Radclyffe - Oath of Honor

in event of emergency’ pretty fast. I can’t see her bending on much of

anything.”

Ricochet rolled onto his back, reminding her of priorities.

“I can be flexible,” she said grumpily, rubbing his soft belly. “I’m

just not, usually. Stick with what you know, right? Right?”

She didn’t make mistakes with women because she never varied

her pattern. Now she had, and she ought to be sorry. She wasn’t, and

that was worrisome.

v

Wes woke before the alarm she’d set for 0600 and lay awake,

waiting for the backup wake-up call she’d requested from the hotel

operator when she’d finally hit the rack at 0200. She hadn’t slept well,

but she wasn’t tired. She was used to broken sleep and catching what

she could at odd hours. She still covered the ER often enough to keep

in shape for the demands of emergency medicine. Good thing, because

it sounded like her schedule was going to be anything but regular from

now on. A buzz of excitement shot through her. She loved teaching, but

she was looking forward to having boots on the ground again. Actually

practicing what she preached, although her number one goal where

her new job was concerned was to be certain she didn’t have to. She

couldn’t wait to get a look at the WHMU emergency protocols. Maybe

she’d been tapped for this job because her specialty was triage and

emergency management. Whatever the reason, she’d find out pretty

soon.The bedside phone rang and she picked it up. “Good morning,” a

mechanical voice said, “this is your wake-up call…”

Wes set the phone back in the cradle and swung out of bed. Evyn’s

face surfaced in her mind, and she wondered if Evyn was still sleeping

or if she was on her way to the House. She wondered how she’d slept

and if she’d thought about their evening. She didn’t stop to ask herself

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Oath Of hOnOr

why she’d awakened thinking about a woman for the first time in her

life. Instead, she resolutely put thoughts of Evyn aside and hit the

shower.

Thirty minutes later, dressed in her regulation khakis, Wes grabbed

a cup of Starbucks takeout coffee in the hotel lobby and took a cab to

the White House. She walked around the Ellipse, familiarizing herself

with the terrain. She’d never been inside the White House before but

assumed the fastest way to wherever she needed to go would be via

the West Wing, where the bulk of the offices were located. At 0730,

she approached the northwest gate and gave her name to the officer

on duty. “I have an appointment at zero eight hundred hours with Ms.

Washburn.”

“One moment, please.” The White House Uniformed Division

officer turned away and scanned a screen. A minute later he said, “You’re

cleared to enter. You’ll want the elevator on your right. A staffer will

meet you and take you up.”

“Thank you.”

Inside, Wes noted the sign for the emergency medical clinic in the

Old Executive Office Building and walked past the hall to her new base

until she found the elevators. She repeated her name and destination to

the staffer in the elevator, and when she exited, another staffer escorted

her to a waiting area. She sat and waited.

At 0805, a young intern approached. He looked to be about twenty-

two, buttoned down, slightly frazzled, with a friendly smile. “Captain

Masters?”

Wes stood. “That’s right.”

“Ms. Washburn sends her apologies for keeping you waiting.

She’s ready to see you now.”

“Thank you.” She followed him through an archway, down a hall,

and into another small waiting area. He tapped on the heavy, carved

walnut door and responded to something that only he could hear. He

pushed open the door, and Wes entered Lucinda Washburn’s office. The

south lawn was visible opposite her through French doors framed by

floor-to-ceiling white brocade drapes. The Oriental carpet under her feet

looked expensive and old. A closed door on her left probably led into

the Oval Office. Wes stood at parade rest in front of Ms. Washburn’s

desk while the chief of staff signed off on a call.

Lucinda replaced the handset, stood, and held out her hand. “Good

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to see you again, Captain. Hang your coat up over there, and have a

seat.”Wes shrugged out of her topcoat and added it to several other

winter coats on a wrought-iron coat tree just inside the door. She took

one of the two leather chairs facing the desk and waited.

“Do you have any objections to taking a polygraph?”

