Oath Of Honor

Chapter Thirty-one

Cam turned the bathroom light off before she opened the door and walked quietly back into the bedroom. The room was filled with a soft gray haze marking the transition between moonlight and sunrise, that in-between time when night was all but gone and the day not yet born—when reality dispelled the last lingering dreams. She found the clothes she’d left out the night before and pulled on underwear, pants, and a shirt. She slid her ID into her back pocket and clipped her badge to her belt on her right hip next to her holster. Sheets rustled behind her and she turned as Blair sat up in bed. “Been awake long?”

“A few minutes,” Blair said. “I like watching you dress almost as much as I like watching you undress.”

Laughing, Cam sat on the side of the bed and stroked Blair’s leg through the sheets. Blair was wearing another one of her old T-shirts—this one with JJRTC stenciled across the chest. A few holes peppered the front—spots she’d snagged running through the woods on one of her training exercises. She leaned down and kissed Blair. “It’s pretty early yet. Are you going to stay up?”

“I’ve gotten spoiled these last few weeks, having you around. Knowing you weren’t going to be out in the field.”

“I need to be there for this.” Cam settled on the bed, swung around until her back was against the headboard, and settled Blair against her side. She kissed her temple. In her new job with Homeland Security, she was riding a desk most of the time. She was a hands-on supervisor, though, and sometimes she needed to be in the field. “Your father’s safety is our number one priority, but this kind of incident has the potential to terrify the nation. We’ll stop it—I promise. But media containment is almost as vital.”

Blair nodded. “I know. Which is why you’re leading the team yourself and limiting the number of people who know the details.”

“Yes.” She’d put agents from the Washington field office on Jennifer Pattee the night before after Daniels and Block left to follow Captain Masters home. The other agents only knew they were maintaining surveillance on a person of interest and didn’t need to know more. The intercept this morning had to be carried out by a small, select team in the know, and she needed to be there to assure the details of the plan weren’t made public. Knowledge of a threat could be almost as dangerous as the event itself.

“I’m not even going to ask how dangerous you think this might be,” Blair said, running her fingers over the buttons on Cam’s shirt. “I already know. And I understand why you have to do this. Just be careful.”

“I will be. I’ll call you as soon as I can, but it might be a while.”

Blair rubbed her cheek on Cam’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about me. Just do your job and remember, part of your job is coming back to me.”

“I won’t forget.” Cam kissed her. “It’s the best assignment I’ve ever had.”

*

Wes judged the time to be nearing 0430. They’d need to leave soon so Evyn could meet up with the intercept team and she could join the surveillance team and provide medical containment if necessary. She’d be in a van somewhere, safely observing. Evyn would be in the hot zone. The virus, if released, would be as lethal as a bullet, although not quite as rapid. The diner was a public place—and the agents’ body armor would be no protection at all. She had nothing other than supportive measures to counteract its destructive potential—no vaccine, no drugs. Exposure could be a death sentence.

Evyn slept with her head on Wes’s shoulder. She fit into the curve of Wes’s body as if she’d always been there. Wes stroked the slope of Evyn’s shoulder. Her skin was soft, warm. Her breasts were firm and full, nestling against hers in a sensuous embrace. The brush of Evyn’s nipple over her breast teased her clit, and she tensed with a sharp thrum of arousal. She tightened her grip on Evyn’s shoulder and held her closer.

Evyn murmured and shifted above her, easing her leg between Wes’s thighs. Her pelvis rocked into Wes’s and the tight knot of need between Wes’s thighs grew. She’d come hard the night before—the first time when Evyn had taken her with her mouth, then more slowly as Evyn had stroked her, and now she was ready again. Cupping Evyn’s ass in her palm, she guided Evyn’s leg to the place she needed her.

“I like waking up with you,” Evyn whispered, her lips against Wes’s throat. She kissed her way up and tugged lightly on her earlobe.

The tiny points of pain sent pleasure streaking down Wes’s spine. She raised her hips so her clitoris rubbed against Evyn’s thigh. “I like sleeping with you. I like waking up with you. I like everything about being with you.”

Evyn chuckled. “Handy, that, because I plan on being around a lot.”

“I think I’ll need you around a lot.”

Evyn propped herself up on her forearms, the first rays of morning light breaking over her face. Her eyes were blue-gray in the dusky dawn. “We haven’t talked about the future.”

Wes cradled Evyn’s face, scooped her fingers through her hair, kissed her. “I want one.”

“So do I.” Evyn kissed her, exploring, teasing, tasting. She slid deeper, claiming. “I want you. Just you. I know always sounds like a line, but I mean it.”

