Price Of Honor

Chapter Twenty-nine

Jane kept the rocky outcroppings rising from the pristine white slopes like bad teeth between her and the train in the valley below. The rifle slung across her back was a comforting weight. She’d set the delays on the drones for forty-five minutes and left her backpack and the rest of her supplies behind. She could cover a lot of distance in forty-five minutes, and if she didn’t make it out of the canyon before the feds descended in force, she wouldn’t need food. All she’d need was ammo, and she had plenty of that.

She’d been training all her life for action like this, and within minutes she was over the ridge and out of sight of the train. They’d follow her, once they realized she’d left before the drones were activated. But they wouldn’t send a team out immediately. They’d think she was debating what to do, probably expecting her to take time to choose between her brother and her sister. They didn’t know her. They didn’t know the way the three of them had been raised. But then, she hadn’t really known herself until Roberts had forced her to declare who she really was. She angled upward to the road, barely discernable now under the accumulated snow, and took a calculated risk. The chance of a vehicle traveling along this road was slight, but there was always a chance. If she could commandeer a vehicle she might still get away.

She hadn’t heard another helicopter since one had dropped from the sky a hundred yards from the train. They must have evacuated the president when they’d made the play with Robbie, but they weren’t chancing an all-out assault with the drones still in play. Her window was shrinking fast, though. Before long, the only vehicles traveling this stretch would be in pursuit of her, but for now, she had a clear path. She kept close to the cover of the trees along the shoulder and ran on through the gathering storm.

She’d traveled three miles when the sound of an oncoming vehicle forced her to jump behind a cluster of trees. She shouldered her rifle and sighted on the curve in the road ahead. A familiar red Jeep careened into view, spewing snow as it cut a path toward her. She stepped out and Hooker skidded to a stop.

Jane threw open the passenger door and jumped in. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s getting late. I figured you might need a ride.” He did a 180 in the middle of the road and slewed around the curve the way he’d come. “Besides, there’s nothing to do in that one-horse town.” He glanced at her as she pulled a water bottle from her inside pocket and drank deeply. “Mission abort?”

“Yes,” Jane said, staring out the windshield but seeing nothing. Nothing except Robbie’s frightened face. He was her little brother. He trusted her.

“They on your tail?”

She glanced at her chronometer. “They will be in about seven minutes.”

Hooker whistled. “Guess we better find us a busier road pretty quick so we can blend in.”

“Take a left a mile up the road. You’ll hit the interstate five miles farther on.”

“Huh. You think of everything,” Hooker said.

“Not everything,” Jane said softly and closed her eyes. She’d never expected to be faced with choosing between the last two people she loved.

*

Before Dusty opened her eyes, before she knew where she was or why she felt as if she’d been flattened by a tank, she knew she was going to be okay. Atlas’s breath blew across her throat. He was keeping her safe. And something else, something new and deeply comforting. Warm fingers gripped her hand. She recognized the softness and strength of that hand. Eyes still closed, she said, “Did I miss all the action?”

“Most of it,” Viv said quietly. “How are you feeling?”

Dusty looked up and just as she’d hoped—dreamed—Viv was there, smiling down at her. Viv’s eyes looked worried but her smile was brilliant. All Dusty wanted was for Viv to keep smiling at her like that, pretty much forever. “I’m okay. Headache. Shoulder hurts like a son of a gun, but I’m mostly good.” She turned her head carefully. So far so good. “Atlas—you okay, boy?”

“He’s perfect.” Viv scratched behind his ears. “He’s just the best, aren’t you, big handsome boy.”

“Hey, hey,” Dusty said, laughing. “Stop spoiling him.”

“I can spoil him. He’s been looking after you.”

Images of the drone jumped into sharp focus. Dusty glanced around the empty car. She didn’t recognize it. “What’s happening? What about the bombs?”

“I’m not sure. They just evacuated Blair Powell. So I think—”

“Why are you still here?” Dusty tried to sit up and her head swam. “You should get off this—”

“Don’t do that,” Viv warned, pressing down on Dusty’s good shoulder. “You need to lie still.”

“You have to get off this train. It’s not safe. Let me u—”

The connecting door slid open and Dusty reached for her weapon.

“Stand down, Agent Nash,” a man in a flak jacket said. “We’ve got this.”

Dusty recognized Mac Phillips from Egret’s detail. She relaxed and let out a breath. “Hey, Mac. What the hell is happening?”

“The UNSUB is playing chicken with the director.” Mac grinned. “Want to place a bet on who’s winning?”

“Hell, no,” Dusty said. “POTUS?”

“Safe house. We’ve been slowly relocating civilians to the rear of the train, out of range of the second drone.”

Two more agents and the first doctor crowded in behind Mac Phillips.

“Agent Nash—Captain Wes Masters,” Mac said. “The captain needs to look you over, Nash.”

“I’m good,” Dusty said.

Viv exclaimed, “No, you’re not.”

“How about I decide?” Wes leaned over and shined a light in Dusty’s eyes. “How are you doing, Agent?”

“Fine, Captain.”

“Vision okay?”

“A little blurry earlier. Clear now.”

The doctor asked her a few more questions and straightened. “As soon as we’re cleared to evac, we’ll be giving you a lift to the ER.”

Viv asked, “Is there something wrong?”

Wes smiled. “Precautionary. I want a CT scan to be sure that head bump didn’t shake things up too much on the inside. And we need to x-ray that shoulder.”

Atlas growled softly when one of the agents moved closer. Mac raised a brow at Dusty. “What about the dog?”

“Radio Dave Ochiba to come and get him,” Dusty said. “Atlas will go with him if I tell him to.”

Mac nodded, contacted Ochiba, and told him he was needed when he was free to move around. “As soon as Ochiba gets your partner here settled, you’re out of here.”

“I’m going too,” Viv said.

Mac gave her an appraising look. “You’re press corps, aren’t you?”

Viv smiled down at Dusty and grasped her hand again. “Yes, but this is personal.”

“Yeah,” Dusty said, not caring who was watching. “Very personal.”

*

Cam regarded Gary Williams. With his well-cut hair and bland good looks, he could have been any of a dozen reporters on the White House beat. Except that he sat on a bench in the lounge next to the command car in his dark suit pants, wet shoes, and wrinkled pale blue dress shirt with his hands cuffed in front of him. Two ERT agents stood guard at either end of the car. “What’s your real name?”

He stared straight ahead.

“Gary is actually your last name. Youngest child of Augustus Gary. How about your first name?”

His jaw clenched.

“We’ve got three assault teams readying to go after your sister. You might want to take this chance to reason with her.” Cam held up a phone. “Tell me about your plans to attack the president, who’s behind it, and you’ll earn a call.”

His dark eyes flicked to Cam. “She won’t change her mind.”

“I know the three of you didn’t plan this on your own—I doubt it was even your father’s idea. Where is the money coming from? Who’s pulling the strings behind the scenes?”

“I have nothing to say.”

“Now is the time to help your sister,” Cam said quietly. “She’s not going to win this fight, but she doesn’t have to die. Help me so you can help her.”

He shook his head. “She wouldn’t thank me.”

“Not today, maybe, but—”

Tom Turner burst in from the adjoining car. “The drones are active.”

Cam turned her back on Gary Williams. The time for testing the field with pawns had passed. The battle was on. “Deploy the assault teams.”