“No, ma’am,” Wes said, seeing that they were about to get directly

down to business.

“Good. That’s really the last of the formal security items.” She

shrugged. “Protocol only. Your record has already been reviewed.”

Wes said nothing. She wouldn’t be sitting there if her service

record and probably everything that came in her life before that hadn’t

already been scrutinized in intimate detail. Pro forma.

“Have any questions?”

“No, ma’am.”

Lucinda smiled. “I am not in the military, so you can dispense with

the formalities. And feel free to speak. None of this is on the record.”

“May I ask how I came to be considered for the position?”

“Of course.” Lucinda gestured to a coffee urn and a row of plain

white mugs sitting on a linen-draped sideboard. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

While Lucinda poured, she talked. “Obviously, Dr.

O’Shaughnessy’s death was unexpected. The position is a critical

one, and with POTUS about to embark on a series of national and

international movements, we need the White House Medical Unit to

be at full staff.”

“I understand.” Wes waited for the rest of the story. The White

House medical staff usually came from the military, and there were

plenty of military physicians available. But she’d been short-listed. Not

just short-listed but fast-tracked.

Lucinda handed her a cup of coffee and angled the adjacent chair

to face Wes. When she sat, their knees were a few inches apart. “As you

can imagine,” Lucinda said calmly, “an election year is a volatile time

for the nation and disruptive to both parties. Emotions run high.”

“If there’s something I need to know about the president’s health,

I assume it will be in his records, but if not, then I need to know…off

the record.”

Lucinda’s eyes glinted as if she was pleased with Wes’s statement.

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“This isn’t television. There’s nothing we’re hiding about the president’s

health. He has some food allergies which you will note in his chart,

an old ligamentous injury to his right knee, and some annoying, but

I’m told not dangerous, floaters in his right eye. Other than that, he is

remarkably fit and healthy.”

“Excellent. I will be reviewing his records today.”

“We have excellent security,” Lucinda went on, “and the president

and I have total faith in his detail. In an election year, we always see an

escalation in death threats.”

Wes nodded. “I’ll need to know the nature of the threats, the

analysis of the threat level, and what the Secret Service containment

policies are.”

“You see,” Lucinda said, smiling more broadly now, “you’ve

just proved my point. We need someone in charge who knows how to

approach these kinds of issues in a scientific fashion.”

“Any physician should be able—”

“But not with the facility of someone whose job it has been to

set up treatment, triage, and interventional protocols under battlefield

conditions. That is a fairly unique skill.”

“Do you expect an attack on POTUS?”

Lucinda sipped her coffee and finally said softly, “It isn’t a question

of if the president will be attacked, but when. That is the presumption

we all work under, Captain Masters. As long as we believe that, we will

be prepared for anything.”

“I understand.” Wes decided to push her luck. “And the current

staff? Isn’t it customary to advance members from within?”

Lucinda shrugged. “There is nothing customary in the White

House, Captain. The guard changes every four to eight years, and many

of the personnel change at the same time. The rules, if there are any,

are almost totally dependent upon who occupies these rooms.” Lucinda

regarded her for a long moment, and Wes sat under her dissecting gaze

calmly. “The White House Military Office is your counterpart, and they

felt no internal candidate was qualified for the unique demands of this

position at this point in time.”

“I can assure you, Ms. Washburn,” Wes said, “I am prepared.”

“I’m very, very glad to hear that.” Lucinda set her cup aside, and

her expression took on the kind of intense focus Wes recognized from

the field when an engagement was imminent.

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RADCLY fFE

Lucinda Washburn was about to tell her the real reason she’d been

hired. Everything else was reasonable, but that about-to-do-battle glint

in Lucinda’s eyes said there was more.

“Need-to-know, Captain,” Lucinda said softly.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“We have a security breach, as yet unidentified, but we suspect

the individual has intimate access to the president. You’ll be with those

closest to him every day.”

