Radclyffe - Oath of Honor

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.”

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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.”

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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

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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.”

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“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.”

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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.”

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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.

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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.”

“Yes you did. I got you.” Wes’s arm came around her and Wes

kissed her, her mouth possessive and seeking. Evyn kept her eyes open

as long as she could, until the tenderness and longing forced her to

surrender. She drew her leg up over the crest of Wes’s hip, pressing

nearer, molding to her. The brush of hot skin over her clitoris made her

shudder.

“Doesn’t seem right,” Evyn gasped, arching her neck for Wes to

feast, “that I get so much pleasure out of your present.”

Wes’s mouth skimmed over her cheek, along her jaw. “Be

careful—shoulder. Remember your shoulder.”

Evyn nipped at Wes’s neck. “We’ve managed with a banged-up

shoulder before.”

Wes chuckled. “I wonder what it will be like when both of us have

two good arms.”

“If it gets any better, I won’t survive,” Evyn muttered, rocking

her center along Wes’s thigh. Her breasts were tense, aching, and she

wanted to come. She needed it quick and hard, but she held on—wanting

to hang suspended in this agonizing splendor of need and want and love

for as long as she could. “God, I love you.”

Wes drew a sharp breath, her arm tightening on Evyn’s waist,

urging her to thrust faster. “I really love waking up with you. I love

how much you want me. You’re so sexy. Are you always like this in

the morning?”

“I don’t know.” Evyn’s vision wavered. “I don’t usually wake up

with anyone.” Evyn dug her fingers into Wes’s shoulder, anchoring

herself, pressing closer, needing every inch of her skin against Wes.

Wes. Everywhere, always, Wes. Her orgasm unfurled, escaping the

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tethers of her control, and she kissed Wes hard. “I want to wake up with

you.” Her hips bucked and she buried her face in Wes’s neck. “You…