Wes’s concentration faltered—gave way under the sensation of Evyn’s mouth and hands. She pressed harder against Evyn’s thigh, climbing faster. Too fast. Gasping, she pulled away. “I’m going to come soon.”

“Mmm—then don’t stop.”

“I want—I need—to say this first. I love you. I’ve never wanted anyone else and I never will. Always sounds like the beginning.”

Evyn shuddered. “I never even wanted tomorrow with anyone before. Now I want every single one of yours to be mine.”

“They will be.” Wes’s muscles clenched and she rode the plume of pleasure higher. “I’m sorry, I can’t…I’m coming for you.”

“Yes. For me.” Evyn scored her teeth down Wes’s neck, biting gently. “Yes,” she breathed against Wes’s skin, hearing the startled cry as Wes’s control unraveled. Her clitoris twitched, pulsed, thickened. She needed to come but she held back. She needed Wes more. “Mine. All mine. Come for me.”

Wes cried out, body shattering with pleasure. She crushed her face to Evyn’s neck. “Yours. Yes.”

Pushing up on one arm, Evyn fumbled for Wes’s hand with the other. She pressed Wes’s fingers between her legs. “Touch me. I need to come for you.”

Wes stroked her, slid lower, pressed inside, and Evyn exploded in her hand. “I love you,” Wes whispered. “No chances today, Evyn. I can’t lose you.”

Evyn sighed and stretched, trailing her fingers down Wes’s back—sated, supremely content. “You won’t lose me, I promise. I’m here for the long term.”

Wes kissed her, choosing to believe for a little while longer they could control the future.

*

Hooker opened the minifridge tucked in the corner of his motel room and removed a small plain cardboard box the size of a ballpoint pen case. The clear plastic vial with the screw top was nestled inside, surrounded by a Styrofoam cut-out. A half-inch of milky white fluid filled the end of the tube—at least it had when he’d checked it when he’d accepted it from the woman in Georgia. He hadn’t looked at it again. He didn’t want to look at it, he didn’t want to touch it. He wasn’t superstitious, but he didn’t ride around with a loaded gun and the safety off pointed at his chest, either. If all he’d been told was true, whatever was in the tube was ten kinds of deadly dangerous. He couldn’t hand it off soon enough.

He placed the small, narrow box in a white plastic cooler along with a couple of cans of beer and a burrito from the minimart where he’d gassed up the rental car he’d used to drive north the night before. Russo had pushed the timetable forward, and haste was never a good idea, but Russo lived by the polls. If the numbers showed Powell gaining in popularity, that was all that mattered to Russo—after all, he wasn’t taking any risks. Hooker didn’t concern himself with politics—politicians came and went as frequently as the weather shifted, and he’d never seen that whoever held power changed things very much. Money was the only true power, and Russo had plenty of that. He’d follow Russo’s lead as long as the money held up.

He packed his travel bag and meticulously wiped down everything he’d touched in the motel room, which hadn’t been much. He’d just arrived the night before after dark in another rental car that he’d procured with one of his aliases. He’d eaten at a fast-food place across the highway from the motel and slept in his clothes. He’d shower at his next stop. Satisfied that he hadn’t left anything of himself behind, he grabbed his bag and the cooler, left his room key on the rickety table by the door, and walked out just as the sun came up. He couldn’t finish this job fast enough. In five hours, he’d be at the airport headed home for Christmas Eve.

*

Jennifer stepped out of the shower and wrapped a fluffy white bath sheet around her chest. It fell to her thighs, chasing away the slight chill in the bathroom. The temperature had dropped again, and the old town house let in a little of the night air through hidden cracks and crevices. A small price to pay for its historic beauty, except on mornings like these. She hurried into her bedroom, drying herself as she went, and dressed hastily in a navy suit, white shirt, and low dark heels. She didn’t plan to stay very long in the diner and doubted the man, Tom, would want to linger, either. Twenty minutes, really, ought to be enough for two people whose only connection was a common friend to share a cup of coffee, make small talk, and go their separate ways. She’d timed the meeting so she’d finish up and arrive at the clinic at shift change, when she’d slide her lunch bag into the staff refrigerator just as she did every morning. Only today, the bag would be a little fuller. Her stomach trembled when she thought about the next step.

She wasn’t frightened, she was excited. Proud to be the one to ultimately carry out the mission. Her family would be proud that she had fulfilled her destiny—that she’d learned her lessons well and had struck a blow for true freedom and independence. If she was very lucky and everything went according to plan, she might even survive. But if she didn’t, she would die knowing she’d made a difference. And after all, that’s what she’d been born for.