“I’m not a security agent, I’m a doctor.”

Lucinda smiled. “And as such, a trained observer.”

Wes asked, “Who are the likely suspects?”

Lucinda drew a long breath and listed the limited pool of individuals

with close, continuous access to the president. Evyn Daniels was one

of them. Wes thought back to the hours they’d spent together the night

before. If she’d had this information then, maybe she wouldn’t have

suggested dinner, even though she couldn’t imagine Evyn betraying her

country. But then, she didn’t really know her at all. All she had to go on

were nebulous feelings, and feelings had no place in her job.

“I’ll be read in on any security updates?” Wes asked.

“Yes—need-to-know.” Lucinda stood, indicating the interview

was over. “Questions?”

“No, ma’am. I do have a request.”

“Go ahead,” Lucinda said, a note of curiosity in her tone.

“I’d like to see the autopsy file on Dr. O’Shaughnessy.”

Lucinda’s jaw tightened. “You’ll have that today, Captain. As soon

as the last of the paperwork is completed.”

“Thank you.”

Lucinda Washburn leaned across her desk and pushed a button on

her phone. A voice came over the speaker. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Would you please let the agents know Captain Masters is

ready?”

“Certainly.”

Lucinda turned. “We’ll get the polygraph out of the way, and that

should be the end of the formalities.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Wes rose. “As I said, I’ll be reviewing the president’s

chart today. I would like to examine him at his earliest convenience.”

“Really?” Lucinda studied her. “Why? Everything is in his

records.”

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Oath Of hOnOr

“That may be, but if I’m going to be his doctor, I need to perform

a baseline physical examination and make my own assessment.”

“You don’t trust your predecessor?”

“I don’t know him,” Wes said. “But in any case, I wouldn’t presume

to take care of someone I had never examined. It’s not good medicine.”

She hesitated, seeing the consternation in Lucinda Washburn’s eyes.

She imagined the president was incredibly busy, and finding time to

meet with her would probably be incredibly inconvenient. “In my

experience, high-profile patients often get poor care. Physicians and

everyone else involved are reluctant to inconvenience them. Things

get overlooked. That’s not fair to any patient, but it certainly is not

appropriate for the president of the United States. In light of everything

you’ve told me, it’s imperative I judge his status for myself.”

“I understand. I’ll see that it’s scheduled as soon as possible.”

Lucinda extended her hand and Wes took it. “Welcome to the House,

Captain.”

• 65 •

RADCLY fFE

chapter eight

Evyn hadn’t slept much in the last few days, and she needed a

coffee refill to keep her focused during the routine after-review

of the wedding detail and the rest of the uneventful morning briefing.

Trying not to look distracted, she sloshed milk into her Starbucks

venti cup, added the always-good coffee the valets kept fresh in their

command center, and settled back at the conference table with the other

members of the day shift. She wasn’t herself and couldn’t figure out

what was off. Usually a brisk shower, a fast fantasy, and a hard orgasm

cleared her head for the day, but this morning, she’d opened her eyes

and immediately replayed the evening with Wes—and the details that

came to mind had nothing to do with the job. She kept stumbling over

the way Wes concentrated on her when they talked, as if they had all

night, the way Wes smiled at something Evyn said, her eyes glowing.

And her mouth—God, she had a killer mouth—full lips, broad smile, a

tiny lift on the right side that gave her a hot, sexy, rakish look. Evyn’s

stomach tightened into a hard knot and a quick pulse beat between her

thighs. She sucked in a breath. Whoa. Bad timing—where was that rush

two hours ago when she could have taken care of it? She slugged her

coffee, burned her tongue, and choked.

When she looked over, Gary was staring at her with laughter in

his eyes. She tossed him a get bent look, and he smothered a grin. He

always claimed he could read her mind, but she assured him he was

wrong, remarking if he could, he’d be walking around with a perpetual

boner and he should be so lucky.

Agents rose and started to leave the room, the midnight shift