Radclyffe - Word of Honor

“I’m not going to forget that Blair is getting married,” Emory protested. She glanced at Dana with a friendly smile. “Are they this relentless with you too?”

“My situation is a little different,” Dana said, realizing that Emory didn’t know why she was there.

“Dana is a reporter, Emory,” Blair said, the slightest note of apology in her voice. “She’s covering the wedding for a Washington paper.”

“Oh.” Emory’s smile disappeared and her voice became distinctly cooler. She shifted slightly away and regarded Dana with thinly veiled suspicion. “I see.”

“Allergic to the press?” Dana asked sharply, bothered by the wall Emory had thrown up so quickly.

“Let’s just say my experiences haven’t been exactly positive,” Emory said, obviously trying to be polite. She set her wineglass down with exaggerated care, then looked regretfully at Blair. “I think I’ll have to pass on your offer to join your group this weekend.”

Blair didn’t look at Dana. “I’m sorry, Emory. I wasn’t thinking.”

“That’s quite all right. There’s no reason you should be.” Emory pushed her hair back from her face with a gesture of weariness. “Would you mind if I caught up with you later? I think I need a little time alone to unwind.”

“Of course not,” Blair said. “Promise you’ll call us later. Diane will be at my place for a while, and we were hoping you could come to dinner.”

“I’ll call.” Emory stood and gave Blair and Diane a quick hug. She nodded to Dana. “Good afternoon, Dana.”

“Well, hell,” Diane muttered as Emory hurried away. “That puts a crimp in our plans.”

Dana put her beer bottle down and stood. “I think I can take care of this for you.”

Without waiting for a reply, Dana sprinted after Emory Constantine.

“We’re turning off the interstate,” Savard reported, checking the highway signs as the SUV slowed at the bottom of the exit ramp and turned west. “Looks like a pretty small road.”

Cam stretched her legs and shook some of the tension out of her shoulders. “I imagine this caravan was attracting a bit of attention on the highway. Easier to track by air out there too.”

“Air like helicopter or air like satellite?” Savard asked.

“Satellite for sure, possibly both.” Cam checked her watch. It got dark early in the mountains, but it was still later than she had hoped. “We’re not going to make it home tonight. We’ll be lucky if we make it home tomorrow.”

“You think we’re going to Illinois?”

Cam nodded. “My guess is they’re transferring Early and whoever else is in that van to the supermax facility at Marion. The Navy base at Guantanamo isn’t ready to hold detainees yet.”

“Hell,” Savard muttered, “if we don’t talk to this guy before he goes down there, we’ll never talk to him.”

“That’s why we’re on this road trip.”

“You want me to put in a call to base about our change in plans?”

Cam did, because she wanted to get a message to Blair that she wouldn’t be home when she had planned to be. On the other hand, even though she thought Early’s transfer just when she wanted to interrogate him might be a coincidence, she wasn’t convinced of it. She also believed their communications with base were as secure as they could make them, but that didn’t mean they weren’t being monitored. For the moment, she preferred not to broadcast her plans. “Let’s wait on that for a bit.”

A few minutes later Savard looked out the window again. “Foggy out there.”

“We’re climbing through the mountains. I don’t think I’ve ever crossed them when it wasn’t.”

A beep sounded from the console built into the side panel announcing that an occupant in the front compartment wished to speak to them. Cam pushed a button. “Yes?”

“The vehicle just ahead of us is signaling they’re going to pull over.”

Cam frowned. “Can you see any sign of mechanical problem? A flat tire or engine overheating?”

“No ma’am.”

“There’s not much of a shoulder on these twisty roads. Be careful we don’t hit them.”

“Do you want us to stop, Deputy Director?”

Cam considered her options. The prisoner transport van was sandwiched between the two other SUVs. Her vehicle was fourth in line. If the agents in the vehicle behind the van were having mechanical problems, they weren’t in any danger. They had phones and were undoubtedly in contact with their superiors. On the other hand, if she stopped, she’d lose the prisoner van and the lead SUV along with her opportunity to interrogate Early. “No, go around them and pull in line behind the van.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“What do you think that’s about?” Savard asked edgily.

“I don’t know.” Cam had a prickly sensation on the back of her neck and the uncomfortable feeling that she had missed something. She pushed the button on the intercom again. “Let me know if they speed up. And be prepared, they may try to lose us.”

“Don’t worry, they won’t.”

Cam tightened her seat belt. She could tell Savard felt uneasy too. At Savard’s unspoken request, Cam nodded. “Open the floor compartment.”

Savard leaned over while Cam punched in the code to unlock the storage bin beneath Savard’s feet. At the click of the lock disengaging, Savard opened it and extracted the shotgun from the clamps that held the weapon in place. She dropped the lid back on the compartment and rested the shotgun across her knees.

“If for any reason we need to leave the—” Cam’s words were obliterated by an explosion that rocked the vehicle. The SUV swerved abruptly and Cam catapulted forward. Her seat belt abruptly stopped her motion, and she vaguely registered a bruising pain across her chest. Then she was thrown violently back against the seat as the world dissolved in a dizzying, bone-jarring revolution of screeching metal.

“Emory, wait,” Dana called. For a second, she thought Emory would ignore her, but finally Emory stopped in front of the elevators.

Dana couldn’t read her expression so she went by instinct. Emory hadn’t seemed angry a few minutes earlier, more…sad. “It usually takes longer than five minutes for someone to decide they don’t like me.”

“It’s nothing personal.” Emory shrugged and pushed the up button. “It’s occupational.”

“I figured that out.”

“I’m sorry if I appear rude,” Emory said, her attention fixed on the elevator doors. “But I’m too tired to watch what I say, especially when I’m relaxing with my friends.”

The resentment in her voice was hard to miss. “How about if I tell you everything is off the record unless we agree otherwise.”

Emory gave Dana a curious look. “I’m afraid I’ll have to insult you again, but I don’t believe you.”

“Let me guess,” Dana said, taking a chance. “You told someone something in an intimate situation and it ended up in print.”

“Close enough.”

“Then she didn’t have any scruples. I do.” Dana touched Emory lightly on the shoulder to be sure Emery was listening. “Off the record means off the record.”

Emory smiled sadly. “That’s what he said too.”

He. The disappointment hit Dana like a fist in the solar plexus, but she managed to hide her shock. “Sorry, I just assumed—”

“There’s no need to apologize.”

“Well, since we don’t have to worry about pillow talk, you should feel even safer.”

“For some reason, I don’t,” Emory said, although her expression softened. “You’re a lot smoother than he was.”

“Glad to hear it.” Dana grinned and cupped Emory’s elbow, tugging gently. “Come back and finish your wine.”