Oath Of Honor

Chapter Twenty-three

Senator Russo received a text in the middle of breakfast. The alert read HK1. He’d been waiting two days for this update. Setting his fork aside, he swiped his thumb over the banner alert and read the five words that sent a swell of satisfaction streaming through him. The item is in hand. He deleted the message, wiped his mouth with a pressed linen napkin, and said to his wife, “I’m sorry, my dear, I need to return this call. The car will be here in half an hour. You’ll be ready?”

He wasn’t really asking, but his wife seemed to do better with the stresses of campaigning when she could cling to the trappings of civility she’d been raised with. She wasn’t fond of public appearances under the best of circumstances, and even less so now that his speeches increasingly drew protesters from some liberal leftist group or another. He’d assured her this was expected when someone with his strength of conviction and popularity engaged the people and spoke the truth. Her Southern belle sensibilities would have annoyed him more if her family name wasn’t helping him to carry the Deep South.

So he played the game she needed, as long as she did as he wanted. She understood she had to be by his side during these events—he was running on a family-values platform, and she was the figurehead of his, naturally. Thus far he’d managed to keep the whole issue of his eldest daughter’s absence from the campaign trail in the background. Nora had spun Jac’s history as a war veteran into some very positive press while simultaneously downplaying her sexual escapades and questionable choice in partners. Since Jac had made it plain she wouldn’t take part in his public appearances, that was the best they could do in terms of damage control. Fortunately, he had another daughter, a younger, feminine, wholesome daughter who didn’t have any choice about participating.

“Yes, of course I’ll be prompt,” his wife said quickly, an altogether artificial smile failing to erase the anxious shadows in her eyes. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Wonderful.” He smiled. “Wear the blue suit. It looks good on camera. And goes so nicely with your eyes.”

“Thank you,” she said, her attention on her plate. “I will. Yes.”

He strolled toward his study, mentally reviewing his remarks for the town meeting Nora had scheduled later that morning in Nevada. He wanted to use the community forum to demonstrate his solidarity with the American people and distance himself from the recent emphasis by members of the press on his private wealth. He might live differently from most Americans, thanks to his wife’s family money, but he was still one with the people. He unlocked his study door and walked in, pleased with the way things were going for the moment.

Once behind his desk, he unlocked another drawer, removed a disposable cell phone, and called Hooker. “I got your message. No problems, I take it?”

“I made the exchange for the amount we agreed upon. I’ll have it tomorrow. None too soon either.”

“You’re certain of its authenticity?”

“As certain as I can be,” Hooker said. “It’s not like I’m an expert on this sort of thing. I’m mostly the courier here.”

“Courier or not, I’ll hold you responsible for any malfunction.”

“You’re not the one who’ll be sitting with this stuff in his refrigerator. It gives me the creeps,” Hooker snapped. “You hired me to broker the deal and run interference between the players. I fulfilled my contract. Once this is out of my hands, I’m done.”

Russo clamped down on his temper. As insubordinate as Hooker could be, he had excellent contacts, he got the job done, and he was as trustworthy as any man in his profession. The election campaign was just getting started, and he’d need Hooker’s services again. “You’re right, of course. What news do you have from DC?”

“Not much. So far the transition hasn’t been a problem.”

Russo grunted, irritated by the unexpected speed with which the usually slow White House bureaucracy had replaced the WHMU chief. “The inevitable disruption may work to our favor.”

“If we move fast.”

“Then by all means, let’s move forward.” Russo glanced at his desk calendar. December was more than half over. Soon the holidays would be in full swing. “You have his itinerary?”

“Updated as of this morning.”

Russo smiled. “We might want to advance the timetable.”

“I just need time to brief the deliveryman.”

“Very good. I’ll be in touch. And nice work.” Russo disconnected and locked the phone back in his desk. His plan was bold and some would say extreme, but they lived in extreme times. The American people had become complacent, with economic woes taking center stage in the public’s awareness and fading memories of a terrorist attack smothering patriotism. The public needed a wake-up call, and nothing stirred national fervor like an attack at home. The time was ripe for the right leader to lead them on the path to moral redemption and renewed power. He was ready.

*

“Please fasten your seat belts, we’re beginning our descent into Washington Reagan National Airport,” the flight attendant announced.

“Hey,” Evyn said softly. “Wes, we’re landing.”

Fuzzy-headed, Wes opened her eyes and concentrated on orienting herself. Airplane. Cramp in her shoulder. Her cheek on Evyn’s shoulder. She pushed up quickly. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay. You went out fast as soon as we were airborne. You needed the rest.”

“I slept most of the morning.” Evyn had booked them a late afternoon flight, and after they’d taken turns showering, Wes had fallen asleep watching CNN. She’d awakened after noon on top of the bed with a blanket over her. Evyn had covered her while she slept. Remembering that small gesture made her shift in her seat until their bodies no longer touched. She wasn’t used to relying on anyone, and discovering she liked the feeling of being cared for wasn’t entirely welcome. Especially when the caring came from Evyn.

“How are you feeling?” Evyn asked.

“A little stiff,” Wes said, stretching out in the cramped space. She didn’t want Evyn to worry—or to think she needed looking after. Evyn had done enough. “I’m okay. I think the downtime this morning really helped.”

“You were shivering this morning—still chilled?”

