’t want to fall in love with another man whose mistress was Capitol Hill.
Usually they kept in touch by phone or Caroline dropped by. But lately that had been far too infrequently. Emotion welled in her as she regarded her mother’s aging beauty. As much as she loved her mother and didn’t want to lose her, it was the natural cycle of life. Sometimes she wondered about
the projects they funded. Was the constant search for eternal good health really worth the cost? Was it even meant to be?
Pushing aside the uncharacteristically somber thoughts, Caroline smiled brightly for her mother. “Mother, make us some of your Earl Grey while I prowl around in father’s old files.”
“Madam President,” Levitt approached, “the house is clear.”
Lora Mattson rolled her eyes. “Well, I could have told you that.”
Caroline had to laugh. Her mother would never get it. Maybe she was better off that way.
Lora disappeared in the direction of the kitchen and Caroline and Justin went straight to her father’s study.
The moment she opened the intricately carved wooden doors her father’s essence assailed her senses. It still smelled like him. Every stick of furniture, every carefully selected piece of art represented the man who had once held court in this room.
The massive wood desk remained just as he’d left it. The final papers he had reviewed were still spread across his blotter pad. The pen he’d used to sign a piece of correspondence lay across one page in particular.
Other than the occasional dusting, no one ever came into this room. Her mother didn’t want it disturbed. She tolerated Caroline’s plundering because her father wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
Justin placed the briefcase in a chair. “What are we looking for?”
Caroline went to the closet on the far side of the room. “His files from those past couple of years before…” Before he died, she didn’t bother to say. Justin knew what she meant. Several boxes were stacked on the floor. A fine layer of dust covered them. It had been a while since she had gone on a scavenger hunt.
She lugged out a box, Justin followed with two. As they set the boxes on the floor and dropped down next to them she considered her husband for a moment. He didn’t appear to have any lingering problems from the crash…well, discounting his lapses in memory. But everyone had those from time to time. What really fascinated her was how quickly the scars faded. The ones on his back were scarcely visible anymore and the one on his face was barely there as well. You would never know he had been shot just days ago. He still wore a bandage, but he never complained about it.
Maybe her mind had exaggerated the damage when she’d first seen him. She had, after all, been in a sort of shock. Shrugging off the thought, she focused on the dozens upon dozens of manila folders. Each contained some report or project or grant that her father had reviewed respective to his work.
“Do you have a subject?” Justin asked as he opened one of the boxes closest to him.
Caroline reached for the briefcase and pulled the reports from inside it. After scanning the cover page of one, she said, “Look for Project Genesis.”
Cain thumbed through the files, careful not to show any outward indication of the uneasiness gushing through him. Project Genesis was the original name for Project Eugenics. The Collective had restructured the program, starting with a new name after Dr. Galen had left.
Why would Caroline want information on Genesis? Why would her father have even had any dealings with Genesis? To Cain’s knowledge it had been defunct for over a decade. His gut clenched in warning. This had something to do with her meeting with Winslow. He hadn’t been able to listen in on the conversation; apparently Winslow had had himself some sort of jammer as well. But Cain had watched. He’d noted subtle changes in Caroline’s posture and facial expressions during the course of the meeting. She hadn’t liked what she was hearing.
Cain scrubbed a hand over his chin. He would have to get word to O’Riley. Winslow might be playing both sides. Cain couldn’t make an accusation of that caliber without evidence. Winslow was the head of the Collective. Questioning his integrity could be seen as treason. Yet, Cain had no choice but to report what he had seen as well as what he suspected based on gut instinct.
His instincts rarely failed him.
“Here we go.” Caroline pulled a thick file from the box she’d been sifting through. “Genesis.” She took the file as well as the report Winslow had left with her and moved to her father’s desk. She glanced up then. “This may take a while, Justin. Do you want to have tea with mother while I read through this?”
He nodded, his attention riveted to the folder. “Sure.” He needed to know what was in that folder. By delving into the past she might very well be endangering herself without realizing it. He had to…stop it somehow.
“I’ll just put these boxes away.”
“Thanks,” she murmured distractedly, already deeply focused on the pages in front of her.
Cain placed the boxes back in the closet, ensuring that the one that had held the file she’d taken was on top. The storage closet consisted of rows of shelves where boxes of files, books and other mementos of her father’s professional life were stored.
