Radclyffe - Oath of Honor

*

A thirty-something brunette in a crisp white shirt and sharply creased navy blue trousers walked out of the AOD’s office with a stethoscope slung around her neck and stopped when she saw Wes. Saluting, she said, “Captain, I’m First Lieutenant Jennifer Pattee, a nurse with the WHMU.”

“Lieutenant,” Wes said, returning the salute. She was in uniform, the lieutenant wasn’t, suggesting the WHMU was geared toward medicine and not military customs. She had no problem with that. “Captain Wes Masters.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The dark-haired woman smiled tentatively. “Welcome aboard, ma’am.”

“Thank you. Are you the AOD?”

“Yes, ma’am. There’s also a nurse, Major Mark Beecher, on duty. He just went to grab us some dinner.”

“Just the two of you?”

“No, ma’am. Colonel Dunbar is the MD on call—he’s backup and in the on-call suite right now.”

“Quiet down here.”

The lieutenant smiled, more widely this time. “Activity varies, ma’am. During the day, when the House is filled with visitors, staff, and legislators coming and going from the Hill, we get quite a lot of activity. In addition, there are several hundred full-time House staffers rotating around the clock, and we render medical care to all of them. Of course, during a State visit—” She broke off abruptly. “Sorry, I’m sure you know all this.”

Wes made a decision on the spot. She’d learned early in life to take lessons from everyone, anywhere she could. On the front line, rank often lost its significance. She was in command of the WHMU, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t utilize every resource possible. “Actually, no. I haven’t been read in on routine around here.”

“Well then, I’m sure Peter—Commander Chang—or Colonel Dunbar will brief you. Commander Chang is off rotation right now. He had duty at the wedding.”

“Yes, I met the commander briefly. If I’m not on-site,” Wes said, “you and the others can reach me by voice or text anytime. I just wanted to get the lay of the land tonight. I won’t be taking call for a few days yet.”

“Care for a tour, then, Captain?”

“I would.”

“This is the clinic area, obviously.” Jennifer pivoted and swept her arm to take in the hallway. “As you can see, four exam rooms, a fully stocked treatment room, and the admitting office over here.”

Wes followed the lieutenant from room to room, noting the treatment room with state-of-the-art monitors, instruments, anesthesia carts, and OR table. Enough to perform emergency surgery. “Are we approved for general anesthesia here?”

“Yes, ma’am. One person on every shift is anesthesia certified. We can handle any medical or surgical emergency that comes our way.”

After they completed the circuit of the clinic area, Jennifer took Wes to a conference room that doubled as a lounge and poured them both steaming cups of coffee from a large stainless-steel urn.

“Thanks.” Wes pulled out a chair at the long wooden table and Jennifer sat opposite her. “What’s the protocol for evacuation?”

“If we needed to transport the president, Marine One would fly him to Bethesda. We also use George Washington and Howard.”

“I want to review the protocols for medical and surgical emergencies. Are they available on a hard drive?”

“On the computer in Dr. O’Shaughnessy’s—sorry, in your office.”

Wes nodded. “I haven’t had the official tour—is that down here too?”

“No.” Jennifer colored. “Sorry. That’s in the West Wing.”

“Then I’ll find it tomorrow.”

Wes rose, disposed of her coffee cup, and picked up her coat. “I appreciate the introduction. How do I reach everyone to schedule a meeting?”

“All of our pagers, phone numbers, and addresses will be in your office. If there’s anything you need, I’d be happy to help you.”

“I appreciate that, Lieutenant. I’m sure you have more important duties.”

“The unit is my duty, ma’am. I’m happy to help.”

“Thanks.”

Jennifer held her gaze, her dark eyes warmer than they had been earlier. “My pleasure, ma’am.”

“Well,” Wes said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jennifer saluted.

Wes returned the salute. “We can dispense with the formalities among ourselves, Lieutenant.”

“Very good. Good night, Captain.”

“Good night.”

Wes followed the course she had taken with Evyn back to the exit. The night was dark, cold, and snowy. Buttoning her overcoat, she wondered briefly if Evyn was somewhere cursing the stormy weather. Wes didn’t mind the snow—especially as it was falling. The pristine coating of white made the world look somehow innocent and hopeful, as if every possibility existed just around the corner. She walked toward Pennsylvania Avenue to find a cab, snowflakes melting on her face. An unfamiliar ache centered in her chest, different from the occasional bouts of restless uncertainty she usually shrugged off with work or a workout. Tonight the storm’s beauty stirred a surge of melancholy, a wish for something she couldn’t define. Uncertainty was a strange and disquieting sensation. She’d always been able to see exactly what the future held for her. She waved a cab down and jogged toward the idling vehicle, determined to throw off the odd mood.

Once inside, she gave him her hotel address and checked her phone. One message.

“Hey, Wes. It’s Emory. Are you in DC? Call me.”

Wes braced her feet as the cab slid around a corner, and punched in Emory’s number. “Hello, Em? It’s Wes.”

“Hey. Where are you?”

“Right now, in a cab headed to my hotel in DC.”

“You got there just in time for the storm.” Emory laughed. “Listen, Dana is there now on assignment and I’m coming down soon. Let’s get together.”

“I’m not sure what my schedule is yet—”

“Aren’t you the boss? Make sure you’re off.”

Wes laughed. “I think that might be a title in name only. Apparently, I have some on-the-job training to do first.”

“Really? What’s that about?”

“Just routine stuff.”

“Huh, top-secret stuff, right?” Emory laughed again.

“You got it.”

“Well, I want to see you. It’s been way too long.” A moment of silence, then, “I realized the other day how much I’ve missed you.”

Wes’s throat tightened. “Me too. I’ll do my best to make it happen.”

“I’ll text you the when and where, when I confirm with Dana. I thought we’d do dinner and try this great jazz club I read about. Bring a date if—”

“If you don’t mind a third wheel, I think I’ll be stag.”

“Dana knows quite a few single women in DC.”

“Uh, no. I’m fine.”

Emory sighed. “You’re sure?”

“Very.”

“Let me know if you change your mind. It’s never too late for a little romance.”

“For now I’ve got all I can handle with this new assignment. But I’ll do my best to see you when you’re here.”

“Make it so, Captain Masters. See you soon.”

“’Bye, Em.”

Wes slid her phone back into her pocket and turned to watch the storm outside. The streets held only cabs and official-looking government vehicles—black stretch limos, SUVs, and Town Cars bearing emblems and flags of various embassies. She thought about what Emory had said about Dana. Emory had found love, but as much as she and Emory had shared, they were fundamentally different. Emory was brilliant—brilliant and driven—but she also came from an old, privileged family in Newport, Rhode Island. While Wes had been scrabbling for scholarships, Emory had already been part of the social and political world she would eventually join. Wes didn’t begrudge her a single thing—Emory had earned all her acclaim. But her outlook was far more optimistic than Wes’s had ever been.