Oath of Honor

by Radclyffe

  pen into the ink-stained pocket of his wrinkled lab coat. “I guess you

  can do the follow-up.”

  “I think I can handle that. Thanks for taking care of her.” Wes

  cupped Evyn’s face, brushed a thumb over her cheek. The ER physician

  disappeared through the curtains and Wes leaned forward and kissed

  Evyn softly. “Now, how are you really doing?”

  “I’m good. Even better now.” Evyn circled Wes’s wrist and

  pressed Wes’s palm to her face to reassure Wes, and herself. “I’d feel

  even better with my shirt on.”

  Laughing, Wes plucked the shirt from the chair, and the laughter

  died. Blood stained the shoulder and collar. Her hands trembled. Today,

  Evyn had been lucky. The next time, she might not be.

  “You know it always looks worse than it is,” Evyn said softly.

  “Right.” Wes held up the shirt. “This will have to do until we get

  you home and into something clean.”

  “I’m not going home,” Evyn said. “I want to get back to base for

  a sitrep. Roberts left a while ago to interrogate the suspects. Tom needs

  to be briefed, and—”

  “Evyn,” Wes murmured, “you’ve been shot, you’ve been given

  pain medication, and you need to rest. You’re on sick leave as of

  now.”“What? You can’t—” Evyn stared, her brow furrowing. “Hell, you

  can.”Wes said nothing, waiting for the anger and the resentment.

  They’d had so little time to find their personal balance and now they

  might never be able to. She had to pull rank—she had a duty to Evyn,

  to the president, to Evyn’s team—she had to take care of her, no matter

  the cost.

  “You better like cats.”

  “What?” Wes asked.

  “Cats. I come with a cat. And if I’m going home, so are you. As

  least until Roberts wants you back to debrief.”

  • 267 •

  RADCLY fFE

  “You want me to drive you home?” Wes couldn’t quite grasp what

  Evyn was saying. “You’re not pissed?”

  “Sure I am. I don’t get why you don’t appreciate how superhuman

  I am. After all, I’m a United States Secret Service Agent.”

  Wes smothered a smile. Evyn’s pupils were pinpoints. The

  medication was kicking in. “You are. And a stellar one.”

  “So—you’re coming home with me, then?”

  “I am.” Wes held up Evyn’s shirt. “This first.”

  Evyn slid her good arm into the sleeve, and Wes helped her thread

  the other sleeve over her injured left arm.

  “We alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “I take it everything’s all right with the package? The doc ditched

  his suits.”

  Wes nodded. “I called when I got the preliminary from the lab on

  my way in. The vial is intact.”

  “You weren’t compromised out in the field?”

  “No. I’ll take culture specimens from everyone to be complete,

  but I think we’re all in the clear thanks to your quick work out there.”

  Evyn started to shrug, then grimaced. Her shoulder burned. “Not

  quite quick enough. I wasn’t expecting the gun, but I guess I should’ve

  been. She’s military, after all. And on a mission.”

  “I would’ve preferred if you hadn’t used your body to stop the

  bullet.” Wes carefully buttoned Evyn’s shirt. She knew the risks of

  Evyn’s job, accepted them, knew the overwhelming odds were she

  would be safe, but there was always the threat that she would be hurt.

  Wes gripped the material harder, hiding the tremor in her hands. She

  kissed Evyn again. “You did well, all the same.”

  “Huh. Maybe.”

  Evyn pushed off the treatment table and swayed on her feet. “I

  was watching the hand on the bag—I was afraid she’d pull the virus out

  and toss the vial into the street as a diversion. It gave her just enough

  time to get the gun out. Dumb rookie move.”

  “Instinct. That’s what training is all about, right?” Wes slid her

  arm around Evyn’s waist. Evyn might not need the support, but she

  needed to touch her. Needed to be sure she was alive and well and hers.

  “I love you.”

  • 268 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

  Evyn rested her head on Wes’s shoulder, holding on to her with

  her good arm. “I love you too. Sorry if I gave you a scare.”

  “You did what you had to do. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you out

  there.”“You were where you needed to be, doing what needed to be

  done.” Evyn squeezed her. “Just like now. You’re here when I really

  need you.”

  “I always will be,” Wes promised.

  “You haven’t met my cat yet.”

  Wes laughed and softly kissed her. “Then we should go.”

  “Yeah.” Evyn pressed her face to Wes’s neck. “I want you, you

  know. Today. Every day. Feels good. Really good.”

  “I know. I’ll be here.”

  Evyn sighed. “So let’s go home.”

  • 269 •

  RADCLY fFE

  chapter thirty-fOur

  Derrick Sullivan slipped into the parlor and signaled discreetly

  to Russo.

  Russo smiled at the bejeweled, pencil-thin blonde by his side,

  grateful for the interruption. He only suffered her vacuous conversation

  because her husband was one of his largest campaign donors. “Will you

  excuse me, Mrs. Winthrop?”

  She pouted slightly. “Only if you promise to return.”

  “As soon as I possibly can—I want to hear more about those

  famous racehorses of yours.”