As he left her father’s study, Caroline’s head remained bent over the file. Cain didn’t bother to say anything. He was far too preoccupied himself. He had to know the contents of those pages.
In the entry hall Agent Levitt and two more of his men loitered, waiting for word from their commander in chief. Cain nodded an acknowledgment and continued through the house toward the kitchen. As a part of his preparations he had studied the floor plan of her childhood home in the event he might end up here. Another thing he hadn’t understood until recently was the human need to cling to one another, to maintain close ties.
His only connections were to his peers at Center, the other Enforcers. But that was different…professional not personal. This was deeply personal. It was something he had just come to understand…had just scratched the surface actually.
Mrs. Mattson was pouring hot water into a silver teapot as Cain entered the kitchen. She looked up and smiled. He returned the gesture.
Caroline resembled her mother. Both had the same hazel eyes. Age had turned the mother’s dark hair silver. Physically she looked in excellent condition for a woman beyond the age of sixty.
“Is she buried in a file already?” Lora sighed as she fretted with the china cups and silver spoons. “She always did dive into whatever she had on her mind.” She looked directly at Cain then. “Just like her father. It’s easy to be forgotten when your spouse is busy seeing after the whole nation.”
Her eyes glimmered with emotion. Cain recognized the reaction as tears. Another of his own new acquaintances. She missed her husband…missed her daughter who had little time for her these days.
Cain read the feelings as easily as if she’d spoken them out loud. “She loves you,” he said, knowing those were the words she wanted to hear. Her need was palpable.
Lora Mattson swiped at her eyes. “Oh, I’m getting foolish in my old age. Of course, she loves me.” She offered the tray to him. “Just like she loves you.”
He blinked, startled for the second time today as he accepted the tray.
Caroline’s mother sighed wistfully. “Honestly, Justin, having you back has made all the difference. She looks happier than I’ve ever seen her.”
He nodded, uncertain of what he should say in return. Uncertain of his voice.
She leaned close to him as she led the way back to the long entry hall. “Maybe this happy reunion will give me the grandchild I’ve always wanted.”
The tray shook in his hands and Lora Mattson winked at him as if understanding his uneasiness.
Child.
He hadn’t considered that kind of complication. He hadn’t given any thought to what would happen after the mission other than the certainty he would never be allowed to see Caroline again.
Unprotected sex.
That’s what their lovemaking had been. Whether or not she utilized any sort of birth control was not a part of the operation’s profile. He couldn’t help wondering then how Center would react to such a breach. And it would be a breach of protocol if not security.
Center owned him.
They would own his offspring.
To his knowledge there was no pro
tocol for breeding among Enforcers.
Yet another new dilemma to ponder.
While Lora Mattson served the tea to her daughter in her father’s study, and to the restless agents standing by, Cain experienced a whole new emotion.
Fear.
If Caroline Winters were to become with child as a result of their joining, her life as well as the child’s would no longer be her own.
Her life would be worthless now if he learned that she and Winslow were plotting to overthrow the Collective.
Every finely honed instinct he possessed warned that he needed to brace himself for that inevitability.
For the next hour while Caroline remained transfixed by the Winslow report and her father’s file, Lora Mattson gave Cain a guided tour of her daughter’s life via family photos.
“I know you’ve heard all this before,” she had worried, clearly delighted at the prospect of boasting about her daughter’s exploits as well as her accomplishments.
“I’m happy to hear it again,” he had asserted.
Cain studied the photographs of Caroline as a child, then as a blossoming young woman. Her beauty amazed him. Everything about her appealed to him. Seeing her barefoot in the sand on a beach or in cap and gown at graduation he longed to share those kinds of moments with her. He wished he could feel the sand between his toes…feel the sun on his face…while holding her in his arms.
But that was impossible.
He jerked from the fantasy and forced himself to think rationally. He couldn’t let these emotions control him. He was far stronger than that. The sensations might be new to him, but he would conquer them.
His gaze sought and settled on the picture of Caroline.
He had no choice.
THOUGH HER FATHER’S files had backed up Winslow’s assertions, Caroline still felt uncomfortable with the situation. Perhaps she would look at them once more in the morning before calling Winslow.
She looked at her husband’s profile in the dim light of the SUV’s interior as they journeyed back to the White House. He took her breath away. He was so very handsome. The way he could make her feel with a mere look…a simple touch. She sighed. Heat swirled low and deep in her belly.