Wes couldn’t answer that question. Physically, she felt warmer—the pervasive cold that had lingered in her body long after Evyn had pulled her out of the ocean had finally disappeared, but a glacial throbbing had taken up residence in the center of her being. She ached inside in a way she never had, even when she’d been a child uncertain of the future, even when she’d been physically and psychologically depleted after weeks in the desert. The closer they came to DC—the nearer the moment when she and Evyn would go back to being only professional colleagues—the more pervasive the sense of loss. She didn’t regret the decision. They couldn’t work together and be anything more than colleagues, even if they’d wanted to be more. And Evyn had made it clear what they’d shared had been an isolated occurrence.

Wes had made hard decisions all her life and accepted the consequences, even when they hurt. Pain wasn’t deadly—even though this hurt as much as anything she’d ever experienced. “Thanks for handling everything. I owe you.”

“No, you don’t.” Evyn’s voice shook. “I wanted to do everything I did—including last night. You know that, don’t you?”

Wes covered Evyn’s hand where it rested on the armrest between them. “How could I not know? You speak beautifully with your body.”

Evyn caught her breath. “You always surprise me in the most amazing ways. No one has ever said anything as wonderful to me before.”

“Then they weren’t paying attention.” Wes smiled, steadfastly refusing to think of the other women Evyn had known. Jealousy was a foreign sensation and, rationally, totally unfounded. Irrational or not, she still didn’t want to imagine anyone touching her. She seemed to have lost the ability to reason when she’d first become aware of wanting to kiss her.

“Maybe I was the one not paying attention.” Evyn searched her memory for a time she’d felt this connected—and feared it so much. She gripped Wes’s hand. The lights of DC came into view. A wave of panic slid over her—she couldn’t help feeling as if they were running out of time, as if she was about to lose something vital without even knowing it. “Wes—I don’t want you to think last night wasn’t special.”

“I don’t think that. Why would I?”

“I know you must think I do that sort of thi—”

“Whoa—hey. What I think is that we both wanted last night to happen.”

Wes’s hand was so warm, so damn perfect in hers. Evyn wanted to reverse the clock—start the last few days over. She wanted to keep Wes safe, she wanted to take her out to dinner when they weren’t both exhausted, she wanted to make love with her when they weren’t hurt or displaced or scared of losing their fragile connection. Hell. She wanted to date her, maybe more—something she hadn’t wanted with anyone, possibly ever. “I think I fucked this up.”

“No, you didn’t,” Wes said. “You gave me everything I needed.”

The lights of the tower flashed red across the sky. The runway lights glowed brighter by the second. Another minute and they’d be on the ground. Evyn willed time to slow. She needed a little more time—when had everything gotten away from her? “We’ll have to get a cab—the team will have taken the SUV back to the House. We can share one as far as your hotel, and then I’ll go pick up my car.”

“That’s okay,” Wes said. “We can head straight to the House. I want to spend a few hours at the office. I’ve been away more than I’ve been there since I’ve arrived, and it’s time I got some things organized.”

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” Evyn wouldn’t mind the few extra minutes together, but Wes was pale. “You’re still looking pretty beat.”

“We’re coming up on the holidays. We’ll be working doubles between now and after New Year’s so everyone can have time off. I need to review the duty rosters and the travel schedules—and about a dozen other things.”

The plane touched down and the engines whined into their deceleration.

Please remain seated until the captain has taxied to the gate and turned off the seat belt sign.

“What are you doing for Christmas?” Evyn asked.

“I’m the new guy, remember? I’m working.”

“You’re also the boss.”

“Half the team has kids—they need to be with family.”

“What about yours?”

Wes smiled. “They’re used to me being away for holidays. They understand. You?”

“Ah—I volunteered to take the holiday shifts too. Good overtime, plus my sibs and I gave my parents a cruise for Christmas. They’ll be gone until after New Year’s anyhow.”

“So we’re in the same boat again,” Wes said.

“Seems to happen a lot.” People around them began standing and opening the overhead bins. Evyn realized she was still holding Wes’s hand. She had to let go, and when she did, last night would really be over. She slipped her fingers free. The cabin lights came on full and she blinked. Passengers filed past. Wes released her seat belt and searched Evyn’s eyes, questions in hers.

“So what’s next?” Wes asked.

“More of the same.”

“Hopefully no more water exercises.”

“No.” Evyn grimaced. “We’re done with those. Probably keep the sims to half-days and finish up this week.”

“How am I doing?” Wes didn’t really expect an answer.

Evyn hesitated. “You’re doing fine, Captain.”

“Thanks.” Wes grinned wryly at the formality. “Seems I now have quarters in a residential hotel off Dupont Circle, so I can use the extra time to move. Got the text while I was in the shower earlier.”

“Need help moving?” Evyn asked.

“I’m fine—I don’t have much. But thanks.”

“Well, if you change your mind, let me know.” Evyn said.

“I’ll be in my office this evening if anything comes up.” Wes pointed to the aisle as the last passengers streamed off, averting her gaze. She was a little too tired and a little too sore at heart to hide her sadness, and she didn’t want Evyn to misread sadness for regret. She didn’t regret a moment of their time together. “Time to go.”

“Right. Don’t stay up half the night working,” Evyn said, stepping out into the aisle and pulling Wes’s bag from the overhead compartment.

“I won’t.” At Evyn’s skeptical look, she laughed. “Word of honor.”

“I might call you to remind you of that.”

“No need,” Wes said, her pulse racing despite her best intentions, “but feel free to call anytime.”

Evyn paused, her expression growing intent. “I’ll do that.”