  She brightened and fluttered her thick lashes. “I can’t wait.”

  Russo threaded his way through the tuxedoed and coiffed crowd

  to where his aide waited just inside the door. “What is it, Derrick?”

  “Sorry to disturb you, sir, but you’re needed in the study.”

  “Dinner is being served in fifteen minutes.”

  “Yes, sir. Shall I tell the caterers to delay?”

  “No, go ahead. I’ll be there.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Russo ignored his wife’s questioning glance as he hurried out and

  down the hall to his study. He let himself in and closed the door behind

  him. Hooker lounged on a leather sofa facing the fireplace, one leg

  crossed over the other, his arms stretched out along the back. At least

  he’d worn presentable clothing, but he looked haggard—his face drawn

  and creased with fatigue.

  “It’s Christmas Eve,” Russo said, “and I’ve got a houseful of

  guests. What are you doing here?”

  “A problem,” Hooker said. “I could use a drink.”

  • 270 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

  Russo clenched his teeth but walked to the bar on the opposite side

  of the room and splashed whiskey into a glass. He set it on a polished

  mahogany table next to the sofa and made his way behind his desk.

  “You have ten minutes.”

  Hooker leaned over and picked up the drink. “The exchange was

  made on schedule, as planned, but the DC contact was intercepted.”

  “Arrested?” Russo asked, the hairs along the back of his neck

  tingling at the surge of adrenaline.

  “Detained, at the very least.”

  “Can we trust him—”

/>   “Her.”

  Russo rubbed his eyes and fought down the wave of anger. “You

  entrusted something of this magnitude to a woman?”

  “Believe me, she’s qualified.”

  “Apparently not that well qualified. What about the specimen?”

  “Confiscated.”

  “You’re telling me that all this time and money has been

  wasted?”

  Hooker’s mouth tightened. “I advised you against a plan this

  complex. Too many ways for it to go sideways.”

  “How did they find out?”

  “I don’t know. It’s going to take me some time to get back

  inside.”

  Russo tightened his fist. “You need to see that none of this comes

  back on us.”

  Hooker smiled. “Already being done.”

  “And how much is that going to cost me?”

  “The same as my original fee.”

  “The next time,” Russo said, making sure the threat was apparent

  in his voice, “I’ll expect no mistakes.”

  “Next time, maybe you’ll take my advice and use something more

  straightforward and dependable.” Hooker tossed back his drink and

  slapped the glass down on the expensive wood top with a sharp clink.

  “Like a rifle.”

  “I don’t like loose ends,” Russo said.

  “Neither do I. There aren’t going to be any.”

  Russo unlocked his bottom right-hand desk drawer and sorted

  through the cash. He relocked the drawer, walked around the desk, and

  • 271 •

  RADCLY fFE

  handed the money to Hooker. “Merry Christmas. I’ll have Derrick see

  you out.”

  v

  Blair jumped to her feet as Cam strode into Lucinda’s office.

  “You’re not hurt?”

  “No.” Cam kissed her quickly. “We’re all okay. Evyn Daniels has

  a flesh wound, but she should be fine.”

  “And the virus?” Lucinda said, coming around to the front of her

  desk. “Contained?”

  “All but a certainty,” Cam said. “We’ve all been cultured, but the

  lab reported the vial appeared to be intact. They say the likelihood of

  infection is very low.”

  “Good news, then,” Blair said.

  Cam grimaced. “Not exactly.”

  Lucinda straightened. “What?”

  “I don’t suppose you have anything stronger than coffee?”

  Lucinda smiled faintly and gestured to the two chairs in front of

  her desk. “Both of you, go ahead and sit.” She walked back around to

  the other side. “Scotch work for you?”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “Blair?”

  “No. Thanks.”

  Cam settled into the chair and leaned her head back with a sigh.

  Blair eased onto the arm and stroked Cam’s hair. “You’ve been at it for

  hours. You need a break.”

  “I’m okay.” Cam opened her eyes and smiled up at her. “How are

  you doing?”

  “Fine, now that you’re here. We only got a partial report from the

  field, and when they said an agent had been wounded, I had a couple

  of bad moments.”

  “I’m sorry, I called as soon as I could, but—”

  “I know. You can’t stop in the middle of what you’re doing to

  check in with me.” Blair slid her arm around Cam’s shoulders and

  leaned down to kiss her. “So I’m just going to have to worry once in a

  while. I can handle it.”

  Cam gripped her hand. “I’ll try not to make it too often.”

  • 272 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

  “Deal.”

  “Here you are.” Lucinda held out a short heavy glass filled with

  an inch of amber liquid.

  “Thanks.” Cam swallowed down half. “I don’t think there’s

  anything quite as scary as fanatics. Practically impossible to interrogate.

  They can’t be intimidated, and when they’re absolutely certain they’re

  right—which is always—they’ll protect the rest of their bunch no

  matter the consequences.”

  “I take it the lieutenant isn’t talking?” Lucinda asked.

  “Oh, she’s talking,” Cam said. “She’s adamant she had no idea

  what was in the package, that she’d never met the man in the diner

  before, and she only drew her weapon because she felt threatened by

  Agent Daniels.”

  Blair snorted. “You’re kidding me, right? We’re supposed to

  believe that she thought Evyn was going to accost her? What about the

  virus?”

  “She insists she thought she was carrying a gift from her sister.

  Unfortunately, the taped phone conversation from last night could be

  construed as supporting that story.”

  “Oh sure, right. How does she explain this guy passing her the

  vial, then?”

  “She claims she’s an unwitting victim in a scheme to spread the

  virus in the White House. According to her, the real boyfriend is still en

  route—and this guy hacked her e-mail to look for a cover story.”

  “They’re smart,” Blair snarled. “While it’s a little outrageous, it

  could be possible.”

  Lucinda tapped her fingers on her desk. “What do we have for

  leverage to force her to cooperate?”

  “Right now? Not much—the lab tech, Angela Jones, disappeared

  the same day the virus went missing. We’ve got her name and her

  suspected association with Jennifer Pattee. We’ll work that. And we

  have Pattee’s contact in custody.” Cam set the unfinished scotch on

  Lucinda’s desk. “And there’s the other problem. He says he was hired

  to make the delivery yesterday—that a friend of a friend called him and

  offered him ten grand to meet a woman and pass her a package.”

  “He’s claiming to know nothing of what was in the package?”

  Lucinda asked.

  “According to him,” Cam said, “he’s just a messenger.”

  • 273 •

  RADCLY fFE

  Blair jumped up and paced a step, then spun back. “Are you

  kidding me? What about the phone call to Pattee the night before?”

  “Scripted for him. That and the conversation in the diner. He was

  just playing a role.”

  “And what did he think that was?” Blair said.

  Cam shrugged. “He says he didn’t care—the money was good.”

  Lucinda leaned back in her desk chair, frowning. “Who is he?”

  “His name is Elliot Marsh—ID’d from his license. Appears to be

  a legit ID.”

  “Let me guess,” Lucinda said dryly. “He’s from Idaho.”

  “Bingo.”

  Blair pointed a finger at Cam. “You know it’s bigger than these

  two. There has to be a conspiracy.”

  Cam nodded. “I do know, and we’ll unravel it. But it’s going to

  take time and likely mean we’ll be putting people undercover.”

  “And in the meantime?” Blair asked. “What about Jennifer and

  this guy Marsh?”

  “Oh,” Cam said with a hard smile, “they’re not going anywhere.”

  “We cannot allow this attack to go unanswered,” Lucinda said,

  fixing her attention on Cam. “I want you to put together a task force

  and find out who’s behind this. You’ll head it and report directly to

  Averill.”

  Cam glanced at Blair.

  “Yes
,” Blair said softly, taking Cam’s hand. “Yes. Whoever they

  are, they have to be stopped.”

  Cam squeezed her hand. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

  • 274 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

  chapter thirty-five

  Evyn woke to the rasp of Ricochet’s tongue on her ear and the

  deep rumble of his purr. She didn’t remember falling asleep.

  She only vaguely remembered the ride home. But she remembered

  the bright December sunlight and the fury in Jennifer Pattee’s eyes.

  She remembered glimpsing her colleagues, her friends, closing in

  as Jennifer’s hand dipped into the black leather bag slung over her

  shoulder, and she remembered the threat of death that would have

  followed a quick toss of a fragile vial filled with lethal virus into the

  street. She remembered the glint of sunlight on metal. Saw the gun

  come up. Pointed at her. She hadn’t thought, hadn’t needed to. Her

  body moved, conditioned and trained a thousand times over for exactly

  that moment.

  Her mind clearer now, she knew her part in the greater picture

  was a small one. She’d helped stop an attack on the president of the

  United States. She’d done her job, the job she had wanted to do all her

  life. Her part was over, but the war was just starting. There were more

  like Jennifer and those who had conceived of the assault—at home

  and abroad—those who called themselves patriots and translated their

  fanaticism into violence. She’d keep doing her job, and the job would

  be more demanding than it had ever been. She didn’t mind, she was

  ready.Carefully, she turned onto her uninjured side, dislodging Ricochet

  from his spot on her pillow. He stretched, gave her the insulted look

  only a cat could muster, and stalked away.

  Wes lay beside her, the strong planes and angles of her face

  softened by sleep and the morning light. Evyn touched her bare shoulder.

  • 275 •

  RADCLY fFE

  Warm. Warm, soft skin. Wes’s mouth curved into a small smile, making

  her handsome face achingly vulnerable. Want and wonder stirred in

  Evyn’s soul. She kissed her, just a light brush of lips, and Wes’s eyes

  fluttered open. Clear spring green—innocent and vibrant and gloriously

  beautiful.

  “Sorry,” Evyn whispered.

  “Not for the kiss, I hope.”

  “It’s early. Go back to sleep.”

  “Mmm. Merry Christmas.”

  Evyn laughed. “Hell, it is!” She hugged Wes. “Merry Christmas. I

  didn’t get